Chapter 8

In a note at the end of Chapter V. of "Waverley," Sir Walter Scott remarks:--"These introductory chapters have been a good deal censured as tedious and unnecessary. Yet there are circumstances recorded in them which the author has not been able to persuade himself to retract or cancel." So if, in giving certain loose hints rather than sketches of characters and manners in a very interesting town, ardently beloved by all who have ever had any near connection with it, during a former generation of its inhabitants, I should be thought to have set down too many "unconsidered trifles," I can only shelter myself under the shadow of his great name, and plead that I had not the heart to leave them out, as they occurred to my memory while writing; and however they may lack, as they necessarily must, the storied value of Sir Walter's fascinating fictions, they have at least this merit,--that every narrative and anecdote in these pages is a veritable fact.

I should not wonder, however, if a couple of stories or so, which I am about to relate, were looked upon as purely fictitious by the philosophical reader. I do not pretend that the facts stated were within my own experience, only that I positively heard them related by persons of the strictest veracity, who were actual observers or actors in the transactions of which they professed to give an account. People ridicule, nowadays, when in company, the superstitions of earlier times; though it is not unlikely that the nerves of some of the boldest contemners of marvellous manifestations, once universally accepted as true, might still tremble, if alone and under circumstances calculated to awaken apprehension and to puzzle the understanding. Notwithstanding the accepted theory, that the very pretence of witchcraft, for example, was exploded a hundred and fifty years ago, and the idea of an apparition, in spite of Dr. Johnson's belief, and that of others as wise and stout as he, would be scouted as preposterous in cultivated circles, I believe that there are many places in New England where undoubting faith in both superstitions still prevails, and I know that within a third part of the period above mentioned, very many creditable persons in a certain place in New England accepted the strangest occurrences of both kinds, upon the supposed evidence of their sober senses.

We will imagine, then, that we are sitting in a circle around the fire-place in Uncle Richard's spacious kitchen, on the evening of Christmas-day, the room lighted only by the blazing logs upon the hearth, the glow of which glanced along the walls and drew brilliant reflections from the brightly-scoured dishes and other utensils of metal, which stood ranged upon the shelves. We were quite a party, and had made merry, according to our fashion, during the day. Uncle Richard was himself the most conspicuous of the group. I have said that he was well-to-do, and he was certainly a gentleman in spirit and bearing. The black dress which he assumed on Sundays, and other occasions of public importance, set off his figure well, and his white hair gathered into a pig-tail behind and tied up with a ribbon by some one of his daughters, of a morning, gave him a venerable appearance, at least in the eyes of us youngsters, beyond what the actual number of his years warranted. For I have observed that those who may have seemed to us approaching the verge of old age, in our youth, begin to look almost like coevals again, as we ourselves have advanced in the stage of manhood. Aunt Judith, on the other hand, who was a maiden lady of a certain age, was dressed with all the care and neatness which somewhat scanty means enabled her to apply, and, as I am about to produce her as a witness, I feel it incumbent upon me to asseverate, that, being a devoutly religious woman, I have never met in my life with a more conscientious and scrupulously truth-telling person. After tea, my uncle had requested the young people present to sing a new Christmas Hymn, not to be found in the Prayer Book, but the production of a devout poetical acquaintance, in the performance of which he joined with a bass voice of singular compass and melody.

THE CHRISTMAS HYMN.

How hallowed grew the night, When the auspicious light Of heaven descending shone along the plain; And wondering shepherds heard The soul-inspiring word, That swelled exultant the celestial strain!

"Peace and good-will to earth, For, lo, a Saviour's birth!" So the high song addressed the simple swains; "The gates of life again Open to guilty men, For God, the God of love, eternal reigns!"

What though all earth was still, And no ecstatic thrill In wakening lands the gracious message hailed; Yet through heaven's highest cope Echoed immortal hope, And hell's dark caves beneath trembled and wailed.

Let then creation sing,-- Hail, sovereign priest and king! Blest be thy holy name and holy Word! Hail, Son of God Most High, Helper forever nigh,-- Hail, Prince of Peace and universal Lord!

The conversation, at such times, is very apt to run into story-telling, among those who have any stores of memory, or are possessed of inventive faculties, and often turns upon such inexplicable incidents as might well bewilder the imaginations of simple country folks. My uncle gave us an account of a lad not long before in his employ, who laughed at the idea of supernatural appearances, and was indeed afraid of nothing. "The young scamp," said he, "though I don't know why I should call him so, for he was as honest as he was bold,--appeared so thoroughly fearless, that it sometimes looked like mere bravado (I am afraid he pronounced it _brave-ardor_); and a companion who also lived with us resolved to put his courage to the test. Accordingly, at dusk one evening, when Jack was about to lead the horse to the pasture, he provided himself with a sheet, and placed himself on one end of the crossbeam which rested on the rather high posts of the gate. Jack came whistling along, leading the horse, and, opening the gate, slipping off the halter, gave the animal a slap with it; and as he shut the gate cocked up his eye at the elevated figure. "And as for you, Mr. Devil," says he, "you may sit there just as long as you please." A decent respect for the proprieties of his position kept the scarecrow quiet until Jack was well on his way to the house which was not far distant. Pretty soon the door was burst open, and, to our alarm, some one tumbled in upon the floor in an agony of terror, as we soon discovered, pale as a ghost and scarcely able to speak. As soon as he recovered some degree of self-possession, he could barely stutter out,--"When Jack got out of sight--I turned to get down--and there sat another one, on the other post--looking just like me!"[11]

A great deal was thereupon said about the power of the imagination and the effect it was likely to have upon one who had placed himself in such an equivocal situation, and the terrors which, under its influence, might naturally revert to him, who in an excited state of his own nerves had endeavored to inflict such terrors upon another. Hereupon there was a general call upon Aunt Judith, from the youngsters present, to tell us something about reputed witches in her younger days,--a subject in regard to which she was said to be able to make some remarkable statements, though as yet we had never obtained from her any satisfactory information about it. She seemed a little reluctant to indulge our curiosity.

"As to witches," said my uncle Richard, gravely, "I don't know. Whether the denunciations of them in Holy Writ are intended to apply to any actually supernatural power possessed by them, or only to the pretence of it,--and both are mischievous in their effect on the popular mind,--I shall not undertake to say. It is certain that the poor old women who are thus stigmatized seem to have little power to help themselves in this world, or, if real tamperers with the powers of darkness, any enjoyable expectations from the other. But this I do know, that I was riding, not many days since, with my lawyer, a man of considerable acuteness, though a little eccentric at times, coming from K--'s Island, where we had been on some business; and as we neared the turn of the causeway to the main road, he pulled up the chaise, jumped out, and placing himself on a broad flat rock by the road-side, began violently to dance up and down and to shake his clothes. 'Good Heavens!' cried I, 'are you mad?' 'Oh, no,' said he, resuming his seat, 'but my mother always told me, that whenever I was coming away from K--'s Island, I must stand upon that rock and shake the witches off!'"

"But your story, Aunt Judith! your story," we all cried out, and after a little more hesitation the good woman _prit la parole_, as Madame de Staeel so often phrases it in "Corinne."

"When I was a grown-up girl," said she, "I and my older sister, who had lost her husband at sea, lived with my mother, who was also a widow. We had few of this world's goods, but health and energy enough to take care of ourselves. At one time, we moved into half a house, in a decent quarter of the town, the other part of which was occupied by an old woman called by the neighbors 'Granny Holt.' Coming from a street of the town at some distance, we had heard nothing that I remember about her; but the day had not gone by, before it was made fully known to us by such acquaintances as we saw, that we had taken up our abode in the same house with a person of a very crabbed disposition, whom all the neighborhood looked upon as a witch. This was not very agreeable news, but we tried to make the best of it. Our house was near the river-side, and we were surrounded by the families of those who followed the sea, and we endeavored to flatter ourselves with the idea, that idle tales of marvelous things are very common among that class of population; and that the stories we heard were mere gossip, as we whispered to ourselves, for fear of being overheard through the thin partition which divided us from the other tenant. But, 'No!' said one of our callers in a low voice--one of the Pearse girls (a young lady, by the way, about seventy, but Aunt Judith was of a certain age); 'I tell you it's as true as a sermon in the meetin'-house. You'll soon find out what she can do. Why, there's young Stout, as fine a lad as ever walked the streets, or stood by the helm of his vessel in a gale o' wind; and look at him now, pale and cadaverous, and walking round people's gardens, on the edge of narrow fences where nobody but a rope-dancer, with a pole in his hands, could keep his balance, and a hundred more such antics; everybody knows she bewitched him.'

"'But what for?' we asked.

"'Oh, they had a quarrel, and pretty soon he began to cut these capers.'

"My sister Ann, the widow, however, who had always a brave spirit, declared that she did not care a fig for all the witches in Christendom; but I must own that I was very much alarmed. You may be sure, we none of us much liked this sort of greeting, on the first day of our entering into our new habitation, and we prepared to retire early, my mother, who was a truly pious person, trusting to the only sure defence. Upon going to my chamber, I found there was no fastening to the door; in fact the handle itself was quite out of kilter, and it could not be shut tight. I moved up to it, therefore, a chest of drawers, putting some things on top, and thus brought the door close. I was just about to blow out the candle to get into bed, when I heard a scrambling in the chimney, and you may believe it or not, but it's the solemn truth--a black cat jumped from the fire-place, ran and leaped a-top of the things I had placed against the door, put her paw upon the handle of it, gave me one sidelong glance, opened the door itself and passed out. I was too frightened for anything but to wrap myself thoroughly in the bedclothes, and trembling with terror, at last fell into a troubled sleep."

"Are you sure, Aunt Judith," said my uncle Richard, "that the cat did not go under the bed?"

"I tell you, as plainly as I see you now, I saw her open the door, look round at me with that malicious kind of expression, go out and shut the door behind her; and in the morning everything I had piled up against it was unmoved."

"It must have been the ghost of a cat, then," said my uncle; "but did anything else happen, afterwards?"

"Yes, in a few days we had got a baking ready and the oven heated, when the old woman came in with an armful of wood, threw it down on the hearth, and said she wanted to bake. The oven was for the use of both parts of the house; but we told her as soon as we had got through she should have it. She went off muttering, and when we thought our batch was done and went to take it out, it was burned just as black as a coal."

"I am afraid," said my uncle, "you let it stay in too long, or the oven was too hot."

"You may laugh as much as you please," replied Aunt Judith, with spirit, "but I tell you what I actually saw with my own eyes. We did not stay longer in that house than we could find another place; but before we left something took place which perhaps you'll not find it so easy to explain. Young William Stout's folks had been so troubled about him, and the doctors said they could do nothing, that they determined to try a 'project.'"

I may as well explain what Aunt Judith's modesty prevented her from doing; that a "project" was to inclose a certain liquid emanation of the afflicted person in a phial tightly stopped, and to put it over the fire in a pot to boil. Of course, as in the case of the sympathetic remedies described by Sir Kenelm Digby and practised by him, as the contents of the phial boil, the witch burns, and she is inevitably detected by the scorching she gets and the scars it leaves behind. It is from this circumstance, undoubtedly, that the nursery rhyme derives its authority,--

"Hinx minx, the old witch winks, The fat begins to fry," etc.

This is precisely the operation of the process in question.

"Accordingly," continued Aunt Judith, "the Stout folks made all their preparations, in company with some trusty neighbors; the doors were fastened, and exactly at twelve o'clock the 'project' was begun. Everything went on well; but, as often happens in such cases, something was forgotten, or the witches' master interferes; for it seemed, after a while, that more water was wanted, and one of the company took the pail to go to the well for it. As he cautiously opened the door, there to their horror stood Granny Holt, in the darkness of midnight! She came in grinning and complimenting, and without expressing surprise at finding so many persons together, at such an unusual hour, or making any inquiry as to the reason, she said, 'one of their folks was taken sick and seeing a light there, she had come over to beg some herbs.' There was the end of the _project_, and I don't know as it was ever tried again."

"Were you there, yourself?" asked Uncle Richard.

"No, I can only swear to the black cat and the burnt pies; but everybody in our neighborhood knew all about the project and Granny Holt's breaking it up."

We had become pretty well stirred up by this time, but as is likely to be the case under such circumstances, were eager for whatever other marvel might be forthcoming; for no matter how intelligent or incredulous the circle of hearers may be, there is something strangely fascinating in these weird stories. People may affect indifference "amidst the blazing light of the nineteenth century;" but I think that of a dark night, in a lonely spot, the starting up of so familiar a creature as a white horse, for instance, would set the strongest nerves into perturbation, at the idea of something ghostly. Indeed, Addison declared in his day, that there "was not a village in England that had not a ghost in it; the churchyards were haunted; nor was there a peasant who had not seen a spirit."

"Well, Aunt Judith," said Uncle Richard, "these wonderful things seem to have very much gone by, in our day, or else people, for some reason, take less notice of them than formerly. Witches, nowadays, are characters entirely unknown, except," he gallantly remarked, "for the sometimes really inexplicable fascinations of members of your own sex; and, except in one singular instance, I have known of no appearances which could not be rationally accounted for. I have heard my father, however, tell of one which, according to the tradition, manifested itself, one hundred years ago or more, upon a bridge, over the Ipswich River, in our Essex County town of Topsfield, and was the terror of all the country round. He appeared in the shape of a monstrous hog, taking his station, at night, in the very centre of the bridge; and those who had occasion to cross it, on horseback or on foot, were either fain to turn back, as he encountered them, bristling and snarling, or rushed by, if their occasion demanded it, in a state of extraordinary trepidation. At length, Parson Capen, the worthy minister of the town, riding up to the bridge one evening, saw the spectre in his usual position. Nothing daunted, in virtue of his holy office, the good man thus accosted him: 'You that were once an angel of light, ain't you ashamed to appear in the shape of a dirty swine?' This expostulation was too much for the foul fiend, who at once jumped over the railing of the bridge into the river, and was no more seen."

Amongst others of the few guests of the evening was a young gentleman, a member of one of the learned professions, who was accounted an intellectual person and was of rather grave demeanor. Though known to have been the author of occasional verses which gained applause, he would not have been thought likely to be the subject of any extraordinary hallucination. He was an intimate friend of our family, and on certain occasions of unusual excitement, if not danger, in the midst of the various adventures of young people, had shown a singular firmness of nerve and presence of mind, and was thought to be in fact insensible to fear. He had listened to the story of the bold lad who saw the supposed apparition on the gate-post, and to that of the Topsfield spectre, with much the same interest as that which Marmion exhibited at Sir David Lindesay's narrative of the appearance of the beloved Apostle to King James in Linlithgow. Apparently induced by a similar irresistible impulse to that which drew from the redoubted warrior of Scott's fascinating poem the rehearsal of his nocturnal adventure, our guest volunteered a relation quite as remarkable.

"I will tell you a story," said he, "of something unaccountable which once happened to me, though the circumstances are still so vivid in my memory, that I look back upon it with a sort of superstitious dread, and feel a decided reluctance in appealing to the sympathy of others, in regard to an incident which seemed exclusively addressed to myself and was confined to my own sole experience.

"In my senior year at College, now as you know, not many years since, I was appointed by my class to prepare for delivery, on what is called Class Day, a literary exercise,--in fact a poem, in anticipation of the usual Commencement performances, and was at home, during the preceding long vacation, making ready for this event. The writing of poetry for public recitation before a critical audience is a rather exacting occupation, and my ambition was naturally excited to do the best in my power. Indeed, the work absorbed all my faculties; but I preferred to write during the still hours of the night, rather than amidst the ordinary distractions of the day, spending that period, usually, wandering in the neighboring fields and woods, or in other diversions. The season was summer, and I was sitting one night at an open window, committing to paper such thoughts as occurred to me, by the light of a single candle,--for lamps were then not very common and gas was entirely unknown. Outside, there was not a sound, for the whole town was buried in profound sleep, and our own household was in the same state of repose. It was just on the stroke of twelve. Our house was a very ancient one, though I never heard that there was anything peculiarly remarkable in its history. Sitting thus, and thus engaged in serious, solitary contemplation, the sudden fall of something heavy in the garret overhead gave me a momentary start. I could compare it to nothing but to the effect likely to be produced by something as solid as a smaller description of cannon-ball, though it afterwards appeared to have attracted the attention of no one else in the family. Supposing that some article of furniture had accidentally fallen, the noise of which had been rendered more noticeable by the perfect stillness of the night, I pursued my occupation, until I felt disposed for sleep. On the following night, while engaged in the same way, and at the same midnight hour, came the same heavy, sharp, distinct thud upon the floor directly above my head. I was disposed to philosophize on the subject, and, though the coincidence was certainly peculiar, I still conceived that this unusual sound, at such an unusual hour, might be attributed to some natural cause. Perhaps, a heavy cat might have jumped down from beams above, on both occasions, and the noise was magnified by the otherwise unbroken stillness, though so far as I remember we kept no such cat of our own. I am sure that the idea of anything supernatural scarcely occurred to me, or was dismissed with derision. Nevertheless, the circumstances were peculiar enough to induce me to make a thorough examination of the garret on the following morning, and I was struck by the fact, that it was perfectly bare of any article of furniture above my chamber, or in the neighborhood of that part of the attic, which could have fallen. I was naturally a good deal perplexed at an occurrence for which there seemed no rational means of accounting, but I kept my own counsel. On the third night, at the same hour, when the clear bell from the steeple of a meeting-house not far distant had just tolled twelve, came the same sudden, single, distinct sound of a fall on the floor, directly over my head. I will not say as Marmion did, on the occasion above referred to,--

"'I care not though the truth I show,-- I trembled with affright.'

"On the contrary, though not a little disturbed by incidents so unaccountable, and rendered by the interruption quite unfit to pursue my occupation further, I deliberately undressed, said my prayers, put out my candle, and went to bed. It was a bright starlight night, and the two windows of my chamber made objects within indistinctly visible. No sooner had I laid my head upon the pillow, than through a door at the foot of my bed appeared a slowly moving figure, turning the corner of the bed and approaching the side of it upon which I lay. I could distinctly see its outlines, and it seemed to me apparelled like a monk, with a hood drawn over its features, and long trailing garments. As Eliphaz the Temanite, under similar circumstances, has related,--'the hair of my flesh stood up.' But I did not quite lose my self-possession. As the figure came nearer, I instantly threw off the bedclothes and jumped towards it into the middle of the room,--and it was gone! Though startled enough at so strange an occurrence, I reflected that it must be an illusion produced by some casual disorder of the natural faculties, and returned to bed and slept as usual until morning. But the next day I was much more disturbed in recalling the several circumstances of this extraordinary visitation. The repeated previous heavy blows upon the floor, and their apparent consummation in the vision I supposed myself to have seen, made me, as Othello says, 'perplexed in the extreme.' On that day I told my mother the story; she laughed at the idea of supernatural appearances, perhaps to quiet her son's emotion; but she said she was afraid of no ghosts, proposed an exchange of chambers, and this accommodation at once took place. But though I finished and delivered the poem in question, I continued to muse by myself upon what had occurred, unwilling to speak to any one about it. It was many months before I recovered from the shock to my nervous system. Reflecting upon it at the time, again I summoned whatever philosophy I had at command, as well as I could. I conceived that possibly in the excitement of verse-writing, in the silence of the night, some tenseness had affected the drum of my ear; that hearing, or imagining that I heard some unusual sound, amid the perfect stillness around me, a continuous disordered state of physical functions had produced a similar effect at a correspondent hour; and that this experience not unnaturally culminated in the spectral visitation."

We heard the story in terror, and put little faith in the theory of explanation.

"But," said my uncle Richard, himself a good deal amazed at the narrative, "did anything happen afterwards, to account for what you have told us?"

"Nothing whatever," replied our friend.

"Did you ever sleep in that chamber again?"

"Yes, some years afterwards. It so happened that during several weeks in the summer, our whole family except myself, was away. My mother was in close attendance upon sick members of my sister's family. My brothers were at sea, and even our ordinary servant was dismissed for the occasion. When the time for rest arrived, it was my habit to let myself into the house, to proceed to the same chamber, usually without a light, and go to bed. One night, putting my hand upon the pillow, I felt something soft and started back, but again reaching forward, the object proved to be a dove that had flown into the open window, and securing it without difficulty I gave that symbol of innocence immediate release. Perhaps, it was my former visitant in a less forbidding form. But this, as well as the other, passed into the course of ordinary events."

I need not say, that we had listened to this extraordinary narrative with rapt attention and in breathless silence. Our friend had told his story with emotion, certainly, but still with serious deliberation, and exhibiting no undue signs of excitement. No one seemed disposed to make any observation upon it, and indeed most of the company were utterly incapable of the effort of speech. In a few moments, he remarked that he would quote to us a brief passage from Dante's great poem which was applicable to the subject, and did so as follows:--

... "Now, O reader! mark, And if my tale thou slowly shalt receive, Thy doubt will cause in me no great surprise, For I, who saw it, scarcely can believe."[12]

"But, Uncle Richard," was now the cry, "you said you had once seen an apparition, or something like one; please tell us all about it."

"I certainly saw something strange," said he, "on more than one occasion, which has never yet been accounted for; and I suppose it is now too late to expect it. If it was really a matter of concert and collusion, the motive for it has never been discovered. You remember the open space in town, in front of the Reverend Mr. ----'s meeting-house. Your house, as you know, Jemmie," addressing me, "looks directly up the street towards this square, and to the somewhat old-fashioned mansion opposite the meeting-house. On one side of the square was a small dwelling, occupied by several distant relatives of ours; Aunt Midkiff (Metcalf), Aunt Foggison (Ferguson, so called), and her sister, Miss Samples (Mrs. Semple), with the daughter of our Aunt Foggison, Mrs. Lane, and her only child. You remember, sister," addressing my mother, "that you have told me, that one night, after you had gone to bed, your lamented husband stood at the window looking up the street towards the old house above, of which he had a complete view. Upon your asking what detained him, he called you up, and it was evident to you both that one chamber of the house was in a light blaze. Persons appeared to be moving rapidly around it, and, as it were, pulling down the curtains of the bed, which looked as if on fire. After a little time the appearance gradually ceased, and your husband remarking that he would inquire in the morning of his neighbor, a highly respectable lawyer, who occupied the house, what was the cause of the extraordinary spectacle of the night before, he also retired. But upon putting the question to his acquaintance on the following morning, he seemed astonished, and utterly denied that anything unusual had taken place in the chamber, which was the one occupied by himself and his wife, or that they had been at all disturbed during the night.

"Now all this," continued my uncle, "is quite consistent with the supposition, that this gentleman may have had some secret motive for concealing the fact of a threatened conflagration, pretty sure, if known, to become the town talk and perhaps to expose him to inconvenient inquiries; and though a strictly moral and religious man, he may have thought that the circumstances warranted a direct denial of the matter, seeing it was, as it turned out, an affair of purely domestic concern."

My mother, I thought, looked at my uncle a little anxiously, and seemed about to make a movement for our departure; but we urged him to tell us to what strange thing he had referred, and why he had so particularly described the situation and characteristics of this square, as if there were something more in relation to it which it might interest us to know; for you may be sure our mother had never mentioned to us children anything likely to alarm us.

"I am afraid," said he, at last "that something, which really did happen in front of the house I have spoken of, will startle you young folks, and perhaps it is foolish to relate it, as you seem already quite excited enough; but I will premise by saying, that I will only tell you what I saw myself, or heard from those upon whose word I could implicitly rely; and, moreover, that I do not believe in ghosts, however singular the facts in question may appear. Of course, you know, sister," addressing my mother, "my calls at your house were sometimes in the evening, after attending the market or to other business during the day. It was during one of your husband's absences at sea, that we were sitting around the fire of a wintry night, when a lively neighbor, a lady who took much interest in whatever was going on, came in evidently in a state of agitation, and taking her seat, with very brief greeting, broke out with the exclamation, 'There he is again!' I did not understand what this meant, but it was soon explained to us that, for a week or ten days past, some person, or figure, or whatever it might be, had been observed walking fore and aft, in front of the house opposite the meeting-house, at a certain hour of the evening, and though many had passed, no one had recognized him, nor did he take any notice whatever of any one whom he met. He was said to wear a pea-jacket buttoned to the chin, and a glazed hat, as if prepared for any kind of weather; or, as the gossips afterwards said, indicating the fact that he was the forerunner of the loss of not a few masters of vessels residing in the neighborhood, who perished at sea during the storms of that season. I took my hat and went out to see if I could discover anything uncommon. It was a moonlight night, with a light fall of snow upon the ground. As I passed up the short street to the square, Aunt Foggison's chamber window was thrown open, and her daughter's voice was plainly heard berating the supposed spectral night-walker. 'What are you doing there, you good-for-nothing scamp, you?' cried she, in a voice that must have reached any mortal ears; 'why don't you go home to your family, if you've got any family, or wherever else you belong, instead of stalking up and down here, frightening honest folks out of their senses?' Overcome perhaps by the vigor of her expostulation, the window was shut down with a slam. As I advanced, though I certainly had a full view of a human-looking figure upon its round and at no great distance either, and my senses had been confirmed by the objurgations addressed to it by our worthy relative, when I actually reached the ground of his perambulations, prepared to seize a single man by the collar and learn what he was about, it is certain that he was no longer visible. I returned to the house and made report of my unsuccessful doings, and unhitched my horse and drove home. I learned, a few days afterwards, that the figure regularly appeared, giving one sign of vitality by a regular tramp--tramp--tramp--upon the frozen ground, so far as any one was disposed to listen, and spreading consternation throughout the vicinity. The affair at length became unendurable. Women were afraid to go into the street, and, for that, a good many men too, and it was really so serious, that, as I learned, it was resolved to form what is called, I believe, a cordon, and gradually approaching the place simultaneously from every avenue, so to inclose him that escape would be impossible. Being much acquainted with the people of that part of the town, I was invited to join the company, and accordingly drove in seasonably for the purpose. Certainly, most sober people believed the whole was but some trick, which it only needed reasonable pains to discover and defeat. The mysterious figure, it seemed, continued to walk, ignorant of or indifferent to our devices.

"There were three main avenues, by streets, to the premises, together with a narrow passage way leading from one of the streets to another. At the appointed hour we duly assembled on our several stations. Our director was 'a rude and boisterous captain of the sea'"--(for Uncle Richard could sometimes be poetical, at least in the way of quoting Shakespeare). "It had been arranged by him that, being on our posts, at a fixed moment, we should move rapidly up the several avenues and so join forces as to form a circle inclosing the open space, and gradually contracting our company, if the rogue was then within our compass we should have him sure. The arrangement had been made in profound secrecy, and if any there were traitors, I was not aware of it. Sure enough there was our guest on his usual stroll. As our circle speedily drew in, and just as hands were stretched out to seize him--presto, as the jugglers say--he was gone!"

"By the jumping gingerbread!" exclaimed Thurlow, our uncle's hired man, springing from his chair by the wall, outside of our family party,--seeing this was Christmas night.

"Oh dear sus!" cried Sally Bannocks, our own particular help of many years, from the like position.

"Our detective band," resumed my uncle, "looked at one another in amazement, and after some hard swearing from a few of the roughest, and the exchange of a hasty 'good-night,' dispersed, as far as convenient in companies of two or three, and departed, a good deal disconcerted, to their several places of abode. The same experiment was tried on two or three other occasions, as I was informed by friends, with no better success. Spectre or not, he always found means to elude them; and there were always those who, having no other means of accounting for his evasion, insisted upon it that he must have had confederates among those who sought to arrest him."

"Could he not have escaped slyly into the house?" asked some incredulous inquirer.

"That was hardly likely, with so many eyes upon him. Besides there was nobody there but women and children, excessively alarmed themselves, the husband, Captain Y----, being at sea, and one of those who was afterwards known to have been lost with all his crew, upon nearing our dangerous coast."

"But why did not the city government make a piece of work of putting an end to such a scandal?" inquired a doubter in spectral visitations.

"Well, I suspect a whole body of police could do little towards capturing an actual ghost; and then, too, there was at that time no city and no such force. Our town government consisted of mostly ancient citizens, and three or four constables, all of whom, probably, preferred to remain quietly and comfortably at home, instead of venturing out into the wintry night air, to hunt up ghosts."

"Why didn't somebody try the effect of a bullet?" inquired another.

"Well, shooting was a rather violent remedy; and as for firing at a ghost, I believe every one was afraid."

"Wasn't it strange, considering that he must have had some particular object in haunting that spot, and was likely, therefore, to be found out by some of the neighborhood by his face, or dress, or figure, or gait, or in some way or other, if a real person, that he never was recognized?" asked another of our evening guests.

"It was strange enough," said my uncle; "but few, if any, got very near him, and they perhaps, casual passers-by, who paid no attention to the fact. As for him, he only walked steadily backward and forward, turning neither to the right nor to the left, except at each end of his beat; replying to no interrogatories, and appearing utterly unconscious of any epithets or railings which from a distance were hurled at him. Only one man ever professed to have seen his face."

"Who was that, uncle?" we all eagerly exclaimed.

"Late one stormy night, when the snow was falling fast," continued my uncle,--"and one would suppose that any reasonable creature of flesh and blood would wish to be safely housed,--an hostler named Dobbin, who had charge of a stable at one end of the street, was trudging home, swinging a lantern in his hand, to the small house in which he lived, at a little distance beyond the now pretty notorious 'Ghost's Walk.' As he approached the spot, there, to be sure, was the object of terror, taking his usual exercise. 'Now,' as Dobbin told the story, 'thinks I to myself, I'll play you a trick, mister, and find out who you are, if I can. So, jest slyly unfastening the door of the lantern, as I met him, I flung the door wide open and held it up to his face, and I says, says I, "A stormy night, friend." I thought I should know him, and guess I should if ever I do see him again, which I don't want to, I tell _you_; and may I hope to die, if ever I saw that face before. He looked pale, and his eyes, as he fixed 'em on me, had what I call a sort of a stony glare. He never opened his mouth, but just looked. It was only a glance, as it were, for I never was so frightened in my life, and jest dropped lantern and scampered away home as fast as my legs could carry me.'"

"Lud-a-massy!" screamed Sally Bannocks, on the verge of hysterics,--and some of the rest of us were not far from that condition. We were mostly on our feet, and as my mother insisted upon our bidding "Good-night," Uncle Richard proposed, after a further trial of his capital cider, to harness his horse and drive us home in his covered wagon. But it was a fine night and, though getting rather late, we concluded that it would do us more good to take the air, in the mile or two of the walk to town. In the course of our preparations for departure, and in answer to a variety of questions, our uncle informed us, that the mystery was never cleared up, nor the trick, if trick it were, ever discovered. As to the tale of such a person as Dobbin, we might place what reliance upon it we saw fit; and though the motive seemed certainly difficult to see, it might have been, after all, a well-contrived piece of deception, to be sure, a very laborious and unaccountable one, concealed by the collusion of parties in the secret. How long the ghost continued to walk he did not know; but it finally disappeared, and the house had been inhabited by respectable people ever since, who had suffered no disturbance.

We reached home after a brisk walk, crossing rapidly--and with now and then a furtive look--the very premises so haunted in other days, and "Thanks be to Praise!" ejaculated Sally Bannocks, as we entered and closed the door. The house was cold, after having been shut up all day. We quickly separated to our several chambers, and as I laid my head upon the pillow and was soon sound asleep, I too, murmured to myself, "Thanks be to Praise!"

[11] Jack's composure has a parallel in that of an old-time Scottish clergyman, as the story is told by Dean Ramsay. On returning home late from a dinner abroad his way led through the churchyard, and some mischievous fellows thought to frighten him. One of them came up to him dressed as a ghost, but the minister coolly inquired, "Weel, maister Ghaist, is this a general rising, or are ye juist taking a daunder frae yer grave by yersel?"

[12] _Inferno_, Canto xxv., Parsons's translation.

APPENDIX.

The following papers, marked I., II., III. are copies of those discovered among family documents in the house of Mr. H. W. S. Cleveland, of Salem, Massachusetts, several years ago. They were communicated by him to the late Mr. Henry Lunt, formerly a merchant of Boston, father of the late highly distinguished Rev. Dr. William Parsons Lunt, who died, much lamented, while on his travels, at Akaba, in Arabia. How these documents came to be deposited in Salem, it is not easy to say. It is probable, however, that copies were brought over by the "Mary and John," or the "Elizabeth and Dorcas," which appear to have wintered in Boston, after their arrival, the passengers, or such of them as saw fit and were permitted, proceeding to Ipswich, the following year (1634) and thence to the plantation which they called Newbury. It is likely, therefore, that the papers which concerned the passengers of those vessels might be taken to Salem, perhaps during Governor Endicott's administration, and placed in the hands of some official person at that place, so as to be more accessible to the home of the people in question, instead of being retained at Boston, the journey to which from Newbury was in those days a long and tedious one, to be made on foot through the wilderness.

To many persons the abstract of the Charter of Charles I., which is a very liberal one, can hardly fail to be interesting. The Orders in Council, referred to in the text, are still more so; while the list of passengers by the "Mary and John" comprises many names still to be found in Newbury. Many more familiar names will be found among those of the company which came by the "Elizabeth and Dorcas." It will be seen that in the list given are the names of Thomas Parker, an eminent divine, and of James Noyes, his nephew; the first the long respected pastor of the church and the other the "teacher" at Newbury.

I.

An Abstract of His Ma^{ty's} Charter for incorporating the Company of the Mattachusetts Bay in New England in America, Granted in the 4th yeare of His Highness' Reign of England, Scotland France & Ireland, Anno. Domini 1628--

And we do further of our especial Grace, certain Knowledge & mere mocion for us our Heirs & Successors--Give and Grant to the said Governour & Company & their Sucessors for ever by these presents, That it shall be lawfull & free for them & their Assigns at all & every Time & Times hereafter out of any of our Realms or Dominions whatsoev^{r}, to take lade carry & transport for in & into their voyages, & for & towards the said Plantation in New England all such & so many of our Loving Subjects or any other Strangers that will become our Loving Subjects & live under our Alleigeance as shall willingly accompany them in the said Voyages & Plantations, And also Shipping, Armour, Weapons, Ordnance, Munition, Powder, Shott, Corn victuals & all manner of Cloathing, Implements, Furniture, Beasts, Cattle, Horses, Mares, Merchandizes & all other things necessary for the said Plantation and for their use & Defence & for Trade with the People there & in passing & returning to & fro, any Law or statute to the Contrary thereof in any wise notwithstanding--And without paying or yielding any custom or Subsidy either Inwards or Outwards, to us our Heirs or Successors for the same, by the space of seaven years from the Day of the Date of these Presents--Provided that none of the said Persons be such as shall hereafter by Especial name be restrained by us, our Heirs or Successors----

And for their further Incouragem^{t} of our Especial Grace & favor--we Do by these presents for us, our Heirs & successors yield & grant to the said Governour & Company & their successors & every of them their Factors & Assigns that they & every of them shall be free & quit from all Taxes Subsidys & Customs in New England for the space of seaven years, and from all Taxes & Impositions for the space of Twenty one years upon all Goods & merchandizes at any time or times hereafter Either upon Importation there, or Exportation thence, into our Realm of England or into any of our Dominions, by the said Governour or Company & their successors, their Deputys, Factors & Assigns or any of them except only the Five Pounds p^{r} Centum due for Custom upon all such Goods & Merchandizes as, after the said seaven years shall be expired, shall be brought or imported into our Realm of England or any other of our Dominions according to the Ancient Trade of Merchants, which Five Pounds p^{r} centum only being paid it shall be thenceforth lawfull & free for the s^{d} Adventurers the same Goods & Merchandizes to export & carry out of our Dominions into Foreign Parts without any Custom, Tax or other Duty to be paid to us our Heirs or Successors or to any other officer or officers or ministers of us our Heirs or Successors,--

Provided that the said Goods & merchandize be shipp'd out within thirteen months after their first Landing within any part of the said Dominions--

This is a true Copy of His Ma^{ties} Letters Patent aforesaid--Custom House London 30th January 1633 Anno. R. Caroli Nono--

JOHN WOLSTENHOLME, _Collector_.

II.

ORDERS IN COUNCIL.

_New England,--At Whitehall the last of February, 1633._

Present:

Lo. Arch. Bp. of Cant. Earle of Kelley. Lo. Keep^{r}. Lo. Cottington. Lo. Privie Seal M^{r}. V. Chamb^{r}line. Lo. High Chamb^{r}line. M^{r}. Compt^{r}. M^{r}. Secretary Wyndibank.

Whereas by a Warr^{t}. bearing date 22nd of this Present, the sev'all ships following bound for New England, and now lying in the River of Thames were made staye of untill further order from their Lo'pps. viz., The Clement & Job, The Reformation, The True Love, The Elizabeth Bonadventure, The Sea Flower, The Mary & John, The Planter, The Elizabeth & Dorcas, The Hercules & The Neptune.

Forasmuch as the masters of the said ships were this day called before the Board & several Particulars given them in charge to be performed in their said voyage, amongst which the said masters were to enter into several Bonds of One Hundred Pounds a piece to His Maj^{s}tys use before the Clarke of the Councell attendant to observe & cause to be observed and putt in Execucion these Articles following viz:

1. That all and every Person aboard their Ships now bound for New England as aforesaid, that shall blaspheme or profane the Holy name of God be severely punis'h't.

2. That they cause the Prayers contained in the Book of Common Prayers establisht in the Church of England, to be said daily at the usual hours for Morning & Evening Prayers & that they cause all Persons aboard their said ships to be present at the same.

3. That they do not receive aboard or transport any Person that hath not Certificate from the Officers of the Port where he is to imbarke that he hath taken both the Oathes of Alleigeance & Supremacy.

4. That upon their return into this Kingdom they Certify to the Board the names of all such Persons as they shall transport together with their Proceedings in the Execu'ion of the aforesaid Articles--Whereunto the said M^{rs}. have conformed themselves--It was therefore & for diverse other Reasons best known to their Lo^{pps}. thought fitt that for this time they should be permitted to proceed on their Voyage, and it was thereupon ordered that Gabriel Marsh Esq^{r}. Marshalle of the Admiralty, & all other His Maj'ty's Officers to whom their said Warr^{t}. was directed should be required upon sight hereof to discharge all & every the said Ships, & suffer them to depart on their intended Voyage to New England--EX. JON. MEANTYS.

III.

_The names of such Passengers as took the Oathes of Supremacy, and Alleigeance to pass for New England in the Mary & John of London Robert Sayres Master,_

24th Mar. 1633.

William Trace (Tracy) John Marshe John Luff Henry Traske William Moudey Robert Sever Thomas Avery Henry Travers Thomas Sweete John Woodbridge Thomas West Thomas Savery Christopher Osgood Phillip Fowler Richard Jacob Daniel Ladd Robert Kingsman John Bartlett Robert Coker William Savery John Anthoney (left behind) Stephen Jurden John Godfrey George Browne Nicholas Noyce Richard Browne Richard Reynolds Richard Littlehall William White Matthew Hewlett (Hercules) John Whelyer William Clarke Robert Newman Adrian Vincent.

The 26th day of March.

Nicholas Easton Richard Kent Abraham Mussey William Spencer Henry Shorte William Hibbens William Ballard Matthew Gillett William Franklin John Mussey Thomas Cole Thomas Parker James Noyce John Spencer Richard Kent Joseph Myles John Newman William Newbey Henry Lunt Joseph Pope Thomas Newman John Newman.

For which we gave certificate, together with five others, which are said to be left behind to oversee the Chattle to pass in the Hercules viz.

The names of the Passengers in the Hercules of London, John Kiddey Ma^{r}. for New England.

These six Passengers took their Oathes of Supremacy & Alleigeance the 24th March and were left behind the Mary & John, as intended to pass in y^{e} Hercules--viz:

John Anthony } Cert, the six first Robert Early } to Mt'er Sayers as William Satcome } intended. Thomas Foster } Secondth to Mr. William Foster } Kiddey to pass in the Matthew Hewlett. } Hercules.

16th April, 1634. Nathaniel Davyes George Kinge Thomas Rider William Elliot William Fifeilde Henry Phelps.

18. These proceedings were Copyed out of an Olde Book of Orders belonging to the Port of South'ton but now remaining at the Custom house in Portsmouth the 6th Day of December 1735.

Per THOMAS WHITEHOUSE.

IV.

In regard to the costume which prevailed, among persons of wealth and standing in New England, within a century, I quote a descriptive passage from a history of Newburyport, by Mrs. E. V. Smith, published in 1854, as follows:--

"With the incoming of the nineteenth century, garments more in conformity with present fashions took precedence of three-cornered hats, long coats with immense pocket-folds and cuffs, but without collars, in which the men of the eighteenth century prided themselves; with their buttons of pure silver, or plated, of the size of a half-dollar, presenting a great superfluity of coat and waistcoat when contrasted with the short nether garments, ycleped "breeches," or "small-clothes," which reached only to the knee, being there fastened with large (?) silver buckles, which ornament was also used in fastening the straps of shoes. The gentlemen quite equalled the ladies at this period in the amount of finery, and the brilliancy of colors in which they indulged. A light blue coat with large fancy buttons, a white satin embroidered waistcoat, red velvet breeches, silk stockings, and buckled shoes, with a neckcloth, or scarf, of finely embroidered cambric, or figured stuff, the ends hanging loose, the better to show the work, and liberal bosom and wrist ruffles (the latter usually fastened with gold or silver buckles), were usually considered a proper evening dress for a gentleman of any pretension to fashion. The clergy and many other gentlemen commonly wore black silk stockings, and others contented themselves with gray woollen. The boots had a broad fold of white leather turned over the top, with tassels dangling from either side. The clergy frequently wore silk or stuff gowns and powdered wigs. The ladies usually wore black silk or satin bonnets, long-waisted and narrow-skirted dresses for the street, with long tight sleeves, and in the house, sleeves reaching to the elbow, finished with an immensely broad frill; high-heeled shoes, and always, when in full dress, carried a profusely ornamented fan. The excessively long waists, toward the close of this period, were exchanged for extremely short ones; so short, that the belt or waist was inhumanly contrived to come at the broadest part of the chest. But no fashion of dress was so permanent as other customs clinging to particular eras. Anciently, as now, fashions were changed more or less extensively every ten years, though certain broad characteristics remained long enough to give specific character to the costuming of the eighteenth century."

The writer is accurate enough, no doubt, in her general description; but what lady could give an entirely correct account of a gentleman's attire? Knee-buckles, for instance, were almost necessarily small, instead of "large"; it may be questioned whether top-boots were ever decorated with tassels, a single article of that sort often hanging at the front of a different kind of high boot, worn long after the beginning of the present century; and as to the silk gowns of clergymen, it is but a very few years since they began to be disused in the pulpit by Presbyterian and Congregational ministers. About forty years before the present period, many gentlemen wore dresses of the cut described by Mrs. Smith, though of a more subdued color,--black, blue, or drab. Not long after the beginning of the present century, a chief magistrate of Massachusetts, Gov. Gore, made a sort of progress through the State, in imposing style. His elegant, open carriage was drawn by four handsome and spirited horses, and he was attended by his aids and several outriders. The governor was a gentleman of fine personal appearance, and was attired in the highest style of contemporary civil costume, with his white hair gathered behind into a satin bag, and his aids were in undress military costume. He was a "Federalist," and this demonstration cost him his election the next time; for, though a man of brilliant ability and high personal character, he served but one year. At a date fifteen years later, I saw the "Democratic" governor of Massachusetts, Mr. Eustis, in attendance upon the Commencement exercises, at Harvard College, dressed much in the fashion of half a century earlier; namely, coat and waistcoat with broad flaps, small-clothes, ruffles at his bosom and wrists, a cocked hat of the old style, and a steel-hilted rapier at his side. Ten years afterwards, one of the best governors the Commonwealth has ever had, Mr. Lincoln, who served the State in this capacity for nine several terms, wore also a distinguishing costume, but more conformable to modern fashions. About the ruffles to his shirt-bosom I am sure, and feel much confidence, from memory, in regard to black small-clothes and black silk stockings, and his hat was always decorated with a black cockade. Nowadays a governor's appearance scarcely distinguishes him from any ordinary person in the crowd.

The cocked hats, however, and much of the costume of the eighteenth century, continued to be worn by the survivors of Revolutionary officers and some others, during the first quarter of the present century and afterwards.

V.

The subjoined interesting sketch of an ancient dwelling-house and of a family which has inhabited it for several generations, was furnished by a distinguished friend, Thomas Coffin Amory, Esq., of Boston, who traces his ancestry on the maternal side to the family in question. Nor, in producing this highly interesting sketch, could I overlook Joshua Coffin, the historian of Newbury and a resident of that town, from the originally extensive territory of which various adjacent towns were eventually formed. He was possessed of many amiable qualities and inspired by the true antiquarian spirit, and laboriously pored among the not very carefully kept early records of the original settlement, and brought much out of chaos well calculated to illustrate its former history. Mr. Amory has, on various occasions, shown the spirit of a careful historical student and of an intelligent and zealous antiquary. His recent contributions to that excellent periodical, "The New England Historical and Genealogical Register," which has become of inestimable value, as a collection of facts illustrative of early New England history and biography, have given great pleasure to multitudes of readers,--especially his vivid and graphic descriptions of certain ancient and storied mansions in Boston and Cambridge, and of their former inhabitants. Let us hope that researches of such abundant interest and value will soon claim and gain a still larger share of the public attention in a collected form.

MY DEAR SIR,--In your reminiscences of Newburyport you must not forget Joshua Coffin its historian,--one of the best of men, whom no one knew but to love. I see him now as he came to visit me several years ago, when he was representing his native town in the General Court, a fresh, hale, cheery gentleman, full of pleasant anecdotes relating to the past. He owned and occupied the Coffin mansion, which had been the abode of seven generations of his family and name. Out of its portals had issued numberless admirable men and women, and from among the former, a large share of college graduates, at Harvard and other New England colleges, of lawyers, clergy, and soldiers, to do good service in their day and generation.

At his suggestion, I visited this ancient dwelling which was erected about 1649, by Mr. Somerby, the widow of whose progenitor Tristram Coffin, Jr., married. This Tristram was the eldest son of another Tristram, first of the race in America, who not many years before, in 1642, came over from Brixton, near Plymouth, in Devonshire, bringing with him his mother, and two sisters,--Eunice who married William Butler, and Mary who became the wife of Alexander Adams, of Boston. He brought with him also several sons and daughters, to whom were added others born to him on this side the ocean. His family in the home country had shown the same tenacity and steadfastness, exemplified by their long continued residence at Newburyport; for at Alwington and Portledge in Devon, they had flourished, if not from the flood, from periods very remote; for according to the historical statement, the Normans when they came over in the eleventh century found them there, and left them unmolested; and there still dwell their descendants in the female line, who have assumed their appellation of Pine Coffin, one of the house of Pine having married the heiress of the family estates.

Tristram the elder, and his sons James and Stephen, were among the nine who purchased the island of Nantucket from the Earl of Stirling in 1659, and went there to dwell. Their descendants have ever since been respectable and greatly multiplied, and not only on that island but all over the country, having since been estimated by thousands if not tens of thousands. Their usual average of children has been half a score, and from their numerous progeny and great longevity, we may judge what vigor was in the race. One of them, William, son of Nathaniel, son of James, cruised over many seas, as commander of a merchantman, and becoming interested in a Boston maiden, Ann Holmes, settled about 1720 in the provincial capital, where among other offices he filled with credit to himself and his name was that for many years of warden of Trinity Church. He died before the Revolution, leaving many children; most of his sons at that period becoming refugee loyalists, they and their descendants taking high rank in the British military and naval service. John, son of Nathaniel, was a distinguished officer in the Carolinas, and afterwards became Major-general. His brother, Sir Isaac, early became distinguished on the ocean, was an Admiral, Member of Parliament, and created a Baronet, which latter rank was also bestowed on Thomas Astor, son of William, the eldest son of the warden. Several others of the name and blood then and since have filled with distinction posts of honor and respectability in the civil service of the mother country at home, in Canada, and in India.

But this is a digression. The only connection of the Nantucket branch with Newbury is that old Tristram lived there for a brief period, before repairing to his island home, and his son (the younger of the name of Tristram, the family name of a grandmother) and his posterity occupied the old mansion down through seven or eight generations, and still dwell beneath its roof. At the time of its erection the edifice must have been among the most elegant, as its good state of preservation proves it to have been one of the most substantial of its day, when the notion, prevailing in England, that oak was the most suitable material of the forest for dwellings, governed in their choice, with less reason, our American planters. It was built in the mode common to the period, round a vast brick chimney-stack, ten or twelve feet square. The principal apartment, now divided into two, possessed, as did also the kitchen, one of those spacious fireplaces which are the marvel and envy of these degenerate days, when a hole in the carpet has superseded in many households the family hearth. It is pleasant to think of the groups that in the olden time clustered around them; charming people, whom we know by tradition, and who are remembered by many associations.

The house possesses various other apartments of size and pretension, and has answered well the needs of the successive generations that have occupied it, not only as a spacious and commodious abode, but one sufficiently elegant to satisfy the advancing standards of taste and refinement. Among the marked features of the building are several small casements, lighting closets and staircases, which give variety to the monotonous symmetry of windows all of a size, one on top of another, and where all the openings for egress or light are in straight lines and of equal dimensions. It is many years since my visit, and I hope you will see it, for much that was peculiar, and made a weird impression at the time, has passed out of mind. If the trickles in my own veins do not mislead, the present proprietors will be glad to have pleasure afforded to the reading community, even by this inadequate description of a house which has such claims to be known, if, as you intimate, you purpose to place this account of it in your Appendix. They will not consider it a liberty if I repeat what some one not long since told me of an interesting relic of the past discovered on its walls, a statement which might be related almost in the same words of the house of MacPhaedrics at Portsmouth.

Not many years since it was concluded to repaper the hall, the walls of which were covered with several thicknesses of paper which had from generation to generation been pasted one upon another. It was thought best to remove them all, and when a large party of young people, home for the holidays, were gathered for a dull week of weather under its roof, they determined to amuse themselves by stripping off the various layers of previous decorations, preparatory to the new one intended to take their place. Underneath them all was discovered, painted on the wall, artistic designs of figures and foliage, such as were common in the days of the Stuarts. All antiquarians are familiar with the similar discoveries at Portsmouth, to which allusion has been made.

There are not many houses in America which have been so long owned and occupied by the same name. The old brick mansion near Portsmouth, of the Weeks family, the Curtis house at Boston Highlands, Fairbanks at Dedham, Pickering at Salem, were contemporaries in the period of the construction, and have descended from sire to son as has this of the Coffins.

The house is pleasantly placed, and commands fine views from its windows. Even in winter it must be, if not a cheerful, an interesting abode to dwell in. In duller days, when skies are leaden, and the more you see around you the less you like it, its dreamy look of age and strangeness within and without may have a somewhat depressing influence. The aches and agonies of so many generations may gain an ascendancy over the exuberant joys that made their life worth living. It would sometimes seem that if fondness for the supernatural must be indulged, an old edifice like this would prove a haunt more attractive, and certainly more appropriate, for ghost and apparition than any school-room, however noted for its spells. Yet notwithstanding some lugubrious associations connected with the family patronymic, phantoms would have to tread softly and whisper low if they invaded its precincts; for the vigorous vitality of its occupants and their cheery tones, if up to the traditional standard of their race, would exorcise the very king of spectres himself, should he venture to stalk about at the noonday, or revisit the glimpses of the moon in its ancient chambers.

VI.

I might have mentioned, as one of the amusements of childhood, the throwing of a piece of paper upon the embers of our wood-fire, for we had no coal in those days, and watching the gradual extinguishment of the sparks, likening it to a congregation entering the meeting-house. "There they go in," we would say. "There's the minister;" and as the final spark disappeared,--"Now, the sexton has gone in and shut the door." I speak of this only as a curious illustration of English ways traditionally surviving in New England. Thus Cowper tells us:--

"So when a child, as playful children use, Has burnt to tinder a stale last year's news, The flame extinct, he views the roving fire,-- There goes my lady, and there goes the squire; There goes the parson, O illustrious spark! And there, scarce less illustrious, goes the clerk!"

VII.

Several allusions having been made in the text to the "Wolfe" Tavern, I am able to present the following original bill of lading, constituting an incident in relation to the famous expedition to Quebec, and evincing at least a more formal recognition of a superintending Providence, than is the custom of more modern days:--

12 Oxen, 6 Horses, No. 29 to 32. 4 Hogshd. Corn, 10 Baggs Corn, 10 Baggs Meal, 2 Carts with Furniture, 500 feet Boards, 1 pr. Smiths Bellows, 1 Box Smiths Tools, 1 Anvil, 1 Camp Kettle 10 Ox Yokes, 70 Bundles of Hay, 2 Handpumps, 18 Pails, 4 Tubbs, 2 Shovells, 4 Barr's Water, Settled.

Shipped by the Grace of God in good Order and well Condition'd by Thomas Hancock, by order of His Excell'cy Major General Amherst, in and upon the good sloop call'd the "Endeavour," whereof is Master under GOD, for this present Voyage, William Clift, and now riding at Anchor in the Harbour of Boston, and by God's Grace bound for The Expedition up the River St. Lawrence, to say, Twelve Oxen, Six Horses, Four Hogshead and Ten Bags of Corn, Ten Bags of Meal, two Carts with their Furniture, Five hundred feet of Boards, One Pair Smiths Bellows, One Box Smiths Tools, One Anvill, One Camp Kettle, Ten Ox Yokes, Seventy Bundles of Hay, Two handpumps, Eighteen pails, Four Tubbs, Two Shovells, Four Barrells Water; being mark'd and number'd as in the Margin, and to be delivered in the like good Order, and well Condition'd, at the aforesaid Port of ---- (the Danger of the Seas only excepted) unto His Excell'cy Major General Wolfe, or to his Assigns,----or they paying Freight for the said Goods----Nothing----with Primage and Average accustom'd. In Witness whereof the Master or Purser of the said sloop hath affirmed to Two Bills of Lading, all of this Tenor and date; the one of which Two Bills being accomplished, the other one to stand void. And so GOD send the good sloop to her desired Port in Safety, _Amen_. Dated in

BOSTON, _May 14, 1759_.

WILL^{M}. CLIFT.

VIII.

On my occasional visit to Boston, I usually put up at the Eastern Stage House, perhaps because it was there that the stage-coach by which I arrived at the city discharged its passengers. It was an old fashioned establishment, which but for the absence of galleries, might remind one of the famous Tabard Inn, from which Chaucer's pilgrims set out. For its capacious yard, in which the passengers alighted, and where they remounted for their homeward journey, was approached through a narrow cross street, and in its ample stables the stage-horses took their rest and refreshment. The front entrance to the tavern was under an archway on Ann street, loyally named for the old queen; for which title was not long ago senselessly substituted the unsuggestive appellation of North street. It has long since given place to more modern edifices. It was a comfortable place of temporary residence, and in illustration of former manners I remember one practice which I have never seen elsewhere. At the plate of each guest, at dinner, was placed a small decanter of brandy, holding I suppose half-a-pint of that liquor, and for which no extra charge appeared in the bill, which account itself was moderate enough compared with the inordinate hotel reckonings of the present day.

IX.

In small matters, as well as in great, history repeats itself. Thus, the anachronic emotion of Miss ---- (on page 17) finds its parallel in "Facetiae Poggii," written at Florence, in the year 1450, of which the following story is one:--

"Cyriac of Ancona, a wordy man and much given to talk, was once deploring in our presence the fall and ruin of the Roman empire, and seemed to be vehemently grieved at it. Then Anthony Lusco, a most learned man, who also stood by, said, jeering at the silly grief of the fellow, 'He is very like a man of Milan, who, hearing on a feast day one of the race of minstrels, who are wont to sing the deeds of departed heroes to the people, reciting the death of Roland, who was slain about seven hundred years before in battle, fell at once a-weeping bitterly, and when he got home to his wife, and she saw him sad and sighing, and asked what was the matter, "Alas! alas! wife," he said, "we are as good as dead and gone." "Why, man," she answered, "what dreadful thing has befallen you? Take comfort and come to supper." But he, when he went on sobbing and sighing, and would take no food, and his wife pressed him to tell the cause of his woe, at last said, "Don't you know the bad news I have heard to-day?" "What?" asked the wife. "Roland is dead, who alone was the safeguard of Christendom." On which his wife tried to soothe the silly grief of her husband, and yet, with all her tenderness, could scarce get him to sit down to meat.'"[13]

The effect of the ballad, however, upon the worthy man of Milan reminds one of the historical incident, recording the effect of song, celebrated anew in one of the stanzas of Childe Harold:--

"When Athens' armies fell at Syracuse, And fettered thousands felt the yoke of war, Redemption rose up in the Attic Muse, Her voice their only ransom from afar; See! as they chant the tragic hymn, the car Of the o'ermastered victor stops: the reins Fall from his hands--his idle scimitar Starts from its belt--he rends his captives' chains, And bids them thank the bard for freedom and his strains."

X.

The ancestor of Colonel Edward Wigglesworth, mentioned in the text, an officer of the Revolution, highly esteemed by Washington, was Rev. Michael Wigglesworth, author of "The Day of Doom," published in the last quarter of the seventeenth century, and reprinted in London; a dreadfully dismal, but edifying poem, and not without a certain horrifying merit.

XI.

Were it within the scope of this work, I might furnish a catalogue, by no means meagre, of inhabitants formerly distinguished in their day and generation. For example, I have heard it stated as a curious fact, that, not far from the beginning of the present century, each of the three Professors of Harvard College, namely, Professors Webber, afterwards President; Pearson, and Toppan, were natives of Newbury.

XII.

I could hardly dismiss this volume from my hands without some reference to the means of public information furnished by the newspapers of the town. Of these, there have been, since "The Essex Journal," soon afterwards merged in "The Impartial Herald," and first published in 1773, between thirty and forty attempts to establish newspapers; but the "Herald," the successor of those before-named, for many years conducted as a semi-weekly journal, and since the year 1832 as a daily paper, has alone steadily maintained its ground. It has always been distinguished for the editorial ability displayed in its columns, and for a care bestowed upon its several departments, which gave it a high reputation, scarcely surpassed by that of leading journals in our larger cities.

"The Essex Journal" was begun by Isaiah Thomas, who in the course of a year sold his interest in it to Ezra Lunt; and he, after two years, obeying another call to public service, sold it to John Mycall. The first of these began life in the humblest condition, without schooling of any kind, it is alleged; taught himself to read and write, and after a time removed to Worcester, became connected with a noted paper there, the "Massachusetts Spy," at length accumulated a handsome fortune, for the times, much of which, after a long life, he bequeathed to the Antiquarian Society of Worcester, and a portion to Harvard College, and other literary institutions. He was the founder, also, of the American Antiquarian Society. He became a writer and educator of much repute.

Upon the breaking out of the Revolutionary war, Mr. Ezra Lunt was the first man who volunteered, in the meeting-house, when the minister, Rev. Mr. Parsons, exhorted his parishioners to military service; was chosen captain of the company, with which he was present in command at Bunker Hill, and afterwards was raised to the rank of major. He took part in the battle of Monmouth Court House, when the British army, under Sir Henry Clinton, retired with much difficulty and loss before Washington, and used to relate the particulars of the well-known rebuke administered by that great chief to General Charles Lee for his hasty retreat from the advanced post, which had been assigned him. He declared himself to have been close by at the moment, and to have heard the energetic language used on the occasion. After the war, he received his allotment of land, and settled upon it, at Marietta, Ohio.

Mr. Mycall was a person of much natural capacity and shrewdness, with certain eccentricities of character, and kept up a little politic mystery about himself. He once engaged a well-known carriage-maker of the day to build him a chaise, which it was agreed should be finished at a certain time. When the specified period arrived, the vehicle was not forthcoming. Enduring a similar disappointment several times, and expressing himself strongly about it to the offender, that individual promised it to him positively at a certain date, _if he was alive_. Even then, it was not delivered; but what was the astonishment of the faulty party to read in his newspaper the next morning, "Died, yesterday, P. B., chaise-maker," etc. In a state of boiling indignation he rushed to the street, and on the way to the office of publication called the attention of various acquaintances to the wrongful statement, which, it appeared, no one had observed. Entering the office, he inquired, with much feeling, how Mr. Mycall could have published such a paragraph. "Did you not promise me," said the editor, "that my chaise should be sent home, on such a day, if you were alive?" "Well, supposing I did?" "Why, then, of course, you must be dead!" Taking up a copy of the paper from his desk, and examining the obituary notices, "But," said the editor, "there is no such statement here." The bewildered chaise-maker hastened home to examine his paper anew; and it appeared, on inquiry, that the account of his decease was printed only in his own copy; a gloomy jest, which was soon much relished by the community.

Indeed, the town became for a time a noted place for the publication of standard works, and books of various descriptions. It was here that the well-known Mr. Edmund M. Blunt, who subsequently removed to the city of New York, published his valuable and famous "American Coast Pilot," and, afterwards, the no less useful "Practical Navigator."

XIII.

In attestation of the remark, on page 144 of the text, that an antiquated pronunciation of many English words prevailed long in New England, after it was disused in Old England, and was brought by the colonists from the Mother Country, see the criticism of "Holofernes" upon innovations in pronunciation, in Act V., Sc. 1, of "Love's Labor Lost," showing the state of the case in Shakespeare's time.

XIV.

In closing this Appendix, which might be extended to almost any length, as recollections which did not occur to me in writing the body of the work come up, I cannot omit a remarkable use of the American language, let us say, since the Czar once so denominated the English tongue. It was upon the part of a town constable, perhaps as nearly of the Dogberry type as could be imagined. I was standing in the town hall, at a moment preliminary to a public meeting. A knot of youngsters had been joking one another, when this authoritative official approached. All but one speedily retired before the awful presence. "Master Constable" addressed the lingerer: "_Disperge_,"--a difficult operation for an individual,--"_disperge_, I say; we can't have no _burlash_ here!"

Even Shakespeare might have been glad of such an opportunity to enlarge the cacology, by actual hearing, of some of his most amusing characters.

[13] Quoted in Dasent's "Jest and Earnest." London, 1873.

INDEX

Academy, of good standing, 137 Adams, J. Q., 134 Addison on English Superstition, 176 Adventure of American Sea-captain with Christophe, Emperor of Hayti, 61 "Algerines;" their Quarrel with Foreign Sailors, 74 Ancient Elder, 120 Ancient Episcopal Church; its former Rector, Bishop of Massachusetts, 114, 130 Apparition, an, 184 Aristocracy, 21 Aunt Judith, 23 Aunt Judith's Narrative of Witchcraft, 169

Balaklava Charge, 28 Bar, dangerous, 6 Bartlett, William, 33 Beggars, mimic, 106 Beverages, formerly, 96 Bishop Bass, 130 Bold Youngster, 165 Books, some that we read, 138, 139 Borderers, 74 Boyish Sports, 14 Bradbury, Judge, 34 British Orders in Council, 108 Bromfield Legacy, 18 Buchan, Earl of, 63

Campbell, "Tom," 27 Cannon for street posts, 58 Capen, Parson, 178 Characteristic Letter, 40 Christmas Evening, 161 Christmas Hymn, 163 Christophe of Hayti, 61 Clergy of the town, 122 Clergyman, Scottish, 166 Collector Marquand, 37 Collector Wigglesworth, 36 Comparative value of money, 21 Congregation, "Scrupulous," 122 Consequences of war and embargo, 57 Court of Common Pleas, 83 Cunning expedient, 22

Dalton, Tristram, 34 Damage of war, 38 Dana, Rev. Dr., 128 Dangerous bar, 6 Devil's den, 15 Dexter, "Lord," 63 Dexter's poet, 66 Dinah for Diana, 145 Discourse of Rev. Mr. Murray, 99 Dissatisfied washerwoman, 104 Dogberry and Verges, 198 Domestic, Scottish, 104

Earl of Buchan, 63 Earthquakes in former times, 113 Edinburgh, similar habits in, 10 Elder, an old-fashioned, 120 Emperor of Hayti, 61 English Clergymen, 124 English Reader. Are modern text-books as useful?, 137 English superstition, 176 Enterprise, Maritime and Commercial, 5 Extraordinary images, 63

Failure, swindling, 103 Favor, Johnny: his opinion of polemics, 133 Few insane persons, and the treatment of them formerly, 45 Fights of boys, 10 Fine trees, 17 Fire, strange, 190 Fire, the "great," 103 Foot-warming process, 118 Former Rector of St. Paul's a Bishop, 130 Former severe winters, 1 Former solemn proceedings in naturalization, 110 Fourth of July, 98 Fright of an old woman, 100 Fugitive Sea-captain and a lively chase, 58

Ghost, reputed, 180 Gould, Miss Hannah F., 31 Gourmand, a, 98 Great Fire, 103 Greys, Silver, 56 Grouse, Old, story of, 146 Growth of Episcopal Church, 130

Habits in Edinburgh, 10 Habits, jovial, of old times, 96 Hardships of early times, 40 Hay-time treating, 109 "Hinx-minx," origin of, 174 Hohenlinden, 28 Holt, Granny, 169 Home, return to, 202 How they used to "break," 103 Huntington, Countess of, and her Seminary, 124 Hymn, Christmas, 163

Images, extraordinary, 63 Indifference to cold, 119 Inquisitive spinster, 123 Insane persons, few, 45 Internal trade, 67 Introductory chapters to Scott's novels, 159

Jackson family, 24 James, King of Scotland, 106 Johnson, Samuel, Dr., 26 "Joppa Jine," 144 Jovial habits of old times, 109 Judith, Aunt, 23 July 4th, 98

King James of Scotland, 106 King Louis Philippe, 4 King, Rufus, 135

Lee, Mrs. George, 31 Longfellow, 32 Lowells, The, 24

Magistrate and culprit, 51 Mansions, remarkable, 18 Manufacturing establishments, 4 Maritime enterprise, 5 Market Square, triangular, 66 Marquand, Collector, 37 Massachusetts, Diocese of, 130 Meeting-houses--stoves and organs, 118 Merchant, rich, 34 Milton, Rev. Mr., 124 Mimic beggars, 106 Money, comparative value of, 21 "Moses is come!," 100 Murray, Rev. Mr., 99 Murray's Reader, 137

Naturalization, etc., 110 New England pronunciation, 144 New England superstition, of old, 160 Novelist, English, his surprise, 9 Nutting, etc., 14

Old-fashioned hospitality in beverages, 109 "Old Grouse," story of, 146 Old Peddlers, 67 Old Woman, fright of, 100 Orders in Council, British, 108 Organ of St. Paul's, 118 Origin of "Hinx-Minx," 174 Our Town, 5

Paine, Robert Treat, 134 Parson, Capen, 178 Parsonage and its curious picture, 52 Parsons, Chief Justice, 134 Particular Shoemaker, 48 Peabody, George, 33 Peace of 1783, 99 Peddlers, old, 67 People of St. James's, 131 Perkins, Jacob, 25 Personal part of leading citizens in politics, 94 Persons, distinguished, 34 Picture, curious, 52 Pike, Nicholas, 25 Polemics, 132 Political hostilities, 55 Poultry in profusion, 67 Practice, modern, of naturalization, 110 Professional persons, etc., 83 "Project," what it is, 174 Putnam, Oliver, 33

Quaker meeting, 136 Queer contrast of language, 61

Railways and their influence, 142 Ramsay, Dean, and others, Reminiscences of, 10 Reader, Murray's English, 137 Reading parties, 142 Refinement of certain classes, 133 Reputed apparition, 192 Respect for the clergy, 29 "Retort courteous," 27 Rev. Dr. Dana, 128 Rev. Mr. Milton, 124 Rev. Dr. Morse, 131 Rev. Mr. Murray, 122 Rev. Dr. Spring, 29 Richard, Uncle, 162

Sabbath, how kept, 120 Sailing adventure, 7 "Salt," ancient, 3 Saturday and Sunday evenings, 30 Scenery on the river, 5 School books, etc., 137 Schoolmaster, a shrewd, 140 Scott's Autobiography, 10 Scott's reply to certain critics, 159 Scottish domestic, cool and faithful, 104 "Scrupulous" congregation, 122 Scrupulous shoemaker, 48 Severe winters, 1 Shipbuilding, etc., 5 Silver Greys, 56 Singular companion, 168 Singular night adventure, 87 Snow-storm in old times, 2 Social security, 85 Stage-house, 53 St. James's, 143 Story of an apparition, 179 Story of bold youngster, 165 Stove in Church, 118 Street fights of boys, 10 Striking adventure of Rufus King, 135 Surprise of Thackeray, 9 Swett and Schwedt, 30 Swindling failure, 103 Sympathetic young lady, 17

Tennyson's "Charge at Balaklava," 28 Text instead of sermon, 119 "Thanks be to Praise!," 202 Thanksgiving, 105 Timber and shipbuilding, 5 "Tom" Campbell, 27 Topsfield spectre, 177 Town-meeting and resolute chairman, 96 Trade, internal, of the town, 67 Traders, small, 67 Treating in hay-time, 109 Trees of great beauty, 17 Triangular Market Square, 66 Tyng Family, 24

Uncle Richard, 162 United States after a runaway, 58 Unterrified clergyman, 166

Verges and Dogberry, 198 Vulgarian of the nouveaux riches, 62

Wages, low rate of, 23 Walsh, Michael, 25 What a "project" is or was, 174 Wheelwright, William, 32 Whipping-post, 123 Wigglesworth, Colonel, 36 Winters, severe formerly, 1 Witchcraft, and Uncle Richard's opinion of it, 167 Wood's account of the aristocracy., 21

Yankee acuteness, 141 Young persons sent to the town for education, 134

Transcriber's Notes:

Archaic, variable, and misspelled words and punctuation inconsistancies have been preserved as printed in all of the quoted material with one exception. This includes all poetry, quotations, letters, and documents.

The one exception is in the poem Childe Harold, a section of which is quoted in the Appendix, Section IX. The word =scimeter= was changed to =scimitar= because it is spelled correctly in the original poem by Lord Byron located at PG, EText-No. 5131, Canto IV, Stanza XVI.

The following changes were made to the original text. The correction is enclosed in brackets:

Page 106: and they skurried away [scurried]

Page 116: but the fact incontestibly proves, [incontestably]

Page 187: My mother was in close attendance upon sick members of my sister's family? [changed punctuation to a period]

Page 230: Fall from his hands--his idle scimetar [scimitar]

The following word has been found in both hyphenated and unhyphenated form in the original text: road-side (roadside). The original hyphenation has been preserved.

Footnotes have been numbered consecutively and have been placed at the end of each chapter.

Superscripted letters in the original book and the HTML version are represented by ^{} in the text version.

The "long i" macron is respresented in the text as [=i].