The Ghosts of Cape Cod Page 8

  “What about the Big Water?,” Weaquaquet wondered.

  “Do not speak of it to the Chiefs, but the magic men have told me there are giant boats on the Big Water and they are coming to our shore. A giant boat is so big that it would take more than two hundred canoes to fill its belly."

  "This is why I must reveal myself to all the tribes and unify all my nations."

  Massasoit’s brothers Quadequina and Pokanoket were his main Sachems to the West (often Sachems were called Kings) - but he had at least seven other Sachems and dozens of minor leaders in all parts of the known world. Visiting every settlement would require Weaquaquet to devote as many as three seasons to his mission.

  “I will go as soon as you like my Chief. But I have met and fallen in love with Princess Scargo of the Nobscussetts. May I take her a gift from the rich-farm?”

  “You may take her anything,” the chief replied. “and when you return I will give you and Scargo a wedding next to rich-land right here in ‘end of the earth’. It will be a wedding fit for a sachem and his princess - for a king is what I will make you when you return from your mission, with all my chiefs.”

  Weaquaquet looked at ‘Yellow Feather’ and realized perhaps for the first time, that Massasoit would be spoken about by people for as long as there is campfire, and fellowship, and pipes to smoke. He had lived under the Chief’s protection for all his life but only just now realized what an incredible leader the huge, rock-faced man was.

  Weaquaquet's Gift

  Sunrise, the next morning, found Weaquaquet directing his braves loading supplies for the journey. The last thing they did before leaving was to go to the garden of ‘rich-land’ to find a present for the princess.

  Scargo sat by the small spring which was nearly dry as the end of the long-sun days approached. Slowly she ran her hand through her hair, lifted her arm and watched as the wind snatched it from her skin and blew black, silken strands straight out like so many arrows from a hunter’s bow.

  Her skin was the shade of the lightest of the maple leaves, in that time when they have changed color after the long-sun days, just before they are ready to fall off and signal the start of the white-blanket days - the dreary period when the village is covered by a cold, snowy shawl.

  The laziness of the hot day was erased by the bustle of a large group of warriors who entered Nobscussett bearing many bundles. At the head of the group was her handsome Weaquaquet.

  “We have brought food and skins and tools to help your people in the white-blanket days,” he told Scargo as his Braves began offering bundles to Chief Sagem. “And I have something special for you. If you accept it, then it will seal our engagement. It will remind you of me and it will grow just as my love for you. When I return, we shall marry.”

  At that moment, from a clearing in the woods, six Braves appeared carrying a massive orange pumpkin. It was as wide as a cow is long and almost as tall. The huge vegetable was placed in front of Scargo who examined it.

  The pumpkin had been hollowed out and filled with water. Swimming inside were four shimmering fish.

  “I will be back when these fingerlings are the size of your hand. Will you wait for me?”

  “I will,” replied the beautiful princess. “I will keep these silvery creatures alive and growing like my love for you.”

  Forging the Alliance

  After dining and smoking a pipe with Sagem, Weaquaquet and his warriors left on their mission. Through knee deep snow in short-sun, and blistering heat in long-sun; the men followed Yellow Feather’s directive.

  They traveled to village after village laying the groundwork for the historic alliance - that in future would save the people from slaughter by the big-boat people.

  The magic men said that the strangers could carry in their hands, fire-sticks so powerful, one burst could do the work of 25 arrows in bringing down a fox, a bear or a moose.

  The Nobscussett are Dying

  For her part, Scargo, fed the fish every day through the short sun and into the long-sun that followed. As the fish began to grow, the massive pumpkin, grown in the magic earth of rich-land, began to deteriorate. She released the fish into the village’s tiny spring.

  The long-sun days wore on. After two moons, the spring was almost dry and the four fish had barely enough water to keep covered. One morning when she went out to the spring she saw to her horror that one of the shimmering fish had died. The next morning another was lifeless.

  “Father, Father,” she moaned. “Please come to the Spring. Please help me. My fish are dying.”

  “I don’t know what to do daughter,” Sagem said sadly. “It has been many moons since your Weaquaquet left. Do you really believe he is coming back?”

  Through sobs and tears that ran the length of her face, Scargo wept, “He’s coming. He will be here before the arrival of short-sun days. But we must keep the fish alive,” she begged.

  One of Scargo's tears fell from her eye, ran down to her chin and dropped into the water of the spring causing a small ripple that drew both remaining fish to it.

  They nibbled at the salty tear and began joyfully splashing in the inch or two of water that remained. Before the tear, they had been dull and lifeless, but after touching the ripple of the tear, the fish shimmered anew.

  Never a man moved much to talk, or to action - Sagem found inspiration in the weeping and in the fish.

  He knew in an instant what he had to do.

  Running to the large rock next to the spring, he leaped on top of it like a young panther and shouted: “People of Nobscusset, Our spring is dying, our fish were almost lifeless and in two or maybe three days time, we will have no water and our whole nation will die.”

  Surprised villagers gathered around the rock to listen to their chief. It was the first time in anyone’s memory the sachem had ever spoken like a chief and the first time for sure that he had mounted the rock--that long ago with other chiefs, had been a council rock.

  “My daughter is crying big tears. She weeps for Weaquaquet who is far away. She cries for the fish who have no water, and for the tiny village of Nobscussett. But today, we will save our nation. We will transform our little spring into a lake. Our strongest bowman will shoot an arrow from the edge of the spring. Where that arrow lands will be the other end of our lake. We will get clam shells from the Big Water and dig our lake into the shape of a fish. When we are done, we will have a lake big enough to revive our tribe and make it grow.”

  “Chief Sagem, how will we fill this lake with water?,” several of the people asked at once.

  “We will fill it with my daughter’s tears. It will rise to the level of the shore and will never go dry,” Sagem affirmed.

  In three days of digging with clamshells, the one hundred men, women and children of the Nobscussett nation did indeed dig Scargo Lake and like a miracle - in the hot, dry afternoon - Scargo's lake swelled with clear, cold water. It filled to the top and changed the Princess's tears to laughter.

  The Proof of Scargo Lake?

  The two fish not only survived but multiplied. Their descendants swim in Scargo Lake today. Weaquaquet returned from his mission and helped ‘Yellow Feather’ form a strong alliance that would hold for more than three score years. The alliance kept all the people safe from the big-boat strangers.

  The alliance helped the strangers just when the land was about to defeat them and send them back across the big water.

  Some of the elders say even today (almost 400 years later) that the Strangers never would have survived if it had not been for the help of Massasoit.

  The young lovers married and had many children. Both survive today in spirit at their lakes. Weaquaquet at his, in what is called Centerville and Scargo in her lake in the town of Dennis.

  I have never seen the ghost of Princess Scargo or Weaquaquet. Yet, sitting alongside her quiet lake, I have on numerous occasions had unusual feelings of peace and contentment.

  Many visitors to the pond express similar sentiments. Locals who live
on the shores of the pond, as well as visitors, often remark that while they are swimming or resting on the sand, they sense a certain magical feeling and though they cannot claim to see her, they feel Scargo’s presence.

  As to the lake itself, the legend says that it was hollowed out by clamshell and filled with the tears of Scargo. The scientists say that glaciers dug and filled her lake.

  In the early 1900’s a stone tower was built. It still stands today. For free, you can go up the 28 foot tower which rests at the top of one of the tallest hills in all of Cape Cod.

  The legend says that hill was made from the dirt scooped out by the clamshells when the lake was made by Scargo and her family. Scientists doubt that. They believe that a glacier gouged out the lake.

  A question for the scientists. Why is Scargo Hill nearly the only steep hill in the middle of Cape Cod - as well as its tallest?

  There are dozens of other lakes in the area but none has a hill beside it! The legend says that the Nobscussetts created the hill from the dirt they scooped out when they were digging the lake.

  One thing is for sure….if you go up to the top of Scargo tower and look out over the sea, you can see all the way to Provincetown almost forty miles distant.

  You can see the famous Provincetown Monument erected to commemorate the Pilgrims landing there and meeting Yellow Feather himself in 1620.

  You can see miles and miles out upon the big-water. You can see where Cape Cod is connected by three bridges to the state of Massachusetts.

  Oh yes….you can see something else

  Just as in the legend: Scargo Lake is in the shape of one of the fish that Weaquaquet gave to his princess!

  I don’t believe that the scientists have a theory on that!

  Scargo’s Lake, with the Big Water in the rear.

  I’ve said that I have never seen the ghost of Princess Scargo, yet have felt an usual sense of serenity while visiting her lake. During a fierce storm a few years ago, I had another experience that does not prove the magical qualities of the lake or of Scargo, but was fascinating and certainly out of the sphere of ‘normalcy’.

  Like many Cape Codders, I love a good Nor’easter. More than one time, I have found myself clinging onto the rocks of a jetty on Haigus Beach in Dennis Port - in gale winds with seas as high as the roof of a car, to take a picture. Sometimes, just to get a close-up breath of the storm soaked air.’’

  It is truly awe inspiring to drive your car to the parking lot of West Dennis Beach during a ferocious display of nature’s nasty temper. The road at the beach, runs like an island through the sand for a full mile, with ocean in front and behind.

  If you drive to the end of the parking lot and face your vehicle towards Hyannis, the torment soon makes you forget that you are in a car as the heavy wind buffets you from all sides. On occasion the cyclonic wind lifts your car an inch or so in the air and rocks it from side to side.

  Visibility is limited to a hundred feet or less. The road disappears as whitecaps wash over it. This experience of being in your vehicle while the storm bashes it, is as close as you can get to the seafaring experience the ancient salts had while riding out such a storm in a three masted schooner of old.

  In recent years, because of gale loving fools like me, the local police departments have begun closing the gates of the Cape Cod beaches during bad weather – preventing the storm riding that I so much love.

  During a mini hurricane some years back, a friend and I tried to get into West Dennis beach but its heavy iron gates would not allow my car to get by. It was the same thing at Sea Street Beach, and Corporation Beach, Even the unguarded, tiny Depot Street Beach was blocked off.

  We decided to head for fresh water and Scargo Beach. Success! The entrance to Scargo had not been barred. We drove to the parking lot and got out of the vehicle.

  Instantly, we noticed that we had left behind the torment of the hurricane. The waters of Scargo were almost as calm and mild as the laziest of summer days.

  In the distance we could see large trees doing the death dance with the gale force winds. But the trees surrounding Scargo were dancing nothing more than a gentle waltz, and the surface of the lake was nearly as smooth as glass. For more than an hour, my friend and I waded and swam in the warm water. We ate a picnic lunch before going back home to South Dennis.

  As soon as we drove out of the Scargo lot, it was as if we had left sanctuary. Toppled trees and limbs littered the roadway. They had fallen during the attack of gusts reaching more than 70 miles per hour. Power lines were down, ambulances, and repair crews were the only other vehicles on the road. Electrical power had been lost to most homes and businesses.

  And yet, Scargo Lake had been nearly as mild and gentle as a kitten. I know that this doesn’t really show that the area is endowed with magical powers, but the story is true and it was a delightful interlude in a fierce storm.

  Now, as promised here are the directions to the enchanted Nobscussett Burial Ground. Coming from the Mid-Cape Highway, Route six, take exit 9B. This will bring you to Route 134, the Cross-Dennis Highway. Continue on 134 until it ends at the Old King’s Highway, Route 6-A. Take a left turn. You’ll pass Scargo Hill Road, Paddock’s Path, Doctor Lord’s Road, and Seaside Avenue. Next, look for the Osprey Road sign-post. Affixed to the post, as shown in the photos, is the rectangular sign pointing the way to the grave site.

  Photo by Bill Russo

  Pull over to the side of the road when you see Osprey Lane, for you are as close to Scargo’s resting place as you can drive. Stand by the sign and look across the street. You will see the arboreal entrance.

  Photo by Bill Russo

  Park your car on the side of the road and walk through the verdant arch and you will soon be transported back in time some 300 years. You’ll see the odd assortment of gifts left for the princess. Perhaps, you will leave something yourself. Walk to the furthest iron posts and you’ll have a perfect view of the great 60 acre Kettle Pond that really does seem to have been dug with clam shells and filled with the tears of a real princess.

  After spending some time with Scargo and her relatives, it’s highly recommended to visit Scargo Tower. You may not see any ghosts, but from the top you will see Provincetown and the Big Water.

  Scargo’s Tower, photo by Bill Russo

  Enter the tower, walk up the metal spiral stairs, and you’ll soon be atop the highest spot on the Mid Cape and perhaps all of Cape Cod. The next picture shows the view from one of the interior ‘windows’.

  The view from inside the tower. Photo by Bill Russo

  Continuing on, along the King’s Highway

  Far too often, I believe, books about ghosts are little more than advertisements for inns, taverns, bed and breakfast establishments and similar businesses. Ghosts can indeed be big business for such places, and if you wish to find one, a split second search on Google can give you a ten page list.

  When you leave Scargo Lake and keep driving left, on the Old King’s Highway, you’ll soon be in Barnstable where you can find a number of such ‘haunted’ places. There’s one at number 3010 Main Street, just outside of Barnstable Village. It’s not a pub now, having been converted into offices.

  This magnificent old building, called The Barnstable House, celebrated its 300th birthday on January 1, 2016. Any good ghost hunter will tell you that most likely, every house that survives for three centuries, undoubtedly, has a ghost.

  The Barnstable house has 11 of them! For this reason, the home has been nicknamed the “House of Eleven Ghosts.” The building is one of several clustered around town that is said to be haunted. The interesting fact is, that many of the reports of the haunts come not from reports of the 18th, 19th, and 20th centuries but from the current day!

  A fledgling industry of ‘guided ghost tours’ has sprung up in Barnstable in the 2000s. More than one strapping young man and some of the ladies have fled the tour in shock, after seeing a spectral image, or hearing the voice of one.

  I’ll tell you a bit
about the house, but will also suggest that if you are lucky enough to be able to vacation on Cape Cod, take the guided ghost tour. You’ll hear a great variety of interesting stories and you may see some unusual things. Whether it is the imagination of the people on the tour, or a reality, I cannot say. But more than a handful of satisfied customers swear they heard or saw ‘something’.

  The Barstable House as it stands today. It’s a cozy home to a few offices. The proprietors and workers seem to have a good relationship with the spirits that are said to also occupy the dwelling.

  The house as it stands today, is not greatly different from when it was built in 1716. Certainly there have been a great number of renovations and upgrades, but the core of the house is unchanged.

  For me, the scariest thing about the two and a half story dwelling is the cellar. When you walk into the cellar, it looks like a normal basement until you notice that there is a large hole in the middle of the floor. When you edge closer to the gap, which is about the size of the trunk of a car, you notice swiftly running water. The home was built over an underground river!

  Among the advantages of this, I guess, was that water could be easily drawn up from the hole, without the bother of going outside to a well.

  From this frightening little abyss, it is said, emerges one of the eleven ghosts. According to the legend, a family that lived in the Barnstable house in its early days, had a ten year old daughter named Lucy. She was playing with a blue ball in the cellar. It rolled into the hole and was swallowed by the river. Lucy dove in after it and drowned.

  In life, Lucy was not able to return from the underground river and climb up the hole to the safety of the cellar floor. Yet, in death, she apparently has mastered the trick. When the house was being used as a tavern, she was frequently seen coming up from the cellar. Walking the floors of the tavern, she was happily bouncing her little blue ball.