Trending
If you have been a regular reader of my column over the years, you will know that I am interested in spooky stories of our past. I don’t necessarily mean ghost stories, but stories that are just spooky in nature. It is possible that a few ghost stories will make it into our collective folklore, though, and that is all right, too. I like to look at ghost stories as a window into the past.
Looking back at some stories from Steubenville, a few come to mind that could be the basis for a good ghost story.
In the past, as in today’s world, the center of town in Steubenville was on Market Street between Fourth and Third Street. The Jefferson County Courthouse, the third to be built on that site, was the center of town, and the green space directly across the street was the city market square. In the early 19th century, that green space also served as the site of Steubenville’s whipping post. It seems that there were whippings that took place there on a regular basis. The last one occurred around 1810.
A shopkeeper who owned a business on Market Street stole some goods from Bezaleel Wells. The shopkeeper was tried and found guilty and sentenced to fines, jail time and was to be whipped nine times on his bare back with a cat of nine tails. Although that is one of the more prominent stories of a whipping that had taken place there, one could assume that this site witnessed many others in its history.
According to local lore, around the same spot during the 1820s, a gentleman supposedly called Peter Snyder was digging a well along Third Street just south of Market Street. When Snyder reached 100 feet deep, the well collapsed, entombing him inside. His remains were never recovered. The story has been passed down through the years, showing up in local history books in 1897 and 1947. The story is plausible, because the primitive water system, set up in the early years of Steubenville with wooden pipes powered by natural springs, failed around this time. It wasn’t until around 1836 that a pumping house was erected along the river just south of the Market Street bridge.
Just across Market Street from the green space is the elegant courthouse. This building, erected in 1874, was described as one of the most beautiful in Ohio. It has undergone some changes since then, most notably the removal of the bell tower and mansard roof, thanks to the snowstorm of 1950 that dumped more than 4 feet of snow, under which it collapsed due to the heavy weight.
It was from one of the upper story windows that Mrs. Julia Petrosky decided to jump on June 20, 1917, after being found guilty of murder. Petrosky had fallen in love with Sheriff George Huscroft and when she went to visit Huscroft at his office, Mr. Beem, the county jail trustee, denied her entry. She pulled out a gun and shot Beem. Petrosky was sure she would be found innocent, but it was not to be, and when the guilty verdict was handed down, she went for the windows and jumped to her death, landing on the steps below.
Looking across the river in Weirton, another spooky story always interested me, probably because I live near the spot in which it was said to have taken place.
The story begins in early 1780s, the American Revolution was winding down in the east, but on the western frontier things began to heat up. Not necessarily with British troops waging war in the fashion of the eastern battles, but many of their Native American allies were continuing to wage war on the American settlers on the eastern shore of the Ohio River in the form of raids.
The history of the Native American’s role in the American Revolution is complex and one that is varied depending on the tribe in question. War parties were formed on the part of settlers and native sides and deadly attacks were common. In the spring of 1782, a settler named Thomas Campbell was gathering sap from his sugar maple trees near his home on Kings Creek in the area where Country Club Estates in Weirton is now.
Campbell had set up a sugar camp on the hill above his cabin and was working hard to provide syrup for his family. After a long day’s work, Thomas returned to his log cabin on the creek exhausted with one bucket of syrup. His wife, noticing his exhaustion, offered to return to the sugar camp to retrieve the second bucket if Thomas watched their child. As she traversed the terrain near the present site of Culler Road reaching the top of the hill, she encountered a band of Native Americans traveling in the direction of her home.
One of the natives shot at her but missed. Mrs. Campbell ran to a neighboring homestead and alerted the community. At once a band of settlers were formed and were dispatched in the direction of the Campbell cabin. Upon arriving at the home on Kings Creek, Thomas was slain, lying in the doorway with his flintlock nearby. The child also had been killed and was found nearby the cabin.
Both were scalped as was the custom of the natives at that time. The war party was tracked by the settlers, but they were not found, and no revenge was waged in retaliation for this attack. Certainly, atrocities were waged by both sides of the conflict in those days.
If there were ever ghosts, these stories would be a great beginning to a spooky tale. History sometimes is spookier than fiction and, in our area, there are plenty of tales to work from.
(Zuros is the executive director of Historic Fort Steuben)