Canada’s creepy castle

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 26/10/2024 (444 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

Entering Toronto’s looming Gothic castle, I asked, “Is it true you have ghosts? Posts say a spook named Mr. Happy pulls your hair in a tunnel.”

The guide replied “We don’t acknowledge Mr. Happy.” Walking away I heard, “Expect a little girl.”

Destination Canada proclaims Casa Loma as North America’s only full-size castle. Meaning “hill house” in Spanish, Casa Loma was built between 1911 and 1914 as Canada’s biggest residence with 98 rooms, 25 fireplaces, and 30 bathrooms. One boasts a six-spout shower. Other excesses include warming pipes for planters and cooling pipes for a 1,500-bottle wine cellar discovered in 2014 behind drywall — albeit dry behind the wall.

Artisans built this folly for entrepreneur Henry Pellatt and his wife Mary. Pellatt helped harness Niagara Falls’ power to electrify Toronto. But he was a big show-off and a finagling financial failure. He sought credit for everything.

Casa Loma’s construction costs soared. Annual upkeep included wages for 40 staff, plus $12,000 in municipal taxes. But after banking on Toronto taxpayers, Pellatt wouldn’t join their ranks as one. With debts mounting, Henry and Mary abandoned Casa Loma within a decade.

It became a hotel, then a tourist destination and event centre. Liberty Entertainment currently operates this city-owned absurdity — with a statue of a scary green monster and garden gnomes on the grounds. Casa Gnoma.

Guides filled me in on the silly questions they endure: “Does Canada’s King live here?” “Where’s your room?” “Are the audio-guide’s numbered sites in alphabetical order?” And my question: “Is it true you have ghosts?”

The British firm that handled the woodwork for the Titanic fashioned Casa Loma’s Oak Room, now a posh restaurant.

I glanced at BlueBlood Steakhouse’s menu and exclaimed to Margie, “A baked potato costs $20!” She replied, “For that, at home you could have six dozen russets.” “But I could only eat a half-dozen at once,” I quipped.

The Oak Room features a grand portrait of Queen Elizabeth — holding a spray-paint can. Another portrait depicts one Prince — the musician. It’s called Purple Reign. Staff quipped, “Pellatt’s favourite horse was called Prince, so we tell folks we ordered a portrait of Prince and things got mixed up.”

Casa Loma’s Study conceals two secret doors to stairways. Margie vanished. I didn’t see her for days. She wishes. And I read about a secret cubbyhole in Henry’s bedroom. I searched. I asked for clues. Senior guide, Rick, hinted, “Four feet left of the lion’s nose.” Seeing a carved lion above the fireplace, I pried under a vertical wood panel. It swung open! I told Margie, “Call me Sherlock.” Margie said, “Maybe Scooby Doo.”

I exclaimed to boys entering the room, “A secret compartment!” One said, “Wow — for swords!” Another yelped, “For guns!” Considering Pellatt’s creditors, maybe. Pellatt guns.

Margie urged, “You squeeze inside. I’ll close it up for the night, and see what happens.” I replied, “My entry fee was just for today.”

Casa Loma’s stunning design, woodwork and glasswork star in about 100 movies, notably X-Men and Chicago. Acclaimed among my pals, 1983’s comedy flick Strange Brew with Bob and Doug McKenzie featured Casa Loma as Elsinore Castle. I had suggested to Margie that, like Bob and Doug, I return a beer bottle containing a mouse — to get a reaction and maybe free beer. After she nixed that, I regaled longtime staff members with my plan. They dismissed the gag as nothing new, although not seen in a quarter-century. Ouch.

When Margie visited here on a childhood school trip, a boy shook an armoured knight’s hand and it fell off. The hand is now a black glove. Yes, Monty Python fans, ’twas but a scratch.

We discovered the Queen’s Own Rifles Museum. Then, under a sign on a beam I wish I had spotted earlier saying “Please mind your head,” we climbed winding staircases to the Norman and Scottish towers. Masses of spongey, creeping vines hang for spooky escape-room games, accompanied by a guide to “Dragon runes and incantations.”

Graffiti includes “I was here,” “Dad” and “Help!” — maybe by Pellatt himself.

In the castle’s dank tunnel to the stables and hunting lodge, neither Mr. Happy nor the little girl materialized. Dang. Mind you, when Margie blurted “Boo!” from the shadows, she had to settle me with a kiss. When I leapt at her from the shadows, she calmly remarked, “Oh, there you are.”

A wax museum displays characters from movies filmed here, as well as Justin Trudeau on a bad hair day. Find a concert hall, vintage cars and mahogany stables. Discover how officials secretly conducted wartime sonar research. Watch a film about Pellatt.

The gift shop sells “University of Casa Loma” T-shirts, along with battle gear, dresses and tiaras to transform children into invincible knights and elegant princesses.

We walked up to Casa Loma again the next day. A young employee who stood silent when I earlier asked “Is it true you have ghosts?” whispered, “I didn’t tell you yesterday because my boss was here, but I saw a ghost in the Scottish Tower. A lady in a white gown. She looked right at me. I was six, but a co-worker just saw her too!”

Casa Loma is stranger today than when it was built. Dare to enter — Mr. Happy or not.

gordmackintosh9@gmail.com