by Tim Weisberg
Even now, nearly seventy years after the Morgan left New Bedford, its residents still call for Mystic to return the ship to its native port. Maybe then, Gerald can return home as well.
LAKEVILLE AND FREETOWN
In 1659, English settlers paid the sum of “20 coats, two rugs, two iron pots, two kettles, a little kettle, eight pairs of shoes, six pair of stockings, one dozen hoes, one dozen hatchets and two yards of broadcloth” to Massasoit for what was known as Ye Freeman’s Purchase, a large tract of land that would eventually split into Fall River and Freetown, including the villages of East Freetown and Assonet (an Indian word to describe its rocky geography). It was the last land purchase made from the Wampanoags before the outbreak of King Philip’s War.
Included in the deal was “a debt satisfied to John Barnes,” which allegedly was for a large alcohol tab Massasoit had racked up in Barnes’s tavern.
An interesting note regarding Freetown history: In 1699, the town voted to erect a meetinghouse to comply with the law of the colony, but it wasn’t completed until 1713. It took even longer to find a clergyman to serve the town because they were more liberal in their beliefs and couldn’t agree on who would suit the congregation as a whole. It wasn’t until 1747 that they finally agreed on someone, and even then they forced him to sign a contract that stated that the town wouldn’t pay his salary and, instead, he’d have to live on donations.
Lakeville, meanwhile, was part of the Middleboro settlement all the way until it was incorporated as its own separate town in 1853 and named for the large ponds found throughout.
Assawompset Pond
Assawompset Pond in Lakeville has the distinction of being the site where King Philip’s War began. It was here that Metacom’s men supposedly murdered John Sassamon and stowed his body under the pond’s ice.
For that reason alone, we can deduce that the spectral Wampanoag seen walking along its shores and even atop its waves is Sassamon himself, but the pond has even deeper roots to his people that extend for thousands of years before the English ever stepped foot near it.
Assawompset is Wampanoag for “place of the white stones,” which could be a reference to the quartz that is found in abundance throughout the area, the same mineral that records energy and is a factor in paranormal activity. The Indians would summer at Betty’s Neck, find these stones and use them in their medicine rituals.
The pond is also a major component in one of the Wampanoag’s greatest mythological tales. Maushop, a giant from ancient times who is sort of the tribe’s creator god, was beloved by the Wampanoags. This brought great anger to the Pukwudgies (puck-wudge-ee), small troll-like creatures who were known as tricksters to the Wampanoag people.
Lakeville’s Assawompset Pond is the site where King Philip’s War essentially began and its haunted history lives on.
According to Christopher Balzano on his Massachusetts Paranormal Crossroads website:
Standing between two and three feet tall, the Pukwudgie looks much like our modern idea of a troll. His features mirror those of the Native American in the area, but the nose, fingers and ears are enlarged and the skin is described as being grey and or washed-out, smooth and at times has been known to glow.
What makes these monsters dangerous is the multitude of magical abilities they use to torment and manipulate people. They can appear and disappear at will and are said to be able to transform into other animals. They have possession of magical, poison arrows that can kill and can create fire at will. They seem to often be related to a tall dark figure, often referred to in modern times to shadow people. In turn the Pukwudgies control Tei-Pai-Wankas, which are believed to be the souls of Native Americans they have killed. They use these lights to entice new victims in the woods so they may kidnap or kill them. In European folklore these balls of energy are known as Will-o-the-Wisps and are said to accompany many paranormal occurrences. Modern paranormal investigators call them orbs, and catching one on film is the gold standard of field research.
At the behest of his wife, Quant, Maushop rid his people of the Pukwudgies by shaking them and throwing them to the farthest reaches of civilization. However, they regrouped and returned, this time with far more evil intentions. Soon, they were kidnapping children and burning down homes, and in some cases killing the Wampanoag people. Maushop tried to have his five sons kill all the Pukwudgies, but the little demons overpowered each of them. Finally, Maushop tried to do the job himself, but they led him into the waters of Assawompset Pond and attacked him with their poison arrows.
One version of the myth suggests they killed Maushop, while another says that he grew despondent over the death of his sons and simply gave up the fight. Either way, it signaled the end of Maushop in Wampanoag lore, but it was only the beginning of the legend of the Pukwudgie. They are still reported today—mostly in the Freetown State Forest, discussed later in this chapter—and Balzano actively documents Pukwudgie sightings on his website and in his books.
While the spirit seen haunting Assawompset Pond is more likely Metacom or John Sassamon, it could also be the final resting place of the great Maushop. Only the Pukwudgies know for sure.
Lakeville Hospital
Just down the road from Assawompset Pond is the site of the former Lakeville Hospital, which originally opened as the Lakeville State Sanatorium in 1910 to treat those infected with tuberculosis.
Unlike the physically imposing insane asylums in Danvers and Taunton that were designed by Thomas Kirkbride, the Lakeville “San” was designed by John A. Fox to feature open-air verandas, as fresh air exposure was thought to alleviate the symptoms of TB and create a more homelike atmosphere.
Lakeville Hospital will soon be demolished, but don’t expect its ghosts to go easily.
Still, abuse of patients did occur with frequency, including blasting cold water in the faces of patients in body casts or shoving their faces in their food. As TB waned in the second half of the twentieth century, the San was renamed Lakeville Hospital and turned to more general care before eventually becoming a long-term care facility until it closed for good in 1991.
Since then, the buildings have stood abandoned but guarded. Unlike other former hospitals and asylums that have become a haven for paranormal investigators and legend trippers alike, Lakeville has round-the-clock security to ward off those who attempt to trespass.
After it closed, the town sold the property for commercial development, and there were plans to demolish it in 2003. However, it still stands as of this writing, another example of how the ghosts might just be standing in the way of progress.
Many people who have walked by the hospital have reported hearing screams coming from the inside—but even creepier are the reports of the laughter of children. There was a children’s ward in the old sanatorium, and the front building that was erected in the 1960s had a children’s wing on the third floor. There are also rumors that some of the children who perished from tuberculosis in the early part of the twentieth century were buried in unmarked graves somewhere on the property, but a project manager for the site found no records of any burials in state documentation.
One paranormal investigator who has had the opportunity to investigate haunts all over the country told me Lakeville Hospital still remains his holy grail. His mother worked there before it closed, and she told him that even then, the staff would whisper about the ghostly children on the third floor who would throw open doors and bang on the windows, as if they were trying to escape.
Royal Wampanoag Cemetery
As pointed out on the website HauntedLakeville.com, the town of Lakeville has nearly one cemetery per square mile of land—twenty-eight in all. While many of them are family plots from the early days in the town’s history, there is only one that can claim to be truly royal.
The Royal Wampanoag Cemetery sits on an isolated stretch of Route 105 on the shores of Little Quitticas Pond. In all, there are only a little more than twenty graves in the cemetery, each one a Native American and many believed to be
relatives of Tispaquin, including Amie, Massasoit’s only known daughter and Tispaquin’s wife. Known as the Black Sachem for his darker skin tone, Tispaquin was one of Metacom’s trusted lieutenants. When Metacom surrendered and was killed, Tispaquin surrendered a few days later, after Benjamin Church gave his word that his life would be spared. The promise was not kept, however.
The descendents of Massasoit are buried in the Royal Wampanoag Cemetery in Lakeville.
Most of the graves are simple Wampanoag markers that descendents of the tribe still decorate and care for today. There are only a few graves with actual markers, including the grave of Lydia Tuspaquin (as the Tispaquin name was sometimes spelled), the last person buried in the cemetery back in 1812.
The most commonly reported phenomena here are phantom lights that dart about the graves. But a few travelers down Route 105 have also reported seeing a Wampanoag in traditional garb walking forlornly down the road, vanishing when he gets within site of the cemetery.
An example of an Indian grave at the Royal Wampanoag Cemetery.
A simple but effective crossing of faiths.
Paranormal investigators have also captured EVPs at the burial ground containing what sounds like Wampanoag words, although no translations could be found.
The Dark Woods
Simply put, the level of paranormal activity that occurs within the borders of the Freetown State Forest is astounding. It was enough for Balzano to write an entire book on the topic, called Dark Woods: Cults, Crime and the Paranormal in the Freetown State Forest. The title says it all.
In Balzano’s expanded definition of the Bridgewater Triangle, the center of the vortex is not the Hockomock Swamp, but rather the nearly fifty-five hundred acres that comprise what is formally known as the Freetown–Fall River State Forest. Every type of paranormal activity imaginable has been reported there, from ghosts to UFOs to Bigfoot sightings. Balzano has even tracked stories about zombies, a witch who lives in the woods and haunts the dreams of young boys and, of course, the elusive Pukwudgies.
Yet as scary as the paranormal might be in the Freetown State Forest, what man has done there is far more heinous.
Because of its proximity to two cities and three major highways, the Freetown State Forest is used as both playground and dumping ground for the criminally minded.
In November 1978, fifteen-year-old Mary Lou Arruda was kidnapped and murdered, her body found tied to a tree in the Freetown State Forest. The main suspect was thirty-two-year-old James Kater, who was tried and convicted in 1979, but it took three subsequent retrials to make the verdict stick.
Part of the reason why doubt remained about Kater’s guilt had to do with the high level of cult activity that takes place in the forest. While mutilated animals, altars, disfigured dolls and other such disturbing things had been found in the forest over the years, the cults remained mostly benign until the late 1970s and early 1980s.
That’s when Carl Drew, a pimp working in the nearby city of Fall River, allegedly murdered several of his prostitutes and dumped their bodies in the forest. According to witnesses, Drew kept the women addicted to drugs and eventually lured them to his shack in the forest, where they would become human sacrifices for his cult. The case remains controversial to this day.
There have been other murders and attacks within the forest as well, and not all of it is cult related. In recent years, drug addicts have been a problem as well, using the isolation of the forest to ride out their high in peace. A Wampanoag ceremonial camp and cultural center was the victim of arson in 2009.
It’s a chicken-and-the-egg argument when trying to figure out whether these dark events are influencing the paranormal aspects of the forest, or vice versa. But make no mistake, the negative energy there is extremely high and concentrated throughout its fifteen square miles.
The Assonet Ledge is one of the forest’s most haunted spots. The predominant tale involves the Lady of the Ledge, who is said to be a Wampanoag princess who threw herself from atop the ledge when her father would not allow her to marry the white man she loved. That story, however, seems to be a modern concoction from those who don’t know the history of the site. Although there may be spirits there that predate it, the ledge was part of a quarry that was operational in the early 1900s and provided much of the granite that was used to construct buildings in Fall River and even for work on some of the famed mansions in Newport, Rhode Island. What’s interesting is that a number of the structures that have used this granite have hauntings attached to them as well.
The Assonet Ledge in the Freetown State Forest, where legends run as deep as the waters.
Still, numerous reports of the lady have filtered in over the years, including a sighting by Spooky Southcoast’s Matt Moniz during his early adulthood. While out researching a flap of UFO sightings in the area of the ledge, he walked out from the road to the top of it and saw a woman in white standing near the edge. He turned to tell his companions about it, and when he turned around, she was gone.
Thinking she had jumped, he rushed to the edge but saw nothing in the water below. When recounting the incident to locals, they informed him he had seen the Lady of the Ledge. Prior to that, he had never heard of the legend.
According to Balzano’s research, there have been at least eighteen confirmed suicides from the top of the ledge, as well as numerous others who have reported feeling suicidal with a strong desire to jump when at the top. There are also reports of ghostly figures plummeting from the top of it as well.
Mysterious lights have also been seen rising from the depths of the water below, yet unable to break the surface of it. There is speculation that these may be some type of alien craft—what’s known as a USO, or unidentified submerged object—or they could be a form of the Pukwudgies of Wampanoag mythology.
Another site closely associated with the tribe is Profile Rock, which is formally known as Joshua’s Mountain. The Wampanoags believed the natural formation jutting out of the side of the fifty-foot mound of granite resembled the face of Massasoit, and they revered the site. In subsequent years, however, it was privately owned until it was sold to the commonwealth and made into a state park in the early 1900s.
It is said that, from the top of Profile Rock, Wampanoag warriors could send smoke signals to Metacom back on his rocky “throne” on Mount Hope in Bristol, Rhode Island. Those same warriors are still reported atop the rock today, even in the daylight hours, and those traveling about the area often glimpse smoke coming from its quartz-covered peak.
It is also a reported hotbed for Bigfoot sightings as well, being the outermost portion of the Freetown State Forest before reaching the civilization of Assonet.
A 1963 image of Profile Rock clearly shows the face of Massasoit before erosion and graffiti took its toll. Courtesy of Frank Wing.
The forest itself is bisected by Copicut Road, which has its own ghostly legend, albeit one that is more story than substance. As the story goes, when driving down the road late at night, you’ll see headlights in your rearview mirror and hear the blaring of a truck’s air horn as the swerving vehicle tries to pass you. Once you finally do find a safe spot to pull over and let him pass, the truck vanishes.
The Mad Trucker of Copicut Road, as he’s come to be known, is actually reported by very few people, yet the legend continues to grow. In what’s become known as “legend tripping” (as featured in Jeff Belanger’s books Picture Yourself Legend Tripping and Weird Massachusetts), sometimes it’s more about the possibility of what might happen on a desolate dirt road than what actually does.
If This Rock Could Talk
Not far from the Freetown State Forest, in nearby Berkley, is Dighton Rock State Park. It is the site where a forty-ton boulder was discovered in colonial times, covered in strange writing and symbols that has yet to be determined. Some have speculated that it is an unknown Indian language, while others have deemed to it be of Norse or Portuguese origins. A few have even suggested that Phoenicians or Egyptians visited the area
well before Christopher Columbus discovered the New World.
The Old Village House
One of the legends of Assonet that has gained legs in the paranormal community is that of the Old Village House. Whenever paranormal investigators come to this area and conduct online research of what they should check out, the story that always pops up about the Old Village House and how it is the site of one of Assonet’s most heinous crimes.
As the story goes, it was in the early days of the town’s existence, and the town’s first selectman lived in the house with his family. He became angry with his teenage daughter for some reason, and a scuffle ensued in her second-story bedroom. The selectman inadvertently pushed his daughter out the bedroom window and she died when she struck the ground. In the years following her murder, her spirit has come to haunt the Old Village House, walking up and down its staircase with heavy footsteps, slamming doors closed and leaving scratch marks on the window of her bedroom.
It’s a great story, and one that would certainly make an interesting investigation—if it existed.
The house in question may be what was known as the Old Homestead, which at one time was the oldest house in Assonet. There is no record, however, of any selectman pushing his daughter out a window. Believers of the tale will point out that in those days, such a story would be kept quiet for posterity, but you should be wary of this one.