14-former inhabitants and winter visitors-第1章

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　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Former　Inhabitants　and　Winter　Visitors



　　　　I　weathered　some　merry　snow…storms；　and　spent　some　cheerful

winter　evenings　by　my　fireside；　while　the　snow　whirled　wildly

without；　and　even　the　hooting　of　the　owl　was　hushed。　　For　many　weeks

I　met　no　one　in　my　walks　but　those　who　came　occasionally　to　cut　wood

and　sled　it　to　the　village。　　The　elements；　however；　abetted　me　in

making　a　path　through　the　deepest　snow　in　the　woods；　for　when　I　had

once　gone　through　the　wind　blew　the　oak　leaves　into　my　tracks；　where

they　lodged；　and　by　absorbing　the　rays　of　the　sun　melted　the　snow；

and　so　not　only　made　a　my　bed　for　my　feet；　but　in　the　night　their

dark　line　was　my　guide。　　For　human　society　I　was　obliged　to　conjure

up　the　former　occupants　of　these　woods。　　Within　the　memory　of　many

of　my　townsmen　the　road　near　which　my　house　stands　resounded　with

the　laugh　and　gossip　of　inhabitants；　and　the　woods　which　border　it

were　notched　and　dotted　here　and　there　with　their　little　gardens　and

dwellings；　though　it　was　then　much　more　shut　in　by　the　forest　than

now。　　In　some　places；　within　my　own　remembrance；　the　pines　would

scrape　both　sides　of　a　chaise　at　once；　and　women　and　children　who

were　compelled　to　go　this　way　to　Lincoln　alone　and　on　foot　did　it

with　fear；　and　often　ran　a　good　part　of　the　distance。　　Though　mainly

but　a　humble　route　to　neighboring　villages；　or　for　the　woodman's

team；　it　once　amused　the　traveller　more　than　now　by　its　variety；　and

lingered　longer　in　his　memory。　　Where　now　firm　open　fields　stretch

from　the　village　to　the　woods；　it　then　ran　through　a　maple　swamp　on

a　foundation　of　logs；　the　remnants　of　which；　doubtless；　still

underlie　the　present　dusty　highway；　from　the　Stratton；　now　the

Alms…House　Farm；　to　Brister's　Hill。

　　　　East　of　my　bean…field；　across　the　road；　lived　Cato　Ingraham；

slave　of　Duncan　Ingraham；　Esquire；　gentleman；　of　Concord　village；

who　built　his　slave　a　house；　and　gave　him　permission　to　live　in

Walden　Woods；　　Cato；　not　Uticensis；　but　Concordiensis。　　Some　say

that　he　was　a　Guinea　Negro。　　There　are　a　few　who　remember　his　little

patch　among　the　walnuts；　which　he　let　grow　up　till　he　should　be　old

and　need　them；　but　a　younger　and　whiter　speculator　got　them　at　last。

He　too；　however；　occupies　an　equally　narrow　house　at　present。

Cato's　half…obliterated　cellar…hole　still　remains；　though　known　to

few；　being　concealed　from　the　traveller　by　a　fringe　of　pines。　　It　is

now　filled　with　the　smooth　sumach　（Rhus　glabra）；　and　one　of　the

earliest　species　of　goldenrod　（Solidago　stricta）　grows　there

luxuriantly。

　　　　Here；　by　the　very　corner　of　my　field；　still　nearer　to　town；

Zilpha；　a　colored　woman；　had　her　little　house；　where　she　spun　linen

for　the　townsfolk；　making　the　Walden　Woods　ring　with　her　shrill

singing；　for　she　had　a　loud　and　notable　voice。　　At　length；　in　the

war　of　1812；　her　dwelling　was　set　on　fire　by　English　soldiers；

prisoners　on　parole；　when　she　was　away；　and　her　cat　and　dog　and　hens

were　all　burned　up　together。　　She　led　a　hard　life；　and　somewhat

inhumane。　　One　old　frequenter　of　these　woods　remembers；　that　as　he

passed　her　house　one　noon　he　heard　her　muttering　to　herself　over　her

gurgling　pot　　〃Ye　are　all　bones；　bones！〃　　I　have　seen　bricks　amid

the　oak　copse　there。

　　　　Down　the　road；　on　the　right　hand；　on　Brister's　Hill；　lived

Brister　Freeman；　〃a　handy　Negro；〃　slave　of　Squire　Cummings　once　

there　where　grow　still　the　apple　trees　which　Brister　planted　and

tended；　large　old　trees　now；　but　their　fruit　still　wild　and　ciderish

to　my　taste。　　Not　long　since　I　read　his　epitaph　in　the　old　Lincoln

burying…ground；　a　little　on　one　side；　near　the　unmarked　graves　of

some　British　grenadiers　who　fell　in　the　retreat　from　Concord　

where　he　is　styled　〃Sippio　Brister〃　　Scipio　Africanus　he　had　some

title　to　be　called　　〃a　man　of　color；〃　as　if　he　were　discolored。

It　also　told　me；　with　staring　emphasis；　when　he　died；　which　was　but

an　indirect　way　of　informing　me　that　he　ever　lived。　　With　him　dwelt

Fenda；　his　hospitable　wife；　who　told　fortunes；　yet　pleasantly　

large；　round；　and　black；　blacker　than　any　of　the　children　of　night；

such　a　dusky　orb　as　never　rose　on　Concord　before　or　since。

　　　　Farther　down　the　hill；　on　the　left；　on　the　old　road　in　the

woods；　are　marks　of　some　homestead　of　the　Stratton　family；　whose

orchard　once　covered　all　the　slope　of　Brister's　Hill；　but　was　long

since　killed　out　by　pitch　pines；　excepting　a　few　stumps；　whose　old

roots　furnish　still　the　wild　stocks　of　many　a　thrifty　village　tree。

　　　　Nearer　yet　to　town；　you　come　to　Breed's　location；　on　the　other

side　of　the　way；　just　on　the　edge　of　the　wood；　ground　famous　for　the

pranks　of　a　demon　not　distinctly　named　in　old　mythology；　who　has

acted　a　prominent　and　astounding　part　in　our　New　England　life；　and

deserves；　as　much　as　any　mythological　character；　to　have　his

biography　written　one　day；　who　first　comes　in　the　guise　of　a　friend

or　hired　man；　and　then　robs　and　murders　the　whole　family　

New…England　Rum。　　But　history　must　not　yet　tell　the　tragedies

enacted　here；　let　time　intervene　in　some　measure　to　assuage　and　lend

an　azure　tint　to　them。　　Here　the　most　indistinct　and　dubious

tradition　says　that　once　a　tavern　stood；　the　well　the　same；　which

tempered　the　traveller's　beverage　and　refreshed　his　steed。　　Here

then　men　saluted　one　another；　and　heard　and　told　the　news；　and　went

their　ways　again。

　　　　Breed's　hut　was　standing　only　a　dozen　years　ago；　though　it　had

long　been　unoccupied。　　It　was　about　the　size　of　mine。　　It　was　set　on

fire　by　mischievous　boys；　one　Election　night；　if　I　do　not　mistake。

I　lived　on　the　edge　of　the　village　then；　and　had　just　lost　myself

over　Davenant's　〃Gondibert；〃　that　winter　that　I　labored　with　a

lethargy　　which；　by　the　way；　I　never　knew　whether　to　regard　as　a

family　complaint；　having　an　uncle　who　goes　to　sleep　shaving　himself；

and　is　obliged　to　sprout　potatoes　in　a　cellar　Sundays；　in　order　to

keep　awake　and　keep　the　Sabbath；　or　as　the　consequence　of　my　attempt

to　read　Chalmers'　collection　of　English　poetry　without　skipping。　　It

fairly　overcame　my　Nervii。　　I　had　just　sunk　my　head　on　this　when　the

bells　rung　fire；　and　in　hot　haste　the　engines　rolled　that　way；　led

by　a　straggling　troop　of　men　and　boys；　and　I　among　the　foremost；　for

I　had　leaped　the　brook。　　We　thought　it　was　far　south　over　the　woods

　we　who　had　run　to　fires　before　　barn；　shop；　or　dwelling…house；

or　all　together。　　〃It's　Baker's　barn；〃　cried　one。　　〃It　is　the　Codman

place；〃　affirmed　another。　　And　then　fresh　sparks　went　up　above　the

wood；　as　if　the　roof　fell　in；　and　we　all　shouted　〃Concord　to　the

rescue！〃　　Wagons　shot　past　with　furious　speed　and　crushing　loads；

bearing；　perchance；　among　the　rest；　the　agent　of　the　Insurance

Company；　who　was　bound　to　go　however　far；　and　ever　and　anon　the

engine　bell　tinkled　behind；　more　slow　and　sure；　and　rearmost　of　all；

as　it　was　afterward　whispered；　came　they　who　set　the　fire　and　gave

the　alarm。　　Thus　we　kept　on　like　true　idealists；　rejecting　the

evidence　of　our　senses；　until　at　a　turn　in　the　road　we　heard　the

crackling　and　actually　felt　the　heat　of　the　fire　from　over　the　wall；

and　realized；　alas！　that　we　were　there。　　The　very　nearness　of　the

fire　but　cooled　our　ardor。　　At　first　we　thought　to　throw　a　frog…pond

on　to　it；　but　concluded　to　let　it　burn；　it　was　so　far　gone　and　so

worthless。　　So　we　stood　round　our　engine；　jostled　one　another；

expressed　our　sentiments　through　speaking…trumpets；　or　in　lower　tone

referred　to　the　great　conflagrations　which　the　world　has　witnessed；

including　Bascom's　shop；　and；　between　ourselves；　we　thought　that；

were　we　there　in　season　with　our　〃tub；〃　and　a　full　frog…pond　by；　we

could　turn　that　threatened　last　and　universal　one　into　another

flood。　　We　finally　retreated　without　doing　any　mischief　　returned

to　sleep　and　〃Gondibert。〃　　But　as　for　〃Gondibert；〃　I　would　except

that　passage　in　the　preface　about　wit　being　the　soul's　powder　

〃but　most　of　mankind　are　strangers　to　wit