Ro Ra 
SHORE BREEZE 
AND REMINDER 
‘Vol. XIV 
Manchester, Mass., Friday, June 23, 1916 
No. 25 
North Shore Legends 
HELENE SHERMAN 
_JN the good old days when witches were wont to 
oe 
...... weave at night 
Their magic spells with impish glee,” 
a Salem maid, Mary March, was married to William 
Brown; and: never did a finer match grace the records of 
-old Salem, for Mary was fair to look upon with laughing 
eyes and rosy cheeks, and William was the pride of the 
town. The pride of his mother, too, a widow, cross and 
old,.who hated the winsome girl, thinking that she ad 
stolen her son from her. ‘‘Marm Brown” was at no pains 
to conceal the fact of her dislike for her son’s wife and 
Mary had many an uncomfortable hour while Wilham, 
unnoticing, was at his work. As I have said, all this hap- 
pened in “that time when ghosts and witches flourished, 
and Mrs. Brown thought, “Poor Willie! This girl has 
cast a spell upon the lad. I'll keep a close watch, ‘and I'll 
soon catch her at her witchcraft.”” But Mary was a sim- 
ple, wholesome soul, whose whole life was centered in 
her husband and in her home, and Mrs. Brown’s watching 
availed her nothing. 
At last a morning came when Mary went about with 
shining eyes and a mysterious air, concocting a new disl). 
In ample time for the mid-day dinner the black pot was 
hung upon the crane over the open fire, and when the 
water was boiling Mary dropped in a long, white bag— 
and Marm Brown watched all the time with eager eyes. 
The family assembled, and when William had said grace, 
Mary bade him lift the cover from the pewter dish. ‘They 
beheld smooth, round dumplings, the like of which had 
never been seen before in old New England. 
“Why, what is this, little wife? I[t is not pudding 
SS) 
nor does it seem like bread,” said her husband, 
“O, cut one open, cut one open, William!” Mary 
cried, so delighted that she could hardly keep her seat 
while William, with a deft stroke of the knife, cut in 
halves a dumpling, disclosing an apple, cunningly hidden 
- within Quick as a flash of lighting, Marm Brown 
seized the dish and ran out of the door, locking it behind 
her. 
“Ts the woman mad?” gasped poor, bewildered 
William, but Mary with a woman's instinct of disaster, 
clang to him and buried her pale face in his shoulder. 
“Do not mind, dear. It is nothing. Me and my father 
-never.took much notice of her ways. The neighbors wiil 
tell you that her heart is pure gold within.” Already a 
crowd led on by Mrs. Brown, had gathered at the door. 
Parson Cook, who had married the young couple, was 
there, backed by a “brace of deacons.’ Mary’s rejected 
suitor, a great awkward fellow, was there, hovering near 
Marm Brown, and the girls of Salem, who had envied 
Mary her matrimonial prize, were there; in fact, there was 
hardly a soul the length and breadth of Salem, who had 
not come to see the downfall of Mary March. 
“Bring her out! Bring her out! The jade has be- 
witched you, William Brown, with ner unholy craft.” So 
spake Parson Cook. Mary freed herself from the pro- 
_tecting arm of her husband, gravely faced the mad crow(, 
and they took her away to jail to face trial as a witch, - 
but not before had fallen 
at’ their feet. 
Surely, the September sun has ne’er shone down on 
a stranger trial than that of Mary Brown at Salem that 
sunny, autumn afternoon. A broad, green field was the 
court-room the parson was the judge. He sat ona high rock, 
beneath it were Mrs. Brown and the twelve good church- 
men, .who were to serve as jurors. Since Mary’s dump- 
lings had brought her to this she would have to 
trust to them to free her. While the men built an open 
fire, the women gossiped. 
“Of course, it is not possible, the dough would boil 
away.” 
“Poor William Brown, the wench’s beauty 
bold ways have blinded him to her wickedness !” 
“For myself, | have known this long time that Mary 
William, 
bound and _ senseless, 
pass, 
and her 
March would not scorn to work woe upon those wao 
loved her.” . 
Meanwhile, a board, flour, apples, and a dish had 
been brought to Mary, who, nothing daunted, turned bacix 
her sleeves over her plump, white arms, set the dish 9n 
the bench right “beneath the parson’s nose,” and fell to 
work. She stirred the dough, and rolled it and patted it 
with confident touch. As. she folded in the apple, the 
parson watched with sour face, but thinking all the time, 
“Of all our cooks, surely she is the queen.’ None dared 
venture near the black kettle, so Mary, herself, sewe! 
the dumplings into a wicked-looking bag, and dropped 
them into the steaming water. 
“Half an hour!” thundered the judge. 
The twelve good men and true sat upon their benc’, 
and wrangled as to the proper way of “serving” a witci. 
One was sure that “to bag and boil” this one would ive 
saa justice; another of more literal mind insisted thst 
t barbecue was the only fitting method of disposing of 
as witch. Before the question was settled, the haif 
hour came to an end, and the judge, with the aid of a 
pair of tongs, took the bag out of the kettle, cut the hemp 
string, and there were the dumplings, as flaky and white 
and round as anyone could wish. Mary was free! 
“Bless. God,” she murmured as her good man held 
her half fainting in his arms. It was no time for faint- 
ing, however, for there had begun a rejoicing and a fes- 
tival. ‘There was passing around of sweet cider, of good, 
home-made bread, and even of Mary’s dumplings, an. 
there were congratulations showered upon the lucky 
wife. ‘Those who had been most sternly bent upon con- 
demning her, crowded about her whispering in her ear 
that they, at lez ist, had known her to be innocent. 
The story of Mz "y March is one of the little known 
witch les in fact, | do not remember having seen it in 
print but once, when I read it in verse many years ago. 
The following ghost story of Ipswich is not a common 
tale, and, like the experiences of Mary March, has ap- 
peared in black and white only once, and then in verse. 
On the pleasant road from Ipswich to Rowley stands 
the haunted house. If it isn’t haunted, it should be, for 
such a house owes something to the public. It is of the 
