How to get there:
During this adventure we got lost and turned around half a dozen times reading conflicting information on other blogs. So before I go any further here is how to get there: First locate Historic Cemetery #45 (Also called the Hopkins Mills Cemetery) at the beginning of Danielson Pike. Go to the very end of the cemetery and you’ll find a trail head with a few parking spaces. Take this path to the river (not that far away… certainly less than a mile) and voila! You should see the ruins there. SUPER EASY.
The History:
Foster RI is a pretty rural place, even today. It has a certain rugged beauty and this apparently is nothing new. It was incorporated in 1781 after separating from Scituate and for the next hundred or so years it was considered a rather rough place to live. Indeed, there was a factory here that was the soul of this village. It was the Rams Tail Woolen Mill, powered by the river. Of course at this time in history working the mills would have been a brutal existence and there would have been a lot of unmarried girls and children working the machinery and probably a good deal of accidents and possible deaths but strangely it’s none of these that have led to the area getting a haunted reputation. Instead this may date back to 1822 when former owner Peleg Walker had to hand over his ownership of the factory due to debts. Instead of complying he decided to lock himself in the factory on his last night and slit his own throat. They say his ghost haunted the grounds for many years afterwards – with the factory machinery starting up on their own as well as a litany of other complaints. The factory ran until 1850 before closing and was set ablaze by arsonists in 1873 – some say to rid it of it’s ghosts. But if that was the intention it did not work. If anything it just added to the frustrated energy felt here.
The Factory is little more than a bit of a foundation and a rock wall aside the stream now. Everything that is left has been taken over by the forest and it seems strange to think this was once a bustling center. I sat on a rock in the stream and enjoyed the summer day here feeling like I was in the middle of the ruins in the Jungle Book. It was calm, peaceful, and refreshing. I didn’t see any ghosts, nor feel anyone’s disembodied torment, but I don’t disbelieve the stories others tell. A place so rich in history probably does have a few spirits still lingering around.
Bonus Destination: Nearby Haunted Bridge
If you take a very quick walk down Daniel’s Pike you’ll find a bridge, under the bridge was a once popular swimming hole that claimed several lives with it’s mucky quicksand-like bottom. Just a little ways up stream Betsey Grayson drowned in 1860 after toppling into the river while fetching a bucket of water. Some attribute the ghost along the river’s edge to her, others say it’s a different drowning victim. Either way the place is eerie calm. Both the bridge and the Rams Tail Factory Ruins were super quiet when we visited. Quiet and except for the child’s mask lying on the ground – quite abandoned. It was an interesting little jaunt into yet another little corner of historic New England.
The first bridge I came to was the Carlton Bridge on Carlton Road. Super easy find! I drove right to it! It was nestled between a lot of farmland and some houses, a really pretty area and there was a turn off to park. It’s a one-lane two-way bridge which isn’t unusual, luckily there was no traffic and better still there was a delightful little path that went down to the bottom of it where I could splash in the water and play with the camera. It was quiet here and quite beautiful. I was delighted by this. You go to one covered bridge and you sort of feel like you’ve seen them all but this one was just so sweet, so serene, that it really made me instantly fond of it. Other people were too. I got a few people slowing down to check out Daisy’s lovely new tatts and just as I drove away an old man pulled in, smiling.
The next bridge was on Sawyer’s Crossing. My GPS didn’t seem to know which road was Sawyer’s Crossing and this area was super confusing, filled with all sorts of winding roads all connecting to each other in what I can only say is the most disorienting rat’s nest of turns I have seen in a long long time. I did eventually find the bridge by looking for a river on the GPS map and going towards it. However by this time there was a sports car behind me, nudging Daisy’s poor ass, so I had to go over the bridge instead of stopping. As it turns out there’s no place to park, AT ALL. There’s no parking lot, no turn offs, you could barely pull over aside the road far enough to let another car go coming form the other direction. It was weird. I found three trails down a nearby road but not their beginning, just their middle which went across the road. My curiosity was peaked but I didn’t really know how to explore that further. Instead I wound over that damn bridge two more times, both times a car appearing out of the middle of nowhere to ride my bumper. I got annoyed, never did manage to snap a photo, though it looks much like the other bridge, just lacking in the quiet charm.
The third bridge is called Thomson Bridge and it is right on Main Street, has a pedestrian walkway right over it, and ample parking! I couldn’t have asked for better! Instantly I liked this bridge too. It was bigger but still only one lane for cars and one for pedestrians. It spanned a lovely river and a dam which apparently doesn’t exist anymore. It was such a drop dead gorgeous day I loitered and took marble photos for quite a while. Some cars passed but not many and going back to the car I was struck by how beautiful the decaying wool mill behind it was. I wanted to explore that further so I hopped in my car, turned it on, drove over the bridge, and turned down a nearby street to see the ruins better.
