Boo!

Today being Halloween, we turn our attention to two ghost stories from the history of our township--just for fun.

One hundred-twelve years ago this month the New Brunswick Daily Times ran a brief item that seems appropriate to the day:

From The New Brunswick Daily Times, October 5, 1894 via Newspapers.com

Alonzo Jenkins (his surname is misspelled in the text) lived near the railroad tracks in Sewell. It seems likely that the meeting he attended was at the Barnsboro Methodist Church. His encounter with the spook would have taken place along present-day Center Street, on the hill between Barnsboro and Sewell. This route would have taken him past a handful of farms; maybe some local farm boys had a bit of fun at his expense. Of course, the road also passes near the old Driver cemetery...

Mr. Jenkins is described in the article as a leading businessman in early Sewell, but a review of census records show he was not a township native and did not live here for long. He was raised in Mullica Hill. The 1895 New Jersey census, a year after this story ran, confirms that he lived in Sewell. But by 1900 he was a jeweler living in Wenonah. In 1910 he was living in Clayton and, interestingly enough, was a newspaper reporter. He died in 1912 and is buried at the Richwood Methodist Church cemetery.

Our second ghost tale comes from the same stretch of road as the first, though it pre-dates the first by at least a dozen years. This story comes from Dale Ledden, and is about the family of his great-grandfather, a gentleman of Scots extraction who managed the marl pit that is today the "Big Dig" location on the former Inversand property.

It was a chilly fall evening at the home of Mr. Ledden's great-grandparents. A cozy fire in the wood stove kept the cold outside. As they talked and relaxed from the day, a knock came at the door. This was a surprise--they were not expecting anyone. They opened the door to find a young couple with a boy. They invited them in to warm up.

The young father told them he and his little family had arrived that day at the port of Gloucester on a ship from Ireland. Someone there had told them that Mr. Ledden's grandfather hired Irish workers to work in the marl pit, so the family had walked from Gloucester to see about a job. The wife invited them to sit down and talk. The husband explained to the young couple that unfortunately, the pit had closed for the season; once ice began to form in the excavation it could not be worked until the following year.

Disappointed, the young couple were at a loss. What could they do now? As the father considered, he leaned back in his chair. He gave a sudden start as he burned himself on the stove. Back in Ireland homes were heated by peat fires. None of the young family had ever seen a wood stove before.

Wanting to help the young man somehow, the husband told him about a farmer he knew in the Williamstown area who was hiring people to bring in his butternut squash crop. The couple decided this would be worth investigating, and rose to begin the long walk to that town. 

Noticing how exhausted the boy seemed--and perhaps with an idea of the hard winter the poor young immigrants were facing--the wife suggested the two leave their boy with the older couple temporarily. She and her husband would take care of him, and he could help them around the place with chores. The young parents could come back and get their boy when they had gotten themselves established.

The young couple agreed to this proposal and set off for Williamstown. The boy made himself useful around the house for the husband and wife and they were happy to have him around. Winter passed, and spring turned to summer. The three were content together.

Late one afternoon in early summer the wife sent the boy on an errand to Kirkbride's store in Barnsboro, which was located where Jim's Pizza now is. This was the nearest general store to the couple's home in what is now Sewell. She had to take the wagon elsewhere, so he would be going on foot. He assured her that he knew the way there, took the shopping list, and set off up the road.

Evening approached with no sign of the boy. The couple had expected him by now. Had he gotten lost? Had he been injured?

Suddenly the door to the house burst open and the boy ran in. He raced to his bed and hid himself under it. It was some time before the couple could get him to come out. He seemed frightened beyond reason. All they could get out of him were the words "Willy o' the Wisp! Willy o' the Wisp!"

At length they pieced together the full story. Like all children in his part of Ireland, the boy had been taught about Willy o' the Wisp by his parents. He was an evil fairy with a lantern through his nose who would lead unwary travelers who followed his light to a swampy doom in the bogs found throughout the countryside. Parents told this story to keep children from wandering into dangerous territory at night. The appearance of twinkling atmospheric lights over bogs from time to time reinforced the tale.

The boy had been on his way back down the hill from Kirkbride's when he encountered Willy o' the Wisp. His little light hung in the air and receded as the boy advanced. Then it disappeared. Suddenly it reappeared at his other side. Then it was gone again. Curiosity turned to alarm and then to all-out fear as the boy, who had never seen a lightning bug, became convinced he was in the presence of the dread fairy. Off he ran for home!

A "wisp" was a bundle of sticks to be burned as a sort of torch. So "Willy o' the Wisp" could be thought of as "Willy o' Torch," or, as he is known in another variation of the tale, "Jack o' Lantern."

Happy Halloween, everyone. Be safe! And thank you Dale Ledden for sharing your story.