The Ghost of Richard Twelves

 

A view of Kensington from 1916

Today, the Philadelphia neighborhood of Kensington is a popular place for hipsters to indulge in their favorite microbrew, or for young urban professionals-- once known as "yuppies"-- to take advantage of the neighborhood's low housing costs. But over two centuries ago, this region, which now divides North Philadelphia from the Lower Northeast, was the site of sprawling estates owned by wealthy English merchants-- some of whom earned their fortunes operating sugar plantations in Barbados (which may explain how a mysterious island in the Schuylkill River came to be known as Barbadoes Island).

Among these English merchants was Richard W. Twelves, who owned 250 acres of land in present-day Kensington. His majestic mansion once stood near the corner of Richmond and Venango streets, near the spot currently occupied by a charming bar and grill called The Crazy Leprechaun (if you're in the area, be sure to check out their all-you-can-eat Alaskan crab legs). Richard Twelves, known to locals as "Dickie", passed away in 1849 at a ripe old age, but when he died, he died with a chilling message on his lips.

It was the summer of 1899 when James Bander, a farmhand employed by Ferdinand Wiederner, became so frightened that he quit his job. With the old Twelves Mansion long-deserted, the farmer had taken to using the dilapidated manor house as a storehouse. Bander, who had been sleeping in the abandoned mansion, woke up in a cold sweat shortly after midnight when he was awakened by a peculiar sound, like the clanging of a sword hitting the ground. This was followed by the sound of footsteps on a ladder, and the appearance of a frightening apparition.

 

Bander recalled that the phantom figure was that of a very old man dressed in "old-fashioned" clothes (which, to Bander, may have reflected the fashion of the 1840s). The apparition spoke in an excited tone, referring to the impending visit of a European count. Just as quickly as it had appeared, the ghostly image vanished-- with one chilling exclamation on its lips. "The devil has me by the throat!" the phantom screamed before fading away.

Before Dickie Twelves' death, his estate was managed by a fellow named Captain Noah Phillips, who resided at 4735 Garden Street at the time of the farmhand's terrifying encounter. After hearing Bander's story, Phillips was certain that the farmhand had encountered the ghost of his former employer. 

"Twelves entertained a great deal in his day," stated Captain Phillips to the Philadelphia Times, "and there was a Count Andros whom he had at his stable house in 1847." Captain Phillips remembered that he had heard Twelves exclaim "the devil has me by the throat!" on his deathbed. Phillips also said that he had heard from others who claimed that the old Twelves Mansion was haunted.

Sergeant Bergin, of the 24th District, agreed with Phillips. He, too, had heard from many people claiming to have seen and heard strange things in and around the old mansion. 

But who was this mysterious Count Andros to whom the ghost of Dickie Twelves so excitedly referred? And did his visit have anything to do with Twelves' strange cry about the devil "seizing him by the throat" and the inexplicable clanging of a sword?

Did Count Andrassy visit Kensington in 1847?

 

The only reference to a European count by the name of Andros that I could find is a reference from 1871 (more than twenty years after Twelves' death), describing a diplomatic summit at Gastien between Austrian statesman Friedrich Ferdinand von Beust, which states that a "Count Andros" also attended the convention. This was most certainly a reference to the Hungarian prime minister, Count Andrássy, who was known to be in attendance. At the time of Twelves' death, however, Andrássy was a 26-year-old radical, who later fled to London and became a military leader in Hungary's fight against Croatia. It's unclear whether or not Andrássy ever visited Philadelphia, but considering Andrássy's urgent need to raise funds for his cause, visiting wealthy merchants in America wouldn't have been out of the question.

By the end of the 19th century, the city began to repave the streets of Kensington, and passed ordinances to "clean up" the area around Venango and Richmond streets, which, by this time, had become a popular dumping ground for trash. In the following decades, Kensington grew into a working-class neighborhood dotted with textile mills and populated by factory workers. Although it is unclear, it's likely that the old haunted mansion was torn down around this time, and the ghost of Dickie Twelves was seen no more.