Two Articles Regarding a Haunted House In Felts Mills Investigated By The Watertown Daily Times In 1881
The location of the haunted house in Felts Mills is a bit of a mystery based on the information given, stated as “on the direct road from Felts Mills by the campground across the plains to the Factory Road.” One might assume the main road to be what is now Route 3, but the location of campgrounds across the plains to the Factory Road is a bit perplexing, but perhaps relevant to those who have lived there and are more knowledgeable of the area’s history.
Below are two articles from the Watertown Daily Times that discuss the purportedly haunted house in Felts Mills with elements that sounded more in the vein of The Exorcist.
A HAUNTED HOUSE (Published March 10, 1881)
Strange Noises Heard in a House Near Black River–Investigation In Progress
There is considerable excitement at Black River and in the immediate vicinity just now over what is termed a haunted house. The adobe of said ghost is in a house on the direct road from Felts Mills by the camp ground across the plains to the Factory Road. Report says that the family occupying the house have heard mysterious noises from time to time, and they finally vacated the premises.
It will be two weeks next Saturday since a son of the former occupant died. He was a young man; was delirious during his sickness and talked many strange things. One of the persons who watched with the corpse that night claims to have been shaken violently by some unseen power. Chairs were tipped. The table moved. Several testify to having heard whistling and footsteps both inside and out of the house. Mysterious rappings, etc. were heard. The family moved out on Tuesday last. That evening stories were plenty, and there were not many who dared to go and stay that night for pay.
After a good deal of “I’ll go if you will,” four were found who would go for the sake of a lark. When about 20 rods from the starting point, one of the four remembered that he had some important business that must be attended to, and departed. The trio procured a lantern and matches, and proceeded on their journey, confidently expecting to meet, see, hear, grapple with, shoot and mortally wound a mighty something. Arriving at the place, things were examined and nothing found to excite any fears, and if they ever had any they disappeared.
They took up their quarters and waited for the fun. None of them were grayhaired the next morning, but not one of them could tell anywhere near what time it was when they heard the noise in the old broken clock, when they heard the footsteps, or when they got home.
It is at least safe to bet that you cannot get them to go there and stay another night. Another party went up yesterday to investigate. They heard nothing, but on lifting the trap-door to the cellar, a boot was found sitting upright, balanced on the round of a ladder. It was taken off and examined. All who tried to replace it were not equal to the task. This trap-door is in the same corner where the footsteps were heard the night before.
Some believe, some do not. Others are mystified.
Loads of the incredulous are to solve the mystery tonight if possible.
GHOST EXTERMINATORS (Published March 15, 1881)
The Haunted House at Felts Mills–A Watertown Party Endeavoring to Unearth the Mystery–No Ghosts seen–An Off Night With the Golding–An Exciting Adventure
For several days past reports have been spreading concerning a haunted house at Felts Mills. These reports have lately been more frequent and the stories told have been most exciting. Yesterday a reporter of the TIMES overheard a thrilling account about boots, without any apparently accompanying motive power, rushing across the floor, hats flying in the air, clocks striking and the ghosts having a general good time. Now the reporter of the TIMES, though small in stature, is nevertheless noted for his bravery, and he immediately saw an excellent opportunity both for interviewing a ghost and distinguishing himself.
Divulging His Secret
He immediately called around him his nearest friends and relatives and divulged to them his great secret and his determination to wrestle with the ghosts. They were all astounded at the magnitude of the idea and began to make many objections, but the reporter was not to be intimidated. After selecting a few brave men to accompany him on his journey, and bidding his friends a “long, a last farewell,” departed on his journey.
The Party Equipped
It was the desire of the reporter to visit this house without any means of defense whatsoever. His sense of justice would scarcely allow him to take so mean an advantage of a ghost as to riddle him with bullets, but some one suggested on account of his family he had better take with him at least a jack-knife.
This was immediately done, and when leaving the city the party had in their possession the following articles: two double-barreled guns, four revolvers, two butcher knives, a pair of scissors, a dark lantern and a sling shot. No one knew but what it might before returning be another case of David and Goliath.
Black River
Arriving at Black River, the reporter gleaned the following facts concerning the mystery. The house, which was situated about one mile and a half from the village, was owned by George Montondo. A few weeks ago their only child about 21 years of age, died with the measles. Now it is rumored that George and his wife are not the happiest couple in the world; that is not a case with them of “two souls with but a single thought: two hearts that beat as one.”
No, each one of them proprietor of their own individual thoughts, and their little hearts instead of beating in unison thump and bang against their ribs at most irregular periods. There is nothing romantic or sentimental about the family whatever. Mrs. Montondo is inclined to be superstitious, and after the death of their boy, it was decided that they would spend their summer vacation at Watertown.
Mr. Montondo desired while sojourning here to visit his brother’s family, but this his wife for some reason objected. He claimed to have rented a house here, and last Tuesday Mr. and Mrs. Montondo came to Watertown. Mr. Montondo took his wife at once to his brother’s house, which so enraged her that she started immediately for Felts Mills on foot, walking the entire distance. She is now in that village living with her mother.
Mr. Montondo desired to sell his country residence, and of course these ghost stories did not increase the value of the property. He was much enraged at the press noticed received, and returned to Black River, swearing vengeance upon all who dared enter his premises. He was stopping at his cousin’s, near the haunted house, and had in his possession besides numerous small firearms a gatling gun and a “bean shooter.”
The reporter having learned these things, concluded that the only proper thing to be done was appease the wrath of this irate individual. Having arrived at his boarding place, the reporter with nerves of iron knocked for admittance. George Montondo was not there, but after convincing his cousin that the party were the only real simon-pure ghost exterminators in the country, permission to visit the place was secured from him.
Nearing The House
Here then the trouble began. One gentleman asked if ghosts were dangerous, another inquired if the sling shot was in working order, while the driver remarked that he thought he would sit in the carriage and hold the horses. The house was soon reached and with trembling limbs the party alighted. Each being fully armed, the raid begun, and all quietly crept to the door for fear of disturbing the ghosts. The door was reached, pushed open and the party stood in the–
Haunted House
They looked nervously at each other and one remarked that he thought he had better look after the horses. Another had left his handkerchief in the buggy and could no possibly gaze at the ghost without it, so he must return, and all evidently desired to return to the horses. Courage was finally inspired in the bosom of the reporter, and with “bated breath” the place was explored. The house was a small one story and a half house. It is unfinished, the walls being unplastered.
The party were just beginning to feel at home and conversing freely about the peculiarities of the ghosts which they had seen, when the door opened and in walked—not the ghost, but the owner of the premise, who was evidently upon his “dander.” At the sight of him all cried “ghosts” and started for the window—only of course to get a little fresh air. Discovering who it was, however, it was not thought necessary to breathe in the country air.
The smooth and oily manner of the reporter, assisted largely by some very good cigars, soon calmed him down and conversation was entered into. He at once began narration of his woes, and had just reached a point when the entire party were moved to tears at the thoughts of his suffering, when peals of laughter were heard.
All looked and listened, when the laughing was repeated. Here then were ghosts in good earnest. Four gentlemen look at each other; four gentlemen grew pale; four pairs of eyes were fairly jumping out of their sockets; four heads presented much the appearance of a “bristling porcupine.” Even the owner of the place grew nervous and remarked that he “must really go home.”
The four gentlemen at once all had urgent business out of doors, when it was discovered that the laughter, proceeded from the strong, healthy lungs of a Despatch reporter, who, with three other ghost hunters, had come there for the purpose of being frightened, and they had succeeded in their undertaking.
Another thorough investigation was made of the house and nothing being found except an old boot and two hats which had evidently been worn by the ghosts, the entire party bid Mr. Montondo good evening and left for Watertown.
It was evidently an off night for the ghosts, or else knowing the determined and undaunted spirit of the TIMES reporter, they dared not make their appearance.
1 Review on “Haunted House In Felts Mills (1881)”
The “disoriented map” is from the vantage point of “Tannery Island”. The now existing route 3 is out of sight and would be at the top of the map.