USA > Massachusetts > Middlesex County > Concord > The history of Concord, Massachusetts > Part 10
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Nothing very progressive could under the circumstances be expected in these schools, either on the part of the teacher or the taught, for time, a very important factor with the settler, had an allotted limit with each scholar. So if perchance some exceptionally ambitious and precocious youth got so far in arithmetic as to "enter fractions," and in grammar as to "parse" in some old copy of "Paradise Lost" borrowed of the Parson, his ambition might suffer speedy curtailment, for just then might come planting, hoe- ing, haying, or harvesting, in which all the little folks could be serviceable, and so although the term went on, away hied one after another to their several homes, leaving the
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Dame with a loss of their sixpence a week, to await their return after an interval of weeks or months.
But notwithstanding the drudgery of the Dame school with its absence of attractive text books, and its dry meth- ods and its arbitrary rules, the children loved Dame Dean and would do almost anything for her. They respected her next to the minister and magistrate, and many were the little tokens of affectionate regard sometimes seen on her coarse desk in the corner, in the shape of sprigs of "south- ern wood", or "goose's tongue," or wild roses, or early fruits, so it may be said that the pupils of the Dame school, in what we will call district number two, to make matters more natural, though the district was never num- bered that we know of, were as good and contented as any could be who were similarly situated.
But children were human in those days as well as these, and it is no wonder if they sometimes got tired and as they sat of a long drawn afternoon watching the wasps buzzing on the ceiling, or craning their necks over the high window stools to get a look at the fresh, green earth, and as they thought of the sweet flags by the water courses, and the tender checker-bush by the pasture lane, and the straw- berries among the meadow rocks, it is no wonder that in their well wishes for themselves and their school mistress, there should come into their immature minds the innocent hope that as the dear old Dame had long sharpened their quills, so there might be somebody to sharpen quills for her.
And their little wishes were at length gratified. One day - it was a bright and cloudless one - when the tana- ger's wing flashed in the forest, and the frogs peeped loudly in the marsh stubble, and the dimpling waters of mill brook lapped lovingly the cowslip roots just below the Parson's sedge meadow, and looked up to the yellow blossoms as if impatient to become a part of them, some one rapped at the door, and upon its being opened there stood the famil- iar form of Farmer Fletcher, who lived just beyond that
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hollow in the highway yonder where those purple grackles are perched on the willow tops.
He was dressed in his best, having upon his head the "castor hat" which his father Jedediah left him in his last will and testament, and for his other attire, he had on a steel blue duffel coat and a white fustian waistcoat sitting low down on a pair of short and stinted pantaloons that just reached the tops of a pair of start ups, or high boots. The sleeves of his duffel coat were made short in order to display a pair of loose fitting "muffeteers" or "wristers" that extended well down to his sheepskin gloves.
Dame Dean went softly to the door and as she stood with her diminutive yet comely form facing the tall, stal- wart frame of Farmer Fletcher, the contrast between them was striking : but not more striking in their forms than in their dress, for, not having expected a caller, as none except the minister and the tithingmen were supposed to visit the Dame school, she was attired in her every day dress, which so far as the fashion of it went, might befit any wo- man of the middle classes who was dressed for the work or leisure of an afternoon, except that her garments were of a little finer fabric and finish perhaps, because she was a school mistress. Her hair was neatly ruffed upon each side and kept in position by a pin plucked from a thorn bush, while dangling delicately over her left ear was a thin, lone curl. The front hair was brushed straight back between the ruffs and queued behind against a high comb. She wore a sacque slightly decorated with faded "inkle," a kind of tape braid used in embroidery, both the fabric of the sacque and trimming showing that it had seen its best days before being worn in the school room. Beneath the sacque, and just disclosing itself through an unclasped hook and eye, was the edge of a "murry" colored waist, while thrown above these upper garments and resting tastefully upon them with a "set" that was without wrinkle or pucker, was a fringed "whittle" or Holland neck cloth. For lower garments there was an overskirt of "calimanco" which was
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caught up at the bottom to avoid the dust of the floor, and thus exposing an inch or two of a green linsey woolsey pet- ticoat with a sage gray binding.
It was indeed a heap of clothing of faded gay colors for such a little body, but it showed how well kept were the garments of the middle classes in those days, and how things passed down by will, or inheritance, or as heirlooms to be worn by successive generations, each in its turn hold- ing them in trust as it were, to be transferred to others if not worn out by themselves.
Farmer Fletcher smiled at the little school teacher as she appeared at the door, and bowed low with his whole body ; the bend being from his broad shoulders down to his well rounded calves, which were swathed in close fitting cloth socks, and just apparent between his breeches and start ups. The whole motion made by him described a half circle, and the hat which by this time he was holding in his hand almost touched the well sanded floor. The salute was responded to by the little school mistress in a manner as gentle as it was given, and the courtesy which she returned was such that her fragile form dropped gracefully and with- out a perceptible curve in her whole body, until it was only. about half as high as that of her gallant caller who now had recovered his wonted uprightness; and her clinging linsey woolsey petticoat with its sage colored binding com- pletely covered the dainty slippers, and coyly wrinkled on the coarse floor boards. Farmer Fletcher followed up the response by continuing to smile the sweet smile that was upon his countenance when he entered, and while all this was going on, the interested school children noted this practical observance of the "proprieties" which had often been taught them theoretically by their fond teacher, but which seldom had been illustrated by such a perfect object lesson, not even when on one occasion the minister met the tithingmen.
The school closed early that afternoon, much earlier than usual, and the scholars hardly knew why, and wondered,
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as with hop, skip, and jump they went through the nearer pasture bars into the lane to catch butterflies. Dorothea and Daniel repaired to a sunny bank by the woodside in the dingle you see in the distance, and there seating them- selves with all proper decorum engaged in conversation.
Farmer Fletcher inquired with considerable apparent solicitude, though with an air of partial absent-mindedness, after the Widow Fox, whose condition of late had been feeble and languishing, and whose case was "made mention of" in a "note put up" the last Sunday at the meeting house. They talked of the news from the sea-board, and the fresh arrivals in the Bay. Especially animated was their conversation about the startling rumor of a stranger who had recently come into town, who had rashly proposed that the town buy a carriage "to carry copses to the grave in." The more exciting topic, however, before the final one, was the notable discussion that was going on from the Blood farm to the Nine acres as to whether the minister was not too much of a "legal preacher," that is whether he was not dwelling unduly in his discourses, on the "cove- nant of works" to the disparagement of the "covenant of grace."
Whether or not this last subject was too dry, or whether Daniel felt that the afternoon was passing, and was appre- hensive that further delay might defeat the main object of his visit we cannot say, since the only sparks here available depose nothing ; but so it was, that as soon as he had shifted his position to get out of the sun, which in its low descent now shone full in his face, giving to it a worried look, Farmer Fletcher said, hesitatingly, "Dorothea, art thou not tired of the Dame school?" for he used a scrip- ture form of language, "and hast thou not taught long enough ? and wouldst thou not change if thou couldst ? for thou couldst if thou wouldst, and I have come to talk with thee about it, Dorothea." No matter of record has been made of Goody Dean's reply neither has tradition informed us about it, but from whatever facts are obtainable
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we infer that she informed him in substance, that since life with her had long been reduced to its lowest terms and she was wearied with whole numbers, if it would greatly add to his pleasures and much multiply his joys she was willing to divide with him her heart if he would share with her his home; for that she believed in so doing there would be nothing subtracted from their sum of happiness.
Just then a thrush sang in the brushwood, and an owl, which for the last half hour had haunted Farmer Fletcher by its dismal hooting, flew away, and the sun shone on the clouds above, giving them a rosy red hue, while a couple of song sparrows that had for a short time previous been chirping and twittering in the brushwood, flew out into the open and airily alighted on the spray of a hazel bush and sat swaying and singing, while Daniel and Dorothea looked and listened.
As the mists began together, and the grass was getting damp, Farmer Fletcher and Dame Dean arose and walked lovingly down the dewy pathway into the common highway and then and there arranged for the wedding, which, because of her position as a school mistress, they decided to have in the meeting house if it were allowed them. But we will get back to the highway and only say further about the Dame school, that it soon closed, and as the hus- band of Goody Dean's sister did not care longer to keep open house for the school children, since then as now, they trod on the grass, Dorothea had no successor there. The farm was finally sold piecemeal, and as the house was old, it went into disuse, decayed, and fell but that is the site of it.
BIRTHPLACE OF HENRY D. THOREAU.
CHAPTER XIV.
The Haunted House - Casting of the Yarn Ball- The "Witch Call" - Adventurous Search for an Apparition - Explanations Relative to Houses said to be Haunted.
N EAR that barberry bush stood a haunted house which was shunned by the children and even the rough wood choppers. There the yarn ball was cast as a ghost test, and Ike Bateman went for a witchcall, but he failed to obtain it because at the very moment of success, when the spun yarn refused further to unwind, he dropped it and fled as if forgetful of what he was there for. He said afterwards that he heard the "call," and although his testimony stood alone almost everybody believed it.
Let us, since Ike failed, suppose we make the test for ourselves, if so be, by a little eavesdropping or espionage, of such as hold in mortmain old estates, we may dis- cover the real sound and sentiment of the "witch call" and the color and shape of an old time apparition.
In order to do this, let us suppose we visited the spot for this purpose, when the house was standing, with a ball of woolen spun yarn in our hand, a sprig of witch hazel in our hat and a horseshoe saddled upon our forearm to keep any inhabitant of that once human dwelling place from coming too near. We did not go alone, we did not dare to, lest when the spun yarn caught we should scamper away as others had done, without waiting for the dreaded yet de- sired "witch call." So we went, myself and Simeon Buss, for Sim said, "He'd go ef I'd go," and that "he'd gone afore but was afraid to."
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We went at an hour which for our purpose was consid- ered a timely one, for it was the hour of twilight; a time when lovers get together, and the birds twitter and trill their sweet good nights, and the sprites commence their escapadings, and the late loiterer from the village grocery quickens his footsteps and furtively looks behind him to see if his own shadow is following him.
On approaching the house we involuntarily shrank back at beholding its dark outline on the wood's edge, and half wished we had not started. But we kept on, and espying near the doorway a low lilac shrub crept under it, and list- ened among its stunted sprouts to see if the coast was clear in which to operate. As no spirit was astir Sim fumbled for the spun yarn, and by a dexterous thrust passed it through a hole in the broken door, and began to pull the end he held in his hand.
Before doing this, however, he shoved the horseshoe higher up towards his shoulder blades. It was a good cast he had made, for the spun yarn was clear and it was not until the ball was half unwound that it ceased further to "pay out." As it stopped we were startled, for Sim said there was a jerk, and we felt as if communication had com- menced with another world. If the ball had stopped un- winding much sooner it ought not to have surprised us, for Sim had taken pains to make it sensitive by boiling it in a strong concoction of "witch broth," which was made of several ingredients, conspicuous among which were wild herbs gathered at midnight in a thunder storm, and at a time when the moon was on the wane, and the tide had turned ; besides these, was a small sprig of betony plucked at a grewsome spot known as the "Devil's wallow."
Here was a crisis, the moment had come when we could retreat as others had done, or remain and hear the "witch call." Having resolved upon the latter course, for that was what we had come for, we looked well to the horseshoe, and also cast away the witch hazel sprig, for we felt as if the spell was strong enough, and crouching lower among
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the lilac sprouts awaited the "call," hoping that if it was to come at all it would come soon, though rather hoping it would not come at all, and fully resolved in our cramped condition not to wait long.
But there was no delay, for while we listened there came a low sound, at first scarcely audible, and hardly to be dis- tinguished from the soft sighing of a gentle breeze, for the wind had arisen, and cold, grey clouds were scudding over the moon's disc. Soon the noise grew louder, with various quavers and modulations and at length broke with the expulsory force of a pistol shot; at the same instant two forms from a broken window casement dashed by us and disappeared in some currant bushes just beyond, the fruit of which, it was commonly said, the witches claimed, and were accustomed to pick of an evening after the moon was up; so that no one in the neighborhood dared touch it.
Moreover, it was stated that Sofy Smedley, and Cinthy Billings, she that was Goody Taylor before she married, belated in gathering "yarbs" in "medicine medder," as they were making their way homeward just at nightfall, saw two strangers picking the currants in their aprons.
Not knowing but that the witches would return, and in consideration of our cramped condition, we thought it might be wise not to stay longer among the lilac sprouts but to get out into the open and view things from a longer range; just then however matters adjusted themselves, for the objects crawled out into the moonlight and as they frisked and gambolled and were joined by two others we discovered that they were cats, and were convinced beyond peradventure that the sights, sounds and jerks on the spun
yarn were now fully explained. , Instantly our courage re- turned and we concluded to explore the premises. Crawl- ing from our hiding place we entered the house, started a fire, and finding a half burnt candle, we lighted it. In order that we might make the most of the sparks we went for fuel into the door-yard and gathered a few fragments of broken branches, which had fallen from a ghostly looking
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sycamore tree, believing that it had stood there ever since the house was built. Upon the hearth was a heap of crum- bled mortar and chimney dust and soot and a few fragments of old bricks which half covered the dog irons. As the flames crept up the chimney there fell upon the fire several swallows' nests which looked as ancient as the house, and the smoke set to twittering the inmates of new nests.
Taking the nearly spent candle we impaled it upon a pointed stick and started for the garret. The stairs creaked as we ascended, and when we reached the place which in ordinary times is studiously shunned by the small boy after nightfall, there whizzed by us through the shat- tered window a couple of owls with such a screech as might be considered a cry of vengeance on those who had molested
"Their ancient solitary reign."
There were no rats, for their was nothing for them to eat ; but hard up against the chimney and reclining upon it, in a way that on an exceptionally tempestuous night when the wind blew through the long windowless garret it might sway and tremble on the bricks with a distinctiveness that could be heard outside, was an old tin kitchen used for baking before a fireplace. Here also we saw at a glance was another of the would-be "witch calls" and the source of inexplicable sounds. Returning, we resolved to go into the outbuildings; one of which was an old carriage shed just opposite the room in which we had made a fire, and a few yards distant. Passing over the intervening space with some slight trepidation, we opened the door and passed in ; but instantly, we slammed it together again and started back more affrighted, if possible, than when we were in the lilac sprouts, for plainly before us in the back part of the building was a white form, motionless, yet distinct and up- right, and Sim averred, with one hand beckoning us.
In less time than it takes to tell it we fled into the pas- ture; but, as we glanced behind us to see how much we
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had the start of the ghost, we chanced to observe that although the door was shut, there was upon it the exact counterpart of what we had seen inside, and that it con- formed exactly to the tall, narrow window frame opposite the fireplace. As we stood wondering and reasoning, Sim and I, the figure grew fainter and fainter, and at last disap- peared. Not wishing to be too precipitate in our conclu- sions, since through our coolness we had succeeded so well before, we resolved to return to the house and make bold to investigate the cause which we strongly surmised. Cau- tiously retracing our steps, we saw that the firelight no longer shone through the window. We opened the shed door again - all was dark within. To make sure that our reasoning was correct we replenished the fire that had gone out on the hearth, and when the bright flame streamed up the chimney we went out, and there on the shed door was the same shaft of light, lacking the beckoning hand. Every- thing was now fully explained ; the light from the blazing hearth shining through the window, had, on opening the shed door, passed into a dense atmosphere that had long been confined there, and striking the boards on the back side of the building, had been reflected back to us with magical effect ; and a loosened clapboard dangling on the side of the window and gently swayed by the wind had caused the appearance to Sim's excited imagination of a beckoning hand.
After the satisfactory clearing up of the mystery we heaped fresh fuel upon the hearth, and shoving up before it a huge stick we sat down upon it. Sim took from his pocket the stub of a cob pipe and began to smoke, saying, "Strange I'd forgot to smoke afore," showing, to one who knew Sim Buss, his complete absorption in the night's adventures. It was near midnight. The moon, which for the last hour had struggled through gathering clouds and only at intervals shown itself, was now wholly hidden. The wind wailed through every knot hole and every now and then the cellar door opened in spite of all our efforts to
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keep it closed with a weaver's beam. Cheered however by the thought that we had done a good work and accom- plished what a couple of generations had not done in the solution of a neighborhood mystery, we were content to wait a while, if perchance the sparks, fanned by the gusty blasts as they dropped down the chimney or as they came from the damp old cellar when the door blew open, might volunteer some information that would be of interest; and when we threw upon the fire an old dresser shelf upon which doubtless had stood the beakers and decanters from which the former inhabitants had drank, Sim said the sparks fairly turned blue. However this may have been, they snapped as if they were eager to speak, and the following, in substance, is what they and we ourselves have to say concerning haunted houses in general and this one in par- ticular : as a rule, houses said to be haunted were those that nobody cared for. Having fallen into disuse, they came under the ban of suspicion, and became a prey to every whimsical and superstitiously inclined person who might start a story about them, which might, or might not have a foundation in fact. The farmer's boy returning late from the village store from a desire for a little cheap notoriety could say that he "saw a sight," and it might be that he did see something. Tramps or as they were called "old walkabouts" might rendezvous there, and their fire- light gleaming out of a dark evening would be an unusual sight to the passer by; or, it might be, the rising or the setting moon, throwing its slant beams through vacant chambers and seen from certain positions by timid persons, might give rise to strange stories. In neighborhoods where there was a readiness to believe such things, it would take but little to convince the credulous.
A lonesome environment, doubtless, had much to do with these beginnings, for houses said to be haunted might be in sparsedly settled districts or near the edge of a wood, or perhaps in close proximity to a place where tradition hints about a tragedy having sometime taken
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place. Sometimes stories may have started because of the questionable history of a former occupant, and, in an early period when each knew everybody's business, anything secretive on the part of a family was amply sufficient to give rise to a suggestiveness of wrong doing; and when a house became unoccupied without a sufficiently known cause, this might be due occasion for suspicion.
In the present case let us suppose there were various conjectures as to the cause, none of which were fairly set- tled upon. No one knew of anything that had actually happened there, although various events had occurred in Concord of a grewsome character, the actors in which might have been at this house. Years ago, it was said, some pirates from the Spanish Main were in the vicinity for the purpose of concealing their treasures. They were
lavish of their money, even to recklessness, and cast about their "pieces of eight" as if they were of little value. Dark hints were thrown out that this house was their head- quarters, and that about its hearth they held high carnival and drank heavily of wine. Not long after they left, strange stories were afloat. It was even said that people had been seen at night through the windows handling coin. And some went so far as to assert that "pieces of eight" had been picked up about the premises, and that when an attempt had been made to pass them in trade they would vanish, leaving the hand empty. It was also asserted that, on dark, snowy nights the house would rock like a ship, and that at such times there had been heard a shrill sound, as of a boatswain's whistle piping the pirates to meet for a carousal. Another thing alleged of the building was that some reckless Provincial soldiers 'odged there for a night, and revelled in the spoils brought from a campaign at the North, and that a portion of the spoil left over was placed in charge of the Devil, who doled it out, long years afterwards, as the shades of some of the soldiers revisited the spot to celebrate the anniversary of that night's dark debauch.
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But to return to the old disused highways. It is asked, who at the present time are occupying them? If you look and listen you may discover. That partridge is one occupant whose whirring flight through the birches so startled you. It had a nest near that rock, and in the spring time its mate drummed on that lichen covered log which was a portion of the roof tree over Seth Farwell's cottage.
The fox nightly skulks over the wheel ruts once pressed by the farmer's wagon, the doctor's sulky and the minis- ter's chaise, yes, and by the town hearse also, as it carried the mortal remains of the former owners of these vehi- cles to their "last, long home" on the hill.
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