In the late 1700s, a ramshackle cottage stood across from this point at the southern end of the grove of trees across the canal, home to a widow named Ailsey Evans. She eked out a living by planting a garden in the poor soil of Janes Island, collecting oysters and soft-shelled clams from the shoreline, raising a pig to slaughter each fall, and using corn she grew herself to bait traps for the ducks and geese that were plentiful in the area. Despite the generosity of family and neighbors, she lived a meager existence in a house that was nearly falling down and did all her cooking in a large fireplace. One day, while preparing a meal, a spark landed on her threadbare apron and ignited it. Panicking, Ailsey rushed outside into the dry grass, which burst into flame. More than 250 years later, some people still claim to have seen a light flare up in the trees there, glow brightly, and go out, and they wonder whether it is the ghost of Ailsey Evans.