![]() ![]() The children would roast apples in the fireplaces and generally made a nuisance of themselves.” She would have a wheelbarrow of fruit wheeled in each day for the neighborhood kids. While the house was being built, the family lived in the Edgewater Hotel, which once stood near here. ![]() “Untimely death can do that,” she interjected. The Fergusons had the plans drawn up together, but his untimely death interrupted the actual construction for a bit.” “It was often said that all the neighborhood children had a home here in the castle,” I continued, “if not all the children of Huntington village itself. ![]() Ferguson needed instead was to see people happy, particular the children,” I went on. The Monastery, Huntington Bay, Suffolk County, Long Island, New York Ferguson and her crowd didn’t believe that excess of alcohol and debauchery were necessary for a good time.” Steps to Ferguson’s Castle, a.k.a. “In fact,” I continued, “the bedrooms, of which there were many, were sparse, square like a monk’s cell and each had a cross carved onto the bed. “Thank God my mother never came up with that idea,” Miss Bronwen replied. “In fact she had a chapel built on a separate floor, apart from the rest of the house, and a priest came each day to say mass for the family and staff.” “Just a good Catholic actually,” I responded. “Well that’s certainly fertility of a Mormonic scale,” she commented. “Just how many children did she have?” she asked. “Juliana’s womb started spewing out babies shortly after their wedding, it appears, so they neededĪ place with some room,” I told Miss Bronwen as we slid around the curve and the massive foundation wall of the castle rose before us. Farquhar Ferguson, she set out to build her own on the shores of Huntington’s harbor. Armour loved Europe, particularly the monasteries she saw throughout France and Italy. Ogden Armour, the originator of Armour hot dogs, a.k.a. Juliana Armour Ferguson built her house like a medieval castle, with heavy walls some three feet thick, and details straight from the Mediterranean. At any rate, we bundled up and set off walking down the road, a short, slippery little jaunt to the remains of Ferguson Castle. Perhaps I would be ticketed here as well, and her look said as much, but I thought the odds were less than the management of the yacht club calling a towing service on me. I sat there for a moment, ruminating, remembered she’s smarter than I am, then put the car back in reverse and pulled back out onto the street, finding a spot to pull over onto the side. Probably at least in part because it was my car after all, and if I got ticketed or towed, I would be the one paying. “It’s Sunday, there’s snow on the ground and no one is around but the hired help,” I replied. Not to mention it’s a Beetle,” she pointed out. “Your car only has two hubcaps and your front license plate is held on by picture wire. “But I figure that no one will notice if we’re just parked here for a bit.” True to form, as I pulled into the parking lot of the yacht club, her eyebrow arched. So we were driving along Harbor Road in Huntington Harbor, and Miss Bronwen was eyeing me suspiciously. The steps to Ferguson’s Castle on Long Island’s Gold Coast ![]()
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