Why Houghton Mansion is known as one of Massachusetts’ most haunted places

Houghton Mansion sits majestic and commanding on one of the oldest streets in the city of North Adams, Massachusetts. To the unsuspecting passerby, the sizable manor appears distinguished and innocuous — the kind of place that is untouched by misfortune. However, the mansion conceals behind its walls a calamitous past, one that has led locals to refer to it as one of the most haunted houses in New England. The truth is, no single home or place, no matter how opulent and beautiful, is immune to the hand of tragedy, and once it strikes, it can set into motion a chain reaction of events that continues to reverberate for more than 100 years.

The history of A.C. Houghton and his grand North Adams mansion

Albert Charles (A.C.) Houghton was born in Stamford, Vermont, on April 13, 1844, the youngest of nine children to James and Chloe Houghton. His father was one of the most prominent men in Stamford, serving as a successful politician, trial justice, and keeper of a general store. He began his business career at the age of 18 by following in his father’s footsteps and starting a general store, which he grew into a successful establishment in the area. Later, he partnered with his brother, J.R. Houghton, and founded Houghton Chemical Works, where they manufactured red and iron liquors as well as acetic acid. 

In 1866, Houghton married Cordelia J. Smith, and they would go on to have four surviving children. Just two years later, his ambitions carried him across the border into North Adams, Massachusetts, where he invested in real estate and the grain business. These ventures only propelled his extraordinary success. Over the following decades, Houghton expanded his empire, becoming president and principal owner of Arnold Print Works and Beaver Mill, renowned for producing some of the finest cotton in the country. His influence extended far beyond North Adams: by 1892, he presided over the A.J. Houghton Brewing Company in Boston and soon secured positions as director of the West End Railway, the Boston & Albany Railroad, and the International Trust Company of Boston. His reach even extended into education and finance, serving as a trustee of Williams College, president of North Adams Savings Bank, vice president of Adams National Bank, director of Berkshire Life Insurance in Pittsfield, and a commissioner for the World’s Fair.

Houghton and his family made North Adams their permanent home in 1870. When the town was officially incorporated as a city in 1895, it was Houghton who was chosen to serve as its first mayor—a fitting honor for a man so deeply entwined with its growth. Just a year later, he purchased the grand Sanford Blackinton Mansion, celebrated as one of the finest homes in Massachusetts, and gifted it to the people of North Adams as their public library. By this time, A.C. Houghton was not only a man of immense wealth and success but also one held in genuine affection by the community he had helped shape.

A.C. Houghton built his grandiose estate on Church Street in 1897. Built in the Neoclassical Revival style, the mansion boasted seventeen rooms, a hipped roof clad in Spanish tile, stained glass windows that caught the shifting light, and delicate Roman leaf and scrollwork architraves. Beyond the house stood a spacious stable for the family’s horses, and along the property’s edge stretched a stone wall, fashioned from rocks drawn from the nearby Hoosac Tunnel. Like the other great estates that lined Church Street, the Houghton Mansion stood as both a symbol of prosperity and a stark reminder of the widening gap between wealthy industrialists and the laborers whose toil built their fortunes.

The beginning of Houghton Mansion’s dark story

On August 1, 1914, A.C. Houghton and his youngest daughter, Mary Houghton, invited their friends, Dr. Robert Hutton and Sybil Hutton, who were vacationing in North Adams, to accompany them on a short trip to Bennington, Vermont. They set off on their journey at around 9:00 am in their Pierce-Arrow touring car. About half an hour into their excursion, they encountered a section of road that was under repair and a team of workers standing nearby. As the chauffeur, John Widders, was ascending the hill, he lost control of the car, and the engine began to race. In an attempt to avoid the workers, he yanked on the steering wheel, causing the car to plunge suddenly down a steep embankment. As it fell, the vehicle overturned three times, violently crushing Sybil Hutton and killing her almost instantly before landing in a pasture about 50 feet from where it had started. She was 33 and had married her husband just five years prior. Mary Houghton was pulled from the backseat and taken to a hospital in North Adams, where she died shortly after 3:00 pm from head and internal injuries. At the time of her death, she was 37 years old and was deeply cherished by the people of North Adams, having been noted for her kindness and regard for others. Dr. Hutton, A.C. Houghton, and the chauffeur, John Widders, escaped the wreck with only minor injuries. The accident garnered significant local attention, including from the media, due to the prominence of those involved. In fact, the news of the accident shocked the residents of North Adams, prompting people to gather on Main Street in support of the Houghton family. 

Grief upon grief: The losses that followed the Houghton family accident

Chauffer, John Widders, was employed by the Haughtons as their coachman for 42 years before the accident. He had just recently learned to drive their new touring car and added the role of chauffeur to his resume. Through his long service to the family, he became very attached to them. By all accounts,  Widders was inconsolable and riddled with the heavy burden of guilt following the accident. In fact, the Haughtons’ gardener, James Hynes, thought it advisable to keep a watchful eye on him overnight out of concern for the chauffeur’s mental state. Hynes reported that Widders could not calm down or sleep.

At around 4:00 in the morning, Widders and Hynes were in the stable together and stepped outside for a brief amount of time to have a cigarette. At some point, Widders said he was going back into the stable. When he didn’t return, Hynes felt an overwhelming sense of apprehension and quickly summoned assistance before going back to the stable to look for Widders. The police were notified and came to assist in locating the distraught chauffeur. Eventually, they found Widders’ body in the basement of the barn, lifeless and lying next to a revolver, making it apparent that he had shot himself. The bullet went completely through his head, entering his right temple and exiting in front of his left ear.

Widders had lived in North Adams for 44 years, but he was a mysterious and reserved person, so not much was known about his birthplace or history. It was thought he was around 64 years old when he died. Widders reportedly told people he was originally from New Hampshire, but ran away as a child to join the circus; a story likely made up to avoid sharing any actual details of his life. He left no will, and for a long period, no one came forward to claim his estate. When it was about to revert to the state, his mother, Henrietta Ostrander, came forward to claim it. This is how it was discovered that his name was really John Winters. Having been so close to the Houghtons and apparently wanting nothing to do with his own family, Widders was laid to rest in the Houghton family plot in Southview Cemetery in North Adams. 

Following the death of John Widders, A.C. Houghton, himself, died just nine days later at his home on Church Street at the age of 70. He had been in poor health for several years prior to the accident, so some believe that while the injuries he sustained were not serious, the shock of the accident made his condition worse, carrying him swiftly to the grave. Others whisper it was not illness at all, but a broken heart that silenced his own. It was reported that more than 1,000 people attended his funeral. Both A.C. Houghton and his daughter Mary, are also buried in the Houghton family plot, but the tale of the Houghtons and John Widders did not end with the closing of their coffins. Grief of such depth does not easily fade; it seeps into the very bones of a place, lingering long after the mourners have gone.

Inside the haunted Haughton Mansion

With so much sorrow imbued in its walls, it’s no wonder that Houghton Mansion is considered one of the most haunted houses in Massachusetts. Those said to remain are not nameless phantoms, rather the very souls tied to its history. It is believed that the spirits of A.C. and Mary Houghton, as well as that of John Widders, are all bound to the house they once filled with life. 

Paranormal disturbances at the Houghton Mansion became so frequent that they gave rise to a local band of ghost hunters drawn to its shadowed halls. Visitors describe fleeting figures at the edge of their vision, such as shadow people slipping across doorways, or darting shapes that vanish before the mind can process them. Others tell of footprints materializing on freshly scrubbed floors as though someone still walks the corridors. Many have felt the eerie brush of an invisible hand, a touch both intimate and unsettling, while objects seem to shift of their own volition when no one is near. Doors creek open and quietly shut as footsteps echo through empty rooms. Ghost-hunting groups who have dared to enter report capturing disembodied voices through their recorders, or EVPs, whispering responses from beyond the veil.

Mary Houghton is often glimpsed in her own room, her presence not only marked by the fleeting outline of a figure but by the heavy feeling of sorrow that seems to fall upon those who enter. A.C. Houghton, too, is seen and heard, his spirit still anchored to the room where he once slept. The faithful chauffeur, John Widders, appears in the form of a shadow, his steps reverberating from the servant stairs leading to his old chambers. In one instance, a group of ghost hunters claimed to have captured a chilling EVP in his bedroom, bitterly commanding them to “get out.”  

The basement of the mansion carries its own strange lore. Some speak of an unknown young girl drifting through the shadows, her form dissolving into the walls as if they’ve swallowed her whole. She is said to giggle softly, peering around doorframes and toying with visitors. Further, people insist they see sparks of colorful light shimmer and vanish right before their eyes.

The cascade of tragedies linked to the Houghton Mansion has stirred whispered rumors among locals of a curse placed on the family. Some say the very stones used for the stone wall, taken from the nearby Hoosac Tunnel, carry with them a dark energy that eventually infected the entire house like a sickness. After all, the Hoosac Tunnel is better known by another name: the Bloody Pit. Its construction was perilous, shaded by a myriad of accidents that killed or seriously injured nearly 200 workers, with 135 verified deaths. While the Hoosac Tunnel has its own dark legacy that continues to loom nearby, it has forever been intertwined with that of the Houghton Mansion, which bears the weight of the personal tragedies of those who lived within its walls. 

What became of the Houghton Mansion

Following the death of A.C. and Mary Houghton, Florence, one of the surviving Houghton daughters, moved into the mansion with her husband, William A. Gallup. They looked after her mother, Cordelia, who suffered from an extended illness until she died in 1918. They continued to reside in the house until William retired in 1926. At that time, Florence and her sister, Susan Houghton McKeon, sold the mansion to the Lafayette-Greylock Freemasons. Once they took possession of the property, the Masons got rid of the original formal garden and constructed their lodge building in its place, adding another 10,000 square feet. Later, the Spanish tile roof was removed and replaced with asphalt, and siding was put over the clapboards. Otherwise, the exterior looks just as it did when it was built. The fate of some of the other mansions on Church Street has not been so fortunate, with many falling into disrepair.  

Eventually, the high cost of keeping the building up to code became too heavy a burden for the Lafayette-Greylock Freemasons, and they were forced to sell the house to hotel developer Benjamin Svenon at a reported price of $160,000. The building has since been closed to the public. At the time of its sale, the mansion retained many of its original light fixtures, the old coal furnace in the basement, and six marble-clad fireplaces. It is unclear whether they remain today. Currently, the exterior is adorned with a fresh coat of paint, and appears as if the interior is undergoing renovation. 

Whatever becomes of Houghton Mansion in the years to come, it will always belong to its ghosts as it dwells, a remnant of the past that breathes with history. Time has been unsuccessful in erasing the tragedies of the past; instead, they overlap with the present, like the words from the page of a book faintly visible through another. And so, the mansion itself has become a storyteller, echoing the tales of those who once called it home and thus ensuring its place among the most legendary haunted houses in Massachusetts.  

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