Real Hauntings 4-Book Bundle. Mark Leslie

immediately behind Lloyd, Carol’s brother, is a pale, grey face.

Attempting to investigate the mysterious wedding guest, Carol took the photograph to various photo shops, Dundurn, an occult store, and a Caledonia psychic. The psychic told Carol the name of the extra guest was Sophia, who felt such spiritual energy and comfortable to be overseeing the wedding.[11] Local historian T. Melville Bailey reported that a Sophia was married in Dundurn in November of 1855, moved with her husband to England, and lived the rest of her life there in luxury, never returning to North America.

      Of course, there are those who speculate that spirits don’t necessarily have to haunt the place where they died and can linger behind or return to visit a place that held importance to them in life. So there is the possibility that Sophia, who was married in the castle, returns as a spectral guest to look upon weddings and bestow a positive omen on the festivities.

      Apart from his many prestigious roles, MacNab was also a carpenter, stage actor, military officer, and baron. Eclectic in his ways, he was sometimes seen as a man of dual personalities. He displayed an intense degree of power and wealth yet died almost without a penny in his pocket. He was seen as a compassionate and kind employer to his servants yet was a ruthless and threatening businessman.

      It has been said that one of Sir Allan MacNab’s hobbies was playing the bagpipes; not just inside the home for his family but also sometimes outside in the middle of the night — on the roof. One can imagine the haunting droning of the bagpipes in the thick dark of night, echoing off the moonlit structures and nearby cemetery tombstones.

      In many historical accounts, MacNab is often overshadowed by contemporaries such as John A. Macdonald, even though he played a significant role in laying the foundations for the industrial growth in Hamilton as well as for prosperity in much of Southern Ontario.

MacNab died on August 8, 1862, at Dundurn Castle.[12] He was originally buried that same year on the Dundurn Park grounds between Dundurn Castle and what is known as Castle Dean, on the corner of Locke and Tecumseh.[13] In 1909 MacNab’s body was removed and taken to Holy Sepulchre Cemetery in West Hamilton. His grave was left unmarked until 1967, when the Canadian Club of Hamilton placed a bench and grave marker there.

Due to the huge amount of debt that MacNab died with, the property was mortgaged to pay off his creditors, and the castle sat empty for several years before becoming an institution for the deaf in 1866. It was then purchased in 1872 by Donald McInnes, who moved his family in after making some minor revisions and repairs to the estate.[14]

In 1899 McInnes sold the castle to the City of Hamilton and it became a museum. In 1967, for the Canadian Centennial year, three million dollars was spent restoring the castle to the state it was in when Sir Allan MacNab inhabited it.[15]

Constructed of stone, a “mystery building,” with a small pagoda-like upper level and topped with a circular cap and column, exists at Dundurn Park, just east of the castle. Nobody knows the actual purpose for which it was built, but historians feel that it might have been a boathouse, an office, a theatre, a laundry, a summer pavilion, or a chapel. Urban legends posit that many underground tunnels lead from the castle to other buildings on the estate, one of them coming through this mystery building.[16] , [17]

      The site itself, even prior to the castle being constructed, is not immune to the possibility of ghosts. Many Hamilton residents stricken with cholera during their passage overseas were housed in — and died in — plague sheds across the street from where the castle now stands. And in 1812, eleven men (American sympathizers during the war) were publicly gutted and hung for treason.

      All of this aside — staff and visitors alike feeling cold chills, witnessing apparitions gliding through rooms of the castle and in the moonlight yard, reporting various objects being moved around — the castle and its grounds continue to exude a sense of enigma and mystery.

      And if you visit Dundurn today, you’ll see that it stands, like its original owner, not just as a beacon of a significant time in Hamilton history but also as an acknowledgement that some of our most interesting pieces of history remain unsolved puzzles.

      Chapter Three

      Bellevue Mansion

      When I first moved to Hamilton in 1997, my wife took me down a street on the edge of the Niagara Escarpment, pointing out an old house that had been abandoned since she was a child. She talked about that common childhood experience regarding old, creepy abandoned houses: almost every town or neighbourhood has one. One that children regularly cast leery glances at and step a bit more quickly when passing the sidewalk in front, particularly when the sun begins to set and the shadows grow long.

      The neighbourhood and lot were actually desirable, and as the years passed and the old abandoned building was torn down, Francine and I speculated that it would be a great property to purchase and build a house on. It is a decent-sized lot on a lovely street, close to the amenities we’re used to and near the school our son attends. And the view of the city was spectacular.

      We made some basic inquiries regarding the property, but nobody ever got back to us. I thought it was strange that a salesperson wouldn’t respond to a call from a serious customer. It was only later that I discovered some of the history of that lot and its “haunted house” — and was glad that a salesperson never returned my calls.

      Francine and I now merely need to mention that abandoned lot and a shared chill runs up our spines.

      The stories we have heard cause the imagination to run wild, conjuring haunting visions of a deranged man, a domestic predator, slowly lumbering through the halls in search of his family. In these thoughts, the house, the very grounds themselves, are possessed of some evil spirits that could drive a man to commit unspeakable acts.

      But I have gotten ahead of myself here. Let’s go back to look at the house in question and learn a bit about its history.

The Bellevue Mansion stood atop the mountain brow for over 150 years[1] with a commanding view out over the city and bay. It ranked among Hamilton’s finest examples of historic residential architecture. Built by John Bradley between 1848 and 1850 of local quarried limestone, the Bellevue Mansion (bellevue being a French term for “beautiful view”) closely resembled the McQuesten homestead of Whitehern, both in style and construction.[2] Of particular significance are the north, east, and west facades, the stone chimneys, and belvedere of the building.[3]

The symmetrical and compact Classical Revival design of Bellevue displayed the finest sense of scale and proportion from the beginning, a testament to the competence of builders Melville, Herald, and White. Later embellished with a belvedere (after which the street is named), the Bellevue was one of the first in Hamilton’s tradition of beautiful escarpment estates.[4]

In the nineteenth century, Bellevue — along with other contemporary limestone mansions such as Inglewood, Rock Castle, and Whitehern — marked an important initial step in Hamilton’s rapid transition from a pioneer settlement to a cosmopolitan centre.[5]

The original owner of Bellevue, John Bradley, contributed to the Hamilton region not only through his commercial success (he owned a tavern, two downtown hotels, and land in