LOH He 
build a small-pox hospital there. After the erection of 
the building, more small-pox cases broke ‘out, until the 
Marblehead: people feared an epidemic, and the greatest 
intensity of feeling arose against “Castle Pox,” as they 
ironically named the hospital on Cat Island. The crisis 
came early in 1775, when on the night of January 
twenty-sixth, a party of men, carefully disguised, row- 
ed over to the island and burned the hospital to the 
ground. That animosity was not soon forgotten, how- 
ever, seems to be evidenced by the treatment of a man 
named Clark, who, some time after, brought some cloth- 
ing to the mainland from the island. .The citizens were 
so incensed by his action that they took hin from his 
bed at night, and tied him to the public whipping post, 
where he was unmercifully beaten. 
An even more extravagant tale is connected with 
Charles’ Island. in Little Harbor.” The northwestern 
part of the island was leased to Edward Dimond, “shore- 
man,” for thirteen shillings a year. Being Sonian int of 
a recluse, he quickly became a man of mystery in the 
eyes of the quaint folk of y® town® of Marblehead, who 
called him “Old Dimond,” and who supposed him to be a 
wizard. It was said that on windy, stormy nights, Old 
Dimond would go to the Burying Hill and, in the dark- 
ness, “beat about” among the gravestones, and, in a voice 
to be heard on the mainland, even above the roar of the 
storm, would En orders for his ships at sea. Woe be- 
tide the man who dared disobey Old Dimond’s directions, 
for wreckage and sorrow speedily overtook him! His 
reputation as a wizard travelled until he was sought by 
people from distant places for advice, and Old Dimond 
never failed to help the honest and the righteous. ‘The 
dishonest were quickly discouraged from visiting him, 
for his discernment of their sins was immediate and fol- 
lowed by punishment of a novel nature. A_ favorite 
example of this was his treatment of a luckless fellow, 
who came to him for advice after stealing wood from 
a poor widow. Old Dimond “charmed” him and, to 
make the punishment fit the crime, caused him to carry 
a heavy log of wood on his shoulder the whole night 
through. 
It is a far cry from the beautiful “Mystery Isles” 
of today to the “Moulton’s Misery’ of yesterday. The 
Miseries, as the larger and smaller islands were called 
for many years, lie off West Beach at Beverly Farms, 
and have figured in New England annals from the time 
aa 
FE 
900€}-00 
NORTH SHORE BREEZE and Reminder 
May 7, 1915 
of Governor Winthrop, when he refers in his Journal to 
Little Misery, as “Little Isle.” In his “Annals of Salem,” 
Joseph B. Felt wrote that Salem had instructed the 
selectmen to see if “payment had been made for Moul- 
ton’s Misery.” Bentley’s “Description of Salem” (1790) 
says the island was “early called Moulton’s Misery from 
a shipwreck.” It seems more than possible that this 
was so, for the passageway between the Miseries and 
saker’s Island, through which the ships were obliged to 
pass, was narrow and unlighted, and to miss it was cer- 
tain destruction. 
It has been, moreover, a common practice wherever 
ships have sailed the seas, to name rocks, reefs and 
ledges for wrecks, and the North Shore is replete with 
such instances, as witness, Norman’s Woe, Rising States 
Ledge, Avery’s Rock, and Bowditch’s Ledge. Whether 
the “Moulton” was directly connected with the wreck, 
of whether it was simply the name of a family who lived 
on the island at the time, or afterwards, will probably 
never be known now that the mist of years has enveloped 
the truth so long. J have read somewhere that the name 
is associated with Robert Moulton, a master ship-car- 
penter, who was sent over by London adventurers in 
1629. He had a descendant who was Secretary of War 
under President McKinley. It is certain that Robert 
Mouton never owned, nor occupied, the island, but it is 
believed that he may have leased it for ship-timber. 
However the Miseries may have obtained their 
name, it is certain that they have had a history that has 
been ever interesting, ever varied. After the Court of 
Assistants had made all islands public property in 1631, 
Thomas Tyler, a son of the Mascononemet, who sold 
the town of Ipswich to the white settlers, asserted claim 
to part of Misery Islands in spite of the decree of the 
Court, and he conveyed Greater Misery to Bartholomew 
Gale. The action was never recognized by the town 
authorities, however, who in 1678, leased the Miseries to 
Captain George Corwin. The ‘oregaa of Captain Cor- 
win’s beautiful and valuable summer home was the be- 
ginning of a long period of gaiety and hospitality on 
Misery Island. It was probably the first resort of fash- 
ion along the North Shore, and their balls and parties 
must have been all that was courtly and ceremonious in 
colony life. The pity is that in the winter of 1782 the 
house was as completely and mysteriously decaolished as 
if evil spirits had infested the island. The reasonable 
G00€}00 = 00-3000 
S00€}00 
Showing Island off Danas Beach, Manchester, 
