by Gwynn Alcorn

Created on: July 22, 2008

Unfinished Business

"Can the dead come back to this world to take care of unfinished business?" asked Robert Stack, host of Unsolved Mysteries.

Perhaps this tale will provide an answer.

At the turn of the century, Samuel Bancroft, who was a Member of the Legislative Assembly in Nova Scotia, farmed and operated a store in the hamlet of Round Hill in the Annapolis Valley. He lived in a stately white house with his four grown children from his first marriage, and his second wife.

Samuel was considered to be very wealthy. After all, he had purchased a $100,000 life insurance policy on his wife. At the time of this story, Samuel began wandering around the little village, distractedly whittling on a piece of wood and telling everyone he had lost all his money.

Mrs. Bancroft could be described as a woman who suffered from the vapors her mind was a bit unbalanced. When she realized that Samuel was worried about money, she began to think she could help him by dying. The family moved her to a room on the main floor so they could more readily keep an eye on her.

However, one cold winter night, she slipped out of the house in her nightgown and stockings and sat under an apple tree until she died of exposure.

At least that is how the story was told to me by my 85-year-old neighbour.

He attended the funeral that was held in the large Bancroft farmhouse, where the casket was displayed on the dining room table, as was the custom of the time.

Shortly thereafter Samuel, his money problems now solved, moved away and married a young schoolteacher.

Seventy years later my husband Keith and I, his second wife, moved into the former Bancroft home. I loved farming, but although my husband liked the idea of being a gentleman farmer, he was not interested in the day-to-day work required.

Soon strange episodes began to happen, starting with the front door bell ringing. On a house over a hundred years old, the original doorbell was a round, bell-shaped piece of cast metal, with a small handle attached that, when turned, operated a small metal hammer inside. It takes strength to operate that kind of a doorbell to make it ring loudly.

Each time the doorbell rang, I would go to the door, but no one was there. It got to be a bit annoying and eventually I began to take note of whether a heavy truck had just gone by on the nearby highway and its weight caused the earth to vibrate, which set off the doorbell.
That wasn't the case.

Then I began to note whether there was a high wind when the bell rang. That

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