The Keg Mansion in Toronto, once known as Euclid Hall, is a storied landmark with roots dating to 1867. It was commissioned by Arthur McMaster, a nephew of the founder of McMaster University, and soon passed to Hart Massey. Hart Massey’s daughter renamed the estate Euclid Hall, and for decades the house stood as a stage for Toronto’s elite, its grand Victorian architecture linking a growing city to a privileged past. According to Toronto History Museums, the house preserved its elegance even as ownership changed and its role in the urban scene shifted.
In 1915 Euclid Hall entered a new chapter after being entrusted to the University of Toronto’s Victoria College. It served as a radio station, an art gallery, and a restaurant. Through the first half of the 20th century the building functioned as a cultural hub even as development moved the city toward education and heritage preservation. The transfer to the Keg restaurant chain in 1976 is documented by the University of Toronto archives, which note the property’s conversion into a distinctive dining space now known as the Keg Mansion.
Today many of Toronto’s grand houses have become apartments or offices, but the Keg Mansion endures as a vivid reminder of how Toronto’s wealthiest families once lived. Reports about the property include claims that it harbors resident ghosts and spirits. Most accounts describe friendly presences rather than hostile ones, a detail that adds to the building’s aura of refined history.
One enduring legend centers on Lillian Massey’s maid, said to have taken her own life after Lillian’s death. The story points to heavy emotions during a period of loss, with some versions nudging toward a secret romance in the Massey household and fear of public scandal. Eyewitness accounts describe a lingering image associated with the tragedy that some visitors claim to glimpse on entering the mansion, a tale shared by many who visit after dusk.
Another reported presence is said to dwell in the second floor women’s washroom. The ghost has not appeared in person, but several guests report practical jokes that imply mischief rather than menace. Women who enter the area describe a general sense of unease and moments when stall doors unlock themselves even with no one else in the room, as if an unseen watcher lingers in the shadows. One guest recalls hanging a bag with a bottle of wine on a hook, only to see it unhooked and gently placed at her feet.
On the second floor, once the children’s quarters, visitors have reported the soft patter of little feet and even glimpsed a young boy playing on the stairs who stops to watch the diners below. The echoes of playful footsteps mingle with the clatter of dishes, giving the place a human warmth that sits beside its historic grandeur.
Occasional gentle touches or light grazes have been described by diners, contributing to the sense that more spirits linger beyond the obvious sightings. Some guests say the shy resident ghosts prefer intimate moments and reveal themselves to the most attentive visitors.
Check back tomorrow for the next installment of the Spookiest Places Countdown. This ongoing series across Canada and beyond blends history with atmosphere for curious travelers seeking experiences beyond the ordinary.