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~ Lucan ~

After all these years the tragedy that befell the Donnelly family on the night of February 3, 1880, can still be felt. A group of vigilantes burst into their homestead on the Roman Line, near the village of Lucan, and killed the family in cold blood. Was it a case of murder? Why does this story continue to haunt the imagination of so many people? How many lost souls wander the Roman Line?

These questions preoccupied me as my car made the turn onto the Roman Line. Donnelly investigation, here we come. Once on the Roman Line I saw St. Patrick’s Church and my thoughts focused on the surroundings — a community made up of both Irish Catholics and Irish Protestants. Their hatred for one another had not been left back in Ireland. The bickering, the fighting and the bad feelings were very much alive. Lucan, Ontario, like Belfast, Ireland in the 1990s, was a very dangerous place to live in the mid-1800s. I wandered through the graveyard, past old moss-covered monuments with variations of the Celtic cross and found the Donnelly gravestone. The inscription verified that five of the Donnelly family had perished on the same day. A short distance down the Roman Line was the Donnelly Homestead. What had really happened here?

James and Johannah Donnelly arrived in Canada from Ireland with their first child, James Jr., in 1842. James found work in London, Ontario and a second son, William, was born there in 1844. The following year they settled in Biddulph Township near Lucan and built a shanty on lot 18 of the sixth concession. A third son was born in 1847 and Johannah gave birth to four more sons over the next nine years.

On June 25, 1857, a man by the name of Maloney was having a logging bee. It was at this bee that James Donnelly senior got into a fight with Pat Farrell. When the fight ended Pat was dead. A feud started over this incident. James hid out for some time from the law, but eventually served seven years in the Kingston Penitentiary. He was released from prison in 1865. In 1870 the Donnelly family found four large fieldstones and placed them near the shanty to form a foundation for a standard six metres by eight metres (18 feet by 26 feet) squared-log cabin. In 1871 a large frame kitchen was added to the back of the cabin.

William Donnelly built this house on the site of the original house a year after the killings. Robert and his nephew James, son of Michael, are in front. Circa 1901.

The Donnellys were feared by many in the region. By 1875 the Donnelly brothers were behaving like bullies in the streets and in the taverns in both Lucan and in the surrounding district. The Donnellys had many friends, but had at least as many enemies. Ray Fazakas, in his book entitled The Donnelly Album stated, “In all justice it must be stated, said one man who was friendly toward them, they would scarcely stop at anything to resent a real or fancied injury … so disorderly and lawless a state has the place become that it is often impossible to get magistrates to issue, or for constables to execute processes when required.”

It was not uncommon for a Donnelly to use force to get what he wanted. And it was more apt to be a threat to kill than a warning! No constable in his right mind attempted to arrest or rebuke an individual who showed neither fear of death nor any remorse.

In January 1879 Father John Connolly arrived in the area at the request of Bishop Walsh. The Bishop wanted the good Father to investigate all the crimes that had been occurring in the parish. Father Connolly walked the roads of the parish and interviewed people about barn burnings, animal mutilations, beatings, and thefts that were ongoing in the parish. A grim picture was painted of the violent Donnelly boys.

Father Connolly created a Property Protective Association. Members of this group would go from farm to farm to search for stolen property. This was meant to help determine who was committing the crimes. The association later changed its name to the Biddulph Peace Society. Members met at the Cedar Swamp School on what is now Highway 23.

James Donnelly wanted to join this organization, but his son William persuaded him not to do it. He believed that someone would hide stolen goods on their property in order to see them charged with theft. William was not far off the mark. Already this Society had formed an inner committee for the purpose of determining ways to deal with the Donnellys. The time for action was nearing. When Patrick Ryder’s barn was burned to the ground, this vigilante group advised him to charge the Donnelly boys with the crime. Unfortunately for the Society, all the Donnelly sons were accounted for on the night the barn was burned. Ryder didn’t stop there; he charged James and Johannah with the crime. Who really burned the Ryder barn down? Was this justice or was it vendetta?

Everyone ended up in court, but there was no evidence to prove James or Johannah had burned the barn down. Justice Grant of the court allowed for one more court date to be set. Ryder and his friends of the inner committee knew full well that the Donnellys could bring false-arrest charges against the men who had been responsible for their trial. This would mean payment of monetary damages to the Donnellys.

The committee met at the Cedar Swamp School to discuss what they should do. They decided to pay the Donnellys a visit on the night of February 3, the day before the next court date. They would tie them to trees and beat them, if necessary to extract confessions for all their crimes. As a precautionary measure they asked James and William Feeheley, friends of the Donnelly family, to find out where the Donnellys would be on that night. The Feeheley brothers were promised $500, the amount outstanding on the elder Mr. Feeheley’s mortgage. If the brothers didn’t agree, their father would lose his farm.

Meanwhile, the Donnellys had gone to Lucan that day for supplies and to pick up young Johnny O’Connor to house-sit the farm the next day while they were at court.

James Feeheley paid a call at the Donnelly home that night. He talked with Tom, Johannah, and Johannah’s niece, Bridget, who was visiting from Tipperary, Ireland. He heard James Sr. talking to someone in the bedroom and thought it was his son, John Donnelly. He also saw that Tom was going to sleep in the bedroom near the kitchen and Johannah was to sleep in her bedroom with Bridget. Feeheley left then and stayed nearby to watch. At about midnight 35 men, led by 28-year-old constable James Carroll, left the Swamp School and headed for the Donnelly home. They met Feeheley and heard what he had to say. The vigilantes surrounded the house.

Constable Carroll gave the men orders to wait outside until he gave them the word to enter. Carroll then opened the door and entered Tom’s bedroom. He lit a candle and snapped a set of handcuffs on Tom. Carroll informed him that he was under arrest.

Johannah came out of her bedroom to see what the commotion was all about. She returned and asked Bridget to get up and feed the kitchen fire to warm the place. Carroll proceeded to James Donnelly’s bedroom. He told Donnelly that he had another charge against him and ordered him to get up. James got dressed and Johnny O’Connor handed him his coat, one that he had been using as a pillow, but Johnny remained in the bed. Carroll seemed oblivious to Johnny. It was apparent that Constable Carroll was drunk.

Carroll asked James where his son John was. James replied that he wasn’t at home and turned to Carroll and demanded that he read the charge. At that moment Carroll shouted and the men surrounding the house charged in, swinging clubs. James was struck first and sank to the floor near the stove. Bridget ran from the kitchen through the darkened living room and up the stairs to the loft. Johnny O’Connor hid beneath his bed. Tom Donnelly ran through the front door where the men who had remained outside repeatedly stabbed him in the back with a pitchfork and clubbed him over the head. Then they dragged him back into the house and laid him down over the hatchway to the root cellar. Johannah was beaten in the kitchen. Even their small dog was clubbed and beheaded. A group of men went in search of Bridget who had hidden in the loft. They returned a few minutes later with her dead body.

Tom groaned and his scalp was laid open with a shovel.

For the finale, they splashed coal oil over the beds and on the floor, set the place on fire and fled up the Roman Line in search of William Donnelly who lived at Whalen’s Corners, a distance of nearly three miles. Johnny O’Connor waited no longer and fled through the back door. He remembered hearing Johannah groan but didn’t stop to help her. The house burned to the ground.

Robert Salts, author of You Are Never Alone, described what happened next. “Many of the men had done and seen enough and set off for home. The inner core of the group pushed on to Will’s house.

“Their plan was to go out into Will’s rented barn and beat up his stallion. When the horse made noises, the men figured that Will Donnelly would come out and they would club him to death. They beat and whipped the horse but no one came out.”

The vigilante group then surrounded Will’s house and Jim Ryder called out, “Fire, fire, open the door.”

Robert added, “In the house were four people. Martin Hogan, a friend of Will’s had stopped by. Martin was planning on threshing grain in the barn of Morkin, a neighbor, down the road the next day. As it was late Will told him to stay overnight, because he would wake everybody up in the Morkin household. John Donnelly was staying overnight to take the cutter and Will and his parents to that final court case in Granton. John and Martin shared the bed in the small room off Will’s bedroom.

Donnelly tombstone with birth and death dates, including those slain on February 4, 1880. Bridget Donnelly was just twenty-two years old.

“Norah Donnelly was expecting their second child in June and had retired early. When Will came to bed, he asked Norah to move over. She told Will he had to climb over her as she had her side of the bed warmed up. This probably helped save his life, for when the vigilantes pounded on the door, it was John who sprang out of bed. He went through Will’s room saying that someone was shouting that there was a fire. John lit a candle as someone called, ‘Is that you Will?’

“John responded, ‘Yes’ and opened the door.”

A nervous vigilante saw a figure at the door and opened fire; the shotgun blast blew more than thirty holes in John’s chest. Then a muzzle-loading rifle ball went through his lower abdomen. He was mortally wounded and died a short time later. The vigilantes, having shed enough blood for one night, left for their homes. It wasn’t until 4:00 p.m. the next day that the coroner arrived at James Donnelly’s home. After the ravages of the fire, only two small steps at the front of the cabin remained. It was then discovered that souvenir hunters had already helped themselves to artifacts and body parts. Bridget’s head was gone and so was the right arm. Johannah’s head had also disappeared. It was reported that when Robert Donnelly arrived the next day from St. Thomas, he kissed the burnt exposed liver of Tom and the blackened heart of his father.

A number of years ago a public school principal was researching the Donnelly story. He received a call from a man who claimed to have Bridget’s arm bone and offered to sell it for five hundred dollars!

James Carroll and five other men were charged with murder. They got off scot-free. This is hard to believe today. Even with eye witnesses such as Johnny O’Connor and Will Donnelly, they managed to beat the charge. Did they suffer shame or grief over their deeds? Did they ever come to terms with their crimes or did they take their shame to their graves?

In 1881 Patrick, Will, and Robert Donnelly built another house on the Donnelly property next to where the log cabin had once stood. In fact, part of this new home stood on the former site of the original shanty built by their father. William planted five chestnut trees for the five family members that perished around the site of the log cabin. Two chestnut trees are still there today. In 1939 the property was sold to non-family members.

In 1988 Linda and Robert Salts and their son Charles decided to leave London, Ontario, and move to the country. On Mother’s Day they travelled to the countryside and looked at a homestead in Biddulph Township. The house, drive shed, and barn were situated on 6.19 acres that had originally been part of a 100-acred parcel. As they toured the place they noticed six large fieldstone rocks laid out to form a square, just to the north side of the homestead. They later learned that this was the site of the massacre.

Linda knew that they would live there. The district was not new to her. She had grown up two concession roads to the west. They bought the Donnelly homestead and moved there in August 1988.

A few months later Linda began to suffer from depression. It happened every time she worked in the kitchen. The Salts phoned Father Smith of the Catholic Church. They wanted the father to perform an exorcism. They could both feel an unwanted spirit in the kitchen area. A Donnelly perhaps?

The priest was not keen on doing an exorcism, but he agreed to bless the house and provide the last rites for whatever was in this area. It is significant that the Salts’ religious background was Protestant, but that they felt strongly that the entity or entities in the house were followers of Catholicism.

While Father Smith performed the last rites, Robert was overwhelmed with a sense of sadness and grief. Over the next several weeks Linda experienced a relief from emotional heaviness.

Robert and Linda have experienced numerous incidences of unexplained activity in their home. Robert awakens often in the middle of the night to hear faint footsteps on the stairs. During their first year Linda and Robert were sometimes startled in the night by a crashing sound. Their first thought was ice sliding off the main roof onto their bedroom roof but when it happened during the summer months they knew that ice was not the problem. They found it unusual that there were no reverberations that accompanied the sound.

In April 1994 Robert’s father passed away. Robert was given some china that had been in his family. He and Linda washed and sorted the cups and saucers to place them in a cabinet. Robert explained what happened, “We were interrupted by a telephone call and when we returned to the task of the dishes, we discovered one particular saucer had been placed in the cabinet and the glass door left open.”

In the middle of August 1995, Robert not only heard footsteps, but heard his name called three times. “The voice was a soft but firm masculine tone. The time was 1:29 a.m. on the clock radio; I did not respond nor get up to investigate as I knew there would be no one there.” One Sunday around noon, Robert was having a shower. He glimpsed the shadow of a person on the shower curtain — it came into the bathroom through the open door and then went back out. Robert immediately turned off the water, grabbed a towel and walked to the living room. Once there he asked Linda and his son Charlie if either of them had just come into the bathroom. The answer was no. Robert and his son tried to re-create the shadow on the curtain but to no avail. No matter how they adjusted the bathroom light, they were unable to make the same moving shadow.

The same day, when Linda was just outside the laundry room window and Robert was on the other side of the house, Linda heard a muffled sentence that ended with several clear words. She said it sounded like, “Is anybody home?” or “Don’t you know this is my home?”

Contemporary sign outside Robert and Linda Salt’s house, the Donnelly homestead.

At times Robert has been home alone in the living room and heard something. “I hear someone walk onto the deck, open the door at the far end of the house and step in. When I go to investigate, I find no one there! Linda told me one day that it has happened to her on more than one occasion.”

Their German shepherd refuses to go upstairs to the second floor or down to the basement. A small thing, maybe, but dogs and cats are very sensitive to spirits.

One day Linda discovered that the laundry basket had been moved from under the clothesline to a spot across the laneway — a distance of about six metres (20 feet). The basket was upright and a dozen or so clothespins were still at the bottom of the basket. There was two inches of snow at the time and yet there were no footprints.

The Salts have a tremendous sense of history. They have opened their home and property to the public and even provide tours if they are booked in advance.

The barn as it looks today. Built in 1877, the cement foundation was added by Robert Donnelly in 1906.

Robert is a very good tour guide. He loves his subject matter — the Donnellys. When he toured me around the homestead I listened intently to him. He walked me over the murder site and described what happened that fateful night and he showed me where the bodies were found. His storytelling brought the Donnelly family back to life and for a moment I was there and so were they.

Not surprisingly, visitors encounter spirits on the property. Robert described what happens, “Many times when a group is waiting for their tour, I am told that they have an odd feeling that someone is watching from the barn. The barn was built in 1877. This feeling of being observed can occur anytime and anywhere on the property. It can suddenly come over you and you find yourself looking around, expecting to see a pair of eyes staring in your direction.”

At one time Linda and Robert allowed people to sleep in the barn — people who were hoping to have a ghostly experience. “One man and his wife told me the next day that around 1:30 a.m. they heard footsteps coming toward them in the straw and he felt pressure on his chest.”

In the spring of 1996, two grade 13 students complained of that same feeling of great pressure on their chests. One of the girls said she heard screaming in her head for a few moments while in the barn.

Sometimes people ask, “Who is the man who stuck his head out of the barn door to see who is in the laneway?” Robert’s usual response is, “The man is a ghost of someone who lived here. The tourist then usually asks if I’m kidding and I explain that I’m not.”

One time they heard the sound of a handsaw. Robert explained, “Linda was taking bags of groceries out of the car next to the driveshed and as she walked by the doors she distinctly heard the sound of a handsaw coming from within. At first, she thought I was home working in the shop, in the drive shed. She soon realized that the doors were locked and I was not at home!”

According to Robert, “There have been times when film crews have arrived with expensive and elaborate video cameras and within a few minutes of taping, the battery pack has lost its power and the videographer is at a loss to explain the drain in voltage. This has occurred several times on the Donnelly homestead and is not just a coincidence. The technician often exclaims that he just put in a freshly-charged battery. It has been necessary to run an extension cord out from the house to keep the camera rolling.”

Robert described what happened once to a family that decided to tour the barn on the property. “While at the barn at the end of a tour, a father and mother and myself stepped out onto the gangway and I told them to check the reaction as I slammed the barn door shut while their 15-year-old daughter and her best friend were on the inside taking pictures. In an instant the door flew open and out rushed the two girls. The daughter was stunned to find her father on the outside for she believed he had pushed her out ahead of him. Her eyes grew wider as we all assured her that her father had not been behind her. The girl became very agitated and frightened and wanted to know who had pushed her out the door. There were four distinct marks on her arm as if someone had gripped her firmly above the elbow. I had no idea my attempt at startling the teens would have such dramatic results. The young girl was truly scared and cried and clung to her mother all the way back to the car.”

The Catholic Church on the Roman Line where the Donnellys are buried.

Roberts continued, “On a number of occasions when tourists have entered the barn, someone will ask while looking up, ‘who hanged himself here on one of those beams?’”

During one tour a participant saw something. Robert described what happened, “While seated at the site of the massacre, a gentleman distracted me during the presentation by staring at some object behind me over near our garden by the barn.

“‘Who is that man over there through the trees?’ he questioned.

“We looked in the direction he was pointing but saw no one.

“Where did you see him and what does he looked like,” Robert asked.

Everyone wanted to know who this stranger was.

“The tourist in the group was adamant he had seen a man’s face in the bushes next to the garden,” stated Robert.

“‘I distinctly saw a man looking at me through the foilage over there,’ blurted the tourist. ‘There was just the face, I didn’t see a body.’”

According to Robert, “We all looked again at where he was pointing but to no avail. The face was gone. An eerie feeling came over all of us as we silently looked at one another for a moment. I continued with the storytelling but the feeling lingered for a short while.”

When a tour is over it is not unusual for people to tell Robert that something touched them when no one was standing near them. One tourist, a man named Bill Burns, actually sent Terry Boyle a letter a few years describing just that.

“My wife and I have long enjoyed your ‘Discover Ontario’ radio program and yesterday we bought your first book, Haunted Ontario. To be perfectly frank, I’m a bit of a skeptic when it comes to the paranormal but the index entry of six pages on the Donnellys caught my attention. I have had a 30-year fascination with the Donnelly story during which time I had many talks with Ray Fazakas, the author of The Donnelly Album, and corresponded for a while with Nora Lord who was William Donnelly’s daughter and who died in Sudbury on September 22, 1975, at age 88.

“In June 1997 we paid a visit to Rob and Linda Salts’ place on the Roman Line. We did the tour of the property, something I had wanted to do for years but the previous owner was hostile to the idea of visits from strangers and kept the property posted.

“Rob, who claims to be a psychic, certainly has no doubts about the presence of spirits in his home and barn. And something happened while we were there to shake my skepticism, at least somewhat.

“You relate that people touring the site often mention that something touched them on the shoulder while no one was standing near them. I had a similar experience. While Rob was leading us from the house to the murder scene, I felt something brush across the top of my head. My first thought was that a flying insect, a very large flying insect, had gotten into my hair. I patted the top of my head very gingerly so as to dislodge it without getting stung, but there was nothing there. Then the same thing happened again. This time I ran the fingers of both hands through my hair but came up with nothing. I didn’t mention this to anyone at the time but a week or two later I wrote to Rob telling him about it.”

In fall 2001 Robert described an unusual event that happened in the house. “Our son Charlie, then a teenager in high school, was preparing to go up to bed. He bade his mother and I goodnight and opened the door to ascend the stairs. With the door partly ajar, the sound of music could be faintly heard in the air. I quickly asked Charlie if his computer or stereo was on but he shook his head. The melody stopped suddenly. The music was not modern but was typical of a much earlier time. The sounds seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere in particular. Charlie and I looked at each other in astonishment. His mother in the next room should have been able to hear the music but denied hearing anything.”

In May 2007 I returned to the Donnelly homestead to meet Robert and Linda again. It was great to see them and exchange greetings. I was curious to find out if the public were still drawn to the Donnelly story and to this property. Robert shared this, “There is not a day that goes by without people driving by and stopping in front of the house. People are so curious. I have a chain across the driveway when we’re closed and people still climb over the chain and knock on our door.”

According to Robert, “People come from all over the world. We have even had visitors from as far away as Japan.”

The Salts still require their privacy and ask everyone to phone ahead to book a tour. According to Linda their busiest time is during the months of July and August.

Robert and I strolled the property as I took some new pictures. We ended up at the barn. Robert reminded me about the number of visitors that had sensed or physically experienced the spirit activity in this area. He added, “We had this young man who walked into the barn and then became quite ill. He fled the structure and was sick to his stomach outside.” Obviously his system was unable to handle the energy that is ever-present here.

The Donnelly story continues to haunt many of us. Perhaps it is because we really don’t understand that time in history. Was it really so violent, so lawless? It seems that it was. The Donnellys were representative of the unruliness of the times and the community may have needed scapegoats, outlets for their anger. The Donnellys became a target.

Perhaps the Donnellys were not finished with life or perhaps they still need revenge or is it justice they require? They certainly haven’t left the Roman Line. The places themselves, both the town of Lucan and the Roman Line, are haunted by the entire history of the place. Nothing lets the story die and so it lives, on and on — there’s more than one way to haunt a place, it seems.