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HOW SCHOOLPOP WORKS

08/10/2005    
S. M. Smoller     e-mail

The Higgins Middle School
has adopted the FISH philosophy.

 

This ancient building, situated near the Danvers monument, an engraved view of which may be seen in Barber's Historical Collections, is now partly demolished and will soon be entirely removed, with a view of having its site occupied by new and more sightly erections.  Long before the separation from the mother country, the colonists in their various wanderings sought this place for shelter and refreshment, and right glad was the jolly host to fulfill the promise of his signboard, "Entertainment for Man and Beast." 

Nor to the wayfarer alone was its promise extended.  This was the common center of resort for the villagers to learn the news of passing events and every traveler was expected to furnish his quota.  It was the village exchange where prices and everyday gossip were discussed, and the public affairs of the colonies and the mother country settled.  Here, too, on Sundays the more remote villagers dismounted from their beasts at the old horse-block, and walked to the meeting house, again to return after the two hours' sermon and partake in a snug corner of a dinner from their well-filled saddlebags. 

This was also the place where the people of that and later times met to celebrate public events.  The loyal neighbors here collected to mourn the demise of Good Queen Anne, and rejoice in the accession of the first George.  His departure and the rise of his son, George II, were here commemorated over the same bowl of punch.  George III was also welcomed with a zeal that was only equaled by that with which they drank confusion to his ministers.  The odious Stamp Act and all Parliamentary taxes on the colonists were patriotically denounced.  Tea was proscribed and its sale forbidden, under penalty of a ride on  rail and the brand of toryism.  One conviction only took place, and the unlucky wight obtained a reprieve from his sentence, by furnishing the villagers with a bucket of punch.  His neighbors kindly gave him a share of the beverage, obliging him to repeat over his cup, three times, the following elegant couplet:

  I, Isaac Wilson, a tory I be;
  I, Isaac Wilson, I sell tea.

But our ancestors, however, willing from patriotic considerations to deny themselves this luxury, found great difficulty in preventing the gentler sex from partaking the forbidden fruit.  They found means to procure and opportunities to prepare their favorite nectar, in spite of all the vigilance of the men.  They would evade every searching operation, get up quiltings and other parties, where it was not expected men would be present, and sip their stolen sweets in secret.

It was well known at the tap court of the Bell Tavern that these proceedings were going on, and it was strongly suspected that a certain enormous coffee pot, a few sizes smaller than common light-house, had some agency in the business, as it was always seen migrating from place to place where the good dames held their meetings.  One evening a large party assembled at the house of one of their number; taking advantage of the well-known habits of the master of the house, who was never known to quit his seat at the ample fireplace of the inn, until his companions had departed, they resolved to enjoy their usual feast in security.  The great coffee pot, in which the tea had been previously put, was brought forward, the water added, and the whole left to simmer on the hearth.  The savory mess was now poured out, with many a sly joke at the expense of the men in general, and a compliment to Isaac in particular.  Many were the encomiums on the superiority of the tea, which every one declared was the best she had ever drank.  It was finally thought that its strength and flavor were owing to its having been boiled and steeped longer than usual.  Its extraordinary richness was almost intoxicating; tongues were loosened and mirth and hilarity prevailed.  Their wits ran out and so did the tea.  More water was added to the leaves and a 
weaker concoction was drawn, until again the vessel was empty.  A third time the water was poured in and the tea ran out.  The time had now nearly arrived when by possibility the good man of the house might be expected home, and it was time to put the grounds in the coffee pot, for a place of burial must be made in the tan back of the fireplace for the remains of the tea.  The lid was removed, and with a mysterious jerk the contents, consisting not of tea leaves but a huge overgrown toad, speckled and bloated, lay sprawling before them on the hearth!  A simultaneous scream from twenty female voices, accompanied by the heaving of as many stomachs, announced the appalling discovery, and sufficiently explained the cause of the peculiar richness of their beverage.  It is said that the discovery accomplished the effects that are said to have been produced by Chamber's medicine on another class of drinkers, and that for some time after tea was less in demand than it was ever before known in the village.

The old Bell Tavern was also a favorite resort for Negro parties of pleasure, when the bond and free, black and yellow sons of Africa came from all the neighboring towns and even from Boston, marching into the village in procession to the sound of military music, where they were received by an old sable resident, in the most approved style of Negro tactics, who conducted them to their quarters at the edge of the Bell.  It was at such times that every room resounded with joyous and boisterous merriment.  The long, loud laugh, such grinning rows of ivory, that proud array of sable beauty, such exuberance of lip, those protruding white eyes, and that uncombed mass of wool, all in contrast with the finery of their white dresses, presented a scene worthy of the pencil of a Hogarth or a Cruikshank.

Here congregated the village politicians and other loafers of the Middle Precinct.  How they watched the glowing embers where the loggerheads were heating, as they consulted over the public welfare, and with what pertinacity did they adhere to their arguments and their mugs of flip.  What floods of ale and oceans of punch there flowed to enliven the wits of the jolly roysterers on election days.  With what zest did they sail up and down the merry dance in the south room, to the music of Caesar's fiddle, and with what gusto would he give a ghastly smile as he deposited the shower of silver pieces in his ghastly mouth.

It was at this inn that Col. Timothy Pickering's troops halted on their march to Bunker Hill, and here the soldiers were supplied with refreshments by a good Quaker dame, who pleaded the duties of humanity as an excuse for her patriotism, saying she would not encourage the warriors to fight, yet, she would invite them to eat.

Here, too, was the closing scene of the history of Eliza Wharton, a name interesting to the readers of romance as the heroine of the story bearing this assumed name.  It was at the window of the South Chamber that she used to sit and while away the heavy hours at her needle or guitar.  Her appearance here was a fruitful theme of wonder and mystery to the village gossips, and a most intense curiosity was roused in regard to the "strange lady" at the Bell Tavern.  This interest had so far increased at the time of her death that the last line of the inscription on her gravestone may be said to be true: "The tears of strangers watered her grave."  Her remains were attended to their present resting-place by almost the whole population of the village, as well as by many from the neighboring towns.  Her grave is now frequently visited by those who take an interest in her story, and the gravestones are nearly demolished by their anxiety to carry away some memento of their visit.  To such it may be satisfactory to learn that in removing one of the chimneys of the old house, in a small recess connected with the closet of her chamber, several articles have been recovered which possess some interest.  A small bundle of letters, as well as copies of those she wrote, are among the most important, as throwing additional light upon her history.  An old guitar, by the music of which her own voice was frequently accompanied as she sat alone in her chamber.  A small, old fashioned silver teaspoon, with the initials, "E.W." A curious, round pin ball, to which was attached a faded blue ribbon, such as used formerly to hand dangling from the wrists of dames of olden time, and several other articles of the toilet interesting to the curious.  Perhaps some of the letters may possess sufficient interest for publication, and it is presumed, in the meantime, that there can be no objection to having the originals examined by any who choose to do so, as well as the other articles, by applying to the store of Mr. Amos Trask near the monument.

(The Historical Collections of the Danvers Historical Society,  Volume, Year, page 9-12.)