I’m starting to use ChatGPT a lot now. For example, yesterday I had nothing on my calendar so I asked Chat to suggest three local adventures for me and my husband within 30 minutes of my house. One of the suggestions I had never been to (or even heard of): The Bancroft Castle. Intriguing! It looked like a little bit of Ireland in the next town over.

As we were about to leave, my husband was being grumpy (it was about 45 degrees and windy), so I ditched him and went alone.

Here’s the story: In 1906, after a long career as a soldier, politician, and businessman, General William Bancroft began building his lavish retirement home on a scenic hill in his old hometown (as Harvard Men do). He even had a pretentious name in mind: Shawfieldmont. But Bancroft’s dream project only got so far, when he ran out of money. He kept the property for 12 years, but then sold it to Harold Ayres, a physician who converted the structure into a “sanatorium.” Through the 1920s, patients in the area suffering from ailments like tuberculosis (who could afford to pay $20 a week) reaped the benefits of the fresh air and treatments offered by the Groton Private Hospital, as Ayres named his facility. 

When the hospital closed down toward the end of the decade, the space segued from sanatorium to social center, where dances and other events were held by the Groton Hunt Club. The fox hunting-related festivities came to end when parts of the structure burned down after a firecracker accident on the Fourth of July, 1932. (Oops, but at least the foxes could rest easier.)

Kind of creepy, right? And I was the ONLY person up there! But I was brave and went in.

I headed up to top of Gibbet Hill from the castle (despite heavy winds) and the view was pretty spectacular.

Thanks Chat. That was interesting.