Dudleytown Connecticut: The Cursed Ghost Town and Other Haunted Abandoned Places in CT

When people think of Connecticut, images of Ivy League campuses, charming coastal towns, and affluent suburbs often come to mind. But beneath that polished exterior lies a darker side—a state riddled with abandoned places that whisper tales of tragedy, curses, and unexplained phenomena. At the heart of this eerie landscape is Dudleytown, a supposed cursed ghost town in Cornwall that has captivated paranormal enthusiasts for decades. Known for its alleged dark history of madness, suicide, and demonic activity, Dudleytown has become synonymous with New England hauntings, drawing comparisons to Salem’s witch trials or Amityville’s horrors. But Dudleytown isn’t alone; Connecticut is dotted with other supposed ghost towns and abandoned sites like Bara-Hack in Pomfret, Johnsonville in East Haddam, Gay City in Hebron, Little People’s Village in Middlefield, Pleasure Beach in Bridgeport, and Holy Land USA in Waterbury. These locations blend real historical decay with layers of urban legend, making them magnets for ghost hunters, hikers, and history buffs. In this deep dive, we’ll explore Dudleytown’s chilling curse, debunk some myths, and venture into Connecticut’s other haunted abandoned places—perfect for anyone searching for “cursed ghost towns in CT” or “haunted abandoned places near me.” Whether you’re a skeptic or a believer, these stories reveal how the Nutmeg State’s forgotten corners still echo with the past.

Let’s start with Dudleytown, the crown jewel of Connecticut’s cursed lore. Nestled in the Litchfield Hills of Cornwall, about 90 minutes from Hartford and a world away from the bustling I-95 corridor, Dudleytown (also called Dark Entry Forest) was founded in the mid-1700s by the Dudley family, English settlers who cleared land for farming amid the dense, rocky woods. The town never grew large—peaking at perhaps 100 residents with a few homes, a school, and mills powered by the Dark Entry Brook. By the early 1800s, soil depletion, economic shifts, and the lure of better farmland west led to its abandonment. By 1900, it was empty, the buildings reclaimed by nature, leaving only cellar holes, stone walls, and overgrown paths.The curse legend exploded in the 20th century, fueled by books like Ed and Lorraine Warren’s The Haunted and local folklore. It claims the Dudleys carried a family curse from England: Edmund Dudley, beheaded in 1510 for treason under Henry VIII, supposedly cursed his descendants with madness and death. His son John Dudley was executed in 1553; grandson Robert Dudley (Earl of Leicester) died mysteriously in 1588. In Connecticut, the curse allegedly continued: Abijah Dudley died in 1792 from smallpox, his wife went mad and wandered the woods; William Dudley was struck by lightning in 1804; Horace Dudley committed suicide in 1800 after business failures; General Herman Swift’s wife Sarah Faye died in 1804, driving him insane. The town saw crop failures, animal mutilations, demonic sightings, and residents fleeing in terror.

By the 1920s, Dr. William Clarke bought the land for a summer retreat, renaming it Dark Entry Forest, but even he reportedly experienced strange events, like shadows moving in empty rooms and screams from the woods. Paranormal claims abound: visitors report overwhelming dread, nausea, cold spots, shadow figures, EVPs whispering “leave,” and physical attacks like scratches or pushes. The Warrens called it demonically infested, linking it to ley lines and Native American burial grounds. But skeptics debunk it hard. Historical records show no unusual death rate—smallpox epidemics were common, lightning strikes happen in storms, suicides occurred but not disproportionately. The “curse” seems invented in the 1930s by Clarke’s wife to deter trespassers. No Dudley family link to the English nobles exists; the name is common.

Today, the area is private property owned by the Dark Entry Forest Association, closed to the public with “No Trespassing” signs and patrols—visitors risk fines or arrest, which only adds to the forbidden allure.But Dudleytown isn’t Connecticut’s only haunted ghost town. Let’s explore Bara-Hack in Pomfret, a true abandoned settlement from the 1790s. Founded by Obadiah Higginbotham and Nathaniel Sessions as a Welsh immigrant community (Bara-Hack means “breaking bread” in Welsh), it thrived with mills, a cider press, and a population of about 50. By the Civil War, it emptied due to industrialization drawing people to cities. Today, it’s ruins: cellar holes, stone foundations, an overgrown cemetery with graves from 1790–1850. Legends say it’s haunted by the ghosts of mill workers and slaves (though unverified), with reports of baby cries, laughter from empty fields, shadowy figures, and “ghost lights” bobbing through the trees.

Paranormal groups like TAPS have investigated, capturing EVPs of names and phrases. It’s open for respectful hikes, but night visits are discouraged—locals report cars stalling or electronics failing. Bara-Hack’s Welsh roots tie into Northeast immigrant lore, similar to Pennsylvania’s coal ghost towns.Next, Johnsonville Village in East Haddam, a picture-perfect Victorian ghost town that looks like a movie set. Founded in 1802 as a mill town by the Johnson family, it boomed with twine production until a 1887 fire and economic decline shut it down. In the 1960s, millionaire Ray Schmitt bought it as a tourist attraction, adding Victorian buildings, a steamboat, and a livery stable. After Schmitt’s 1998 death, it sat abandoned, drawing urbexers who reported ghostly mill workers, apparitions in the chapel, and the sound of horse hooves on cobblestones. In 2017, it sold for $1.9 million to a church group, then flipped to developers in 2023 for luxury homes—but construction stalled amid “curse” rumors and unexplained accidents. It’s private now, but drone footage shows decaying gingerbread houses that scream haunted.

Johnsonville echoes Connecticut’s mill town ghosts, like the abandoned Remington Arms factory in Bridgeport with its WWII worker spirits. Gay City State Park in Hebron hides another ghost town ruin. Founded in 1796 by Elijah Andrus as a religious community inspired by John Gay, it grew to 25 families with mills and a distillery. Internal strife, a 1800 murder of blacksmith Charley Smith by Benjamin Barber over a debt, and economic failure led to abandonment by 1830. Today, the park has trails through cellar holes, a cemetery with weathered stones, and the murder site marked by a boulder. Hauntings include Smith’s ghost wandering the paths, cries near the mill pond, shadow figures in the ruins, and cold spots that follow hikers. BFRO reports Bigfoot sightings here too, blending cryptid and ghost lore. Gay City’s religious roots mirror Northeast’s Puritan ghosts, like Dudley Town’s curse or Rhode Island’s vampire panics.Little People’s Village in Middlefield is a quirky, eerie miniature ghost town. Built in the 1910s by William Everett as a roadside attraction with tiny houses, a throne room, and winding paths for “little people” (fairies or gnomes in legend), it fell into disrepair after Everett’s 1945 death. Legends say his wife heard voices commanding her to build it, driving her mad, or that it’s cursed by trolls who shrink visitors. Explorers report whispers, giggling, shadows in the dollhouses, and a feeling of being watched. It’s on private property now, but urbex photos show overgrown ruins that feel like a fairy tale gone wrong.

It ties into CT’s “weird roadside” haunts, like the abandoned Holy Land USA in Waterbury—a 18-acre biblical theme park built in 1955 by John Greco, with replicas of Bethlehem and Jerusalem. Abandoned in 1984, it’s seen murders (a 2010 teen killing), vandalism, and reports of robed figures walking at night, crosses glowing, angelic voices. Sold in 2013, it’s partially restored but still eerie. Pleasure Beach in Bridgeport is an abandoned amusement park ghost town. Opened in 1892 as a resort, it had a theater, ballroom, and boardwalk. Fires and storms destroyed it by the 1960s, and a 1996 bridge fire cut access, leaving it isolated. Reopened for nature walks in 2014, visitors report carousel music on windless days, laughter from empty ruins, ghostly dancers in the ballroom. It’s CT’s Coney Island ghost, blending nostalgia and dread.These sites share themes: economic boom and bust, isolation breeding legends, a mix of history and supernatural. They draw ghost hunters with EMF meters and spirit boxes, but remember: many are private or restricted—trespass at your own risk.

Mike D. is the host of Northeast Legends and Stories and has explored more cursed CT spots than he cares to admit.