The Devil's Footprints LbNA #54587
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Add Location| Owner: | Adoptable |
|---|---|
| Plant date: | Jul 15, 2010 |
| Location: | |
| City: | ??? |
| County: | Bristol |
| State: | Massachusetts |
| Boxes: | 1 |
| Planted by: | Mahatma Dondi  |
|---|---|
| Found by: | ??? |
| Last found: | Aug 17, 2014 |
| Status: | FFFaFF |
| Last edited: | Jul 15, 2010 |
* * * * * * * * * * * *
The box and its contents have been restored and re-hidden -- fittingly, perhaps, on Friday the Thirteenth, August 2010. The clues below have been updated to reflect the new hiding spot.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
The devil, it appears, came down to Bristol County, looking for a soul to steal -- and he left his mark to prove it.
There is a long tradition in folklore and literature of stories about people making a deal with the devil, selling their soul in exchange for the more fleeting pleasures of this world -- youthful beauty, knowledge, great skill, power or enormous riches. Perhaps the most famous of these stories is the ancient German legend of Dr. Faust. Faust makes a deal with Mephistopheles to gain unlimited knowledge and the enjoyment of earthly pleasures for a period of twenty years; but at the end of this time, he owed the devil his soul for all eternity. (This, of course, is where we get the phrase, “Faustian bargain,” signifying a decision made or action done for present gain without regard for future cost or consequences).
As this German folktale borrows liberally from the Genesis account of Adam and Eve’s downfall, tricked by the serpent to eat fruit from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, the Faust legend has been reinterpreted a number of times in the New World, including Washington Irving’s (1824) “The Devil and Tom Walker,” and later Stephen Vincent Benet’s (1937) “The Devil and Daniel Webster. Both of these short stories , in turn, share some commonalities with the New Hampshire legend of General Jonathan Moulton (1726-1787), who was said to have sold his soul to the devil in exchange for having his boots filled with gold every month for the rest of his life. And in Massachusetts, just prior to this, legend has it that one of Bristol County’s founding fathers made his own bargain with Old Scratch.
According to Joseph Yelle, the late Town Historian, the Leonard family was granted in 1695 a 200-acre tract of land from the Taunton North Purchase, as an “Incouragement to set up and build a forge to make iron at said place.” The Leonards built the forge at what is today the southeast side of the intersection of South Worcester and West Main, taking bog iron from the banks of Stony Brook -- so much bog iron that the excavation eventually created what is now known as Chartley Pond -- and soon thereafter built the Leonard Mansion across the street from the iron works, the first framed house in the town amidst a sprawling estate.
Thomas Leonard’s son, George, was given responsibility for developing the iron forge concern, and legend has it that he engaged a diabolical favor -- gaining the family’s great wealth and political influence at the price of his body and soul upon his departure from this world. Yelle reports, in The Devil’s Footprints and Other Sketches of Old Norton, that “Major George became so rich and influential that George Faber Clark, author of the History of Norton published in 1859, states that he lived very much in the style of English nobility, being the owner of immense tracts of land and surrounded by his tenants. He was the leading man among the first settlers of Norton, one of the first Selectmen, the first Representative to the Central Court and first Justice of the Peace.”
George Leonard died in 1716, when he was only 46 years old, and was laid in repose in an upstairs room of the Leonard Mansion. From an account by Daniel Boudillion (in “A Pact in Norton”), George’s wife Anna and their nine children gathered downstairs in the parlor with friends and relations to mourn his untimely passing:
“Amid the sobs and condolences during that long night, a horrible racket was suddenly heard from the upstairs room. The family ran upstairs and Anna burst open the door on a truly horrible sight. There in the room was the Devil himself, come to collect George. His eyes blazed red, and with a horrible laugh he tucked George’s body under his arm and jumped out the open window. The black-clad figure landed on a large boulder below, and bounded off into the night shrieking with triumph and trailing the smell of brimstone behind him. A single parchment fluttered to the floor of the room. Anna burnt it.”
Was that parchment proof of the devil’s pact? If so, Anna Leonard made sure that any physical contract was lost to history; but word of these supernatural events spread through the town like wildfire. Yelle records that, “Naturally, this immensely wealthy and powerful family went through with the funeral as planned. It was noted that the coffin seemed to be of normal weight, but it was subsequently determined on a dark and moonless night that there was nothing in it but a pine log.”
Yelle notes that the curious can still see the cloven footprints etched in the boulder’s face, “though somewhat eroded by time and weather.” The Leonard estate passed from the family in the late 1890s, eventually coming to be known as the Rose Farm. The Leonard Mansion remained standing up until the early 1960s, and not long after that the Rose Farm tract was purchased by the town of Norton. Part of the parcel was eventually used to build an elementary school. The rest of the land is held in preserve.
To find the legend’s stony substantiation, you’ll need to find the aforementioned school cater-corner from Chartley Pond, which is what remains of the Leonard family’s iron excavations. If you enter the school from the main street (what would be the proper route number for a highway passing an elementary school?), you’ll pass the old grain silo from the Rose Farm, and soon see an island of trees and boulders. Turn right before reaching the island, parking in any of those spots nearby. You’ll find a path onto the island, and to the boulder with the Devil’s Footprints, on the side nearest the school.
After you’ve taken in the footprints, you’ll need to discover the entrance to the Rose Farm Conservation Area in order to find the prize you seek. Just past a mailbox numbered “58,” on the northern section of the street named after the second largest city in New England, you’ll find its gated entrance and a sign verifying that this is protected land. There is plenty of room for a car to park.
From the white gate, walk down the gravel path until you can see, through a breach in the trees and bushes, an open field on your left. (The Devil is said to have leapt 30-40 rods from the Leonard Mansion window to that large boulder where he left his mark; by my pace, the lane to this point is dead on at 30 rods). At this point the path circles a bit to the right, into a clearing. If you followed the path to the right, you’d soon come upon a small pond with lots of big frogs; and if you were so inclined, you could follow this path all the way to the Rose Farm silo. But you should follow along the treeline to your left, which separates you from that hay field mentioned earlier. With the sea of grass to your right, follow the treeline to the end, where you’ll jog left to find a large puddingstone. At this boulder, take a compass reading of 110* to catch a glimpse of towering triplets. Walk along either side of this threesome to find the small path you’ll take rightward until you come upon the large six-sister oak which once stood guard over the box, until passersby stumbled upon the spot and took it off into the horizon. To find its new resting place, you’ll need to keep on the path until you come upon stacked spans, fish out of water. Here, turn around and walk 13 paces in the direction whence you came. You should notice the vernal pool on your left, dry in the late summer when this was (re)planted. Notice, too, the confluence of four dead falls along the upper edge of the pool. What are the chances of such a union in nature?
Being careful of the foliage that envelopes the vernal pool, make your way to the trees’ point of intersection. There, beneath the fern fronds, is a makeshift boulder tomb, wherein a comparatively small capstone is set on low supporting uprights. Gently lift the capstone to find what you’ve been looking for. Where to stamp in? Those spans might make a convenient table.
Like the curious Norton townsfolk of yore, you’ve hunted down a box to find what’s inside. The legend doesn’t tell us either way, but let’s assume after having done their due diligence they put the log back in its place, and restored the funereal box to the condition in which they found it. Please, please, take care to do the same here, replacing the capstone atop the boulder tomb, and making sure the box is invisible from all angles so that it can stay hidden for others to find after you’ve left. In fact, why not sprinkle some letterboxing dust for good measure. THANKS!
Old Scratch has been imagined in a variety of ways over the centuries, with the image of the horns, tail and cloven hooves actually being relatively recent in history. The likeness for this stamp is much older, from an archstone carved by monks on the side of a twelfth-century French church (Église Saint-Brice in Saint-Mandé-sur-Brédoire, Charente-Maritime).* Given the name “Devil Devouring a Man,” the monks’ carving captures well the moral behind all these devil’s bargains legends: if you give into immodest temptations for worldly fame and fortune, you may have the devil to pay.
Water and I would love to hear about your adventures, and you can reach us at mahatma.dondi@yahoo.com.
* Taken from Robert Muchembled’s “Damned: An Illustrated History of the Devil,” (Vancouver, BC: Seuil/Chronicle Press, 2004).
The box and its contents have been restored and re-hidden -- fittingly, perhaps, on Friday the Thirteenth, August 2010. The clues below have been updated to reflect the new hiding spot.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
The devil, it appears, came down to Bristol County, looking for a soul to steal -- and he left his mark to prove it.
There is a long tradition in folklore and literature of stories about people making a deal with the devil, selling their soul in exchange for the more fleeting pleasures of this world -- youthful beauty, knowledge, great skill, power or enormous riches. Perhaps the most famous of these stories is the ancient German legend of Dr. Faust. Faust makes a deal with Mephistopheles to gain unlimited knowledge and the enjoyment of earthly pleasures for a period of twenty years; but at the end of this time, he owed the devil his soul for all eternity. (This, of course, is where we get the phrase, “Faustian bargain,” signifying a decision made or action done for present gain without regard for future cost or consequences).
As this German folktale borrows liberally from the Genesis account of Adam and Eve’s downfall, tricked by the serpent to eat fruit from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, the Faust legend has been reinterpreted a number of times in the New World, including Washington Irving’s (1824) “The Devil and Tom Walker,” and later Stephen Vincent Benet’s (1937) “The Devil and Daniel Webster. Both of these short stories , in turn, share some commonalities with the New Hampshire legend of General Jonathan Moulton (1726-1787), who was said to have sold his soul to the devil in exchange for having his boots filled with gold every month for the rest of his life. And in Massachusetts, just prior to this, legend has it that one of Bristol County’s founding fathers made his own bargain with Old Scratch.
According to Joseph Yelle, the late Town Historian, the Leonard family was granted in 1695 a 200-acre tract of land from the Taunton North Purchase, as an “Incouragement to set up and build a forge to make iron at said place.” The Leonards built the forge at what is today the southeast side of the intersection of South Worcester and West Main, taking bog iron from the banks of Stony Brook -- so much bog iron that the excavation eventually created what is now known as Chartley Pond -- and soon thereafter built the Leonard Mansion across the street from the iron works, the first framed house in the town amidst a sprawling estate.
Thomas Leonard’s son, George, was given responsibility for developing the iron forge concern, and legend has it that he engaged a diabolical favor -- gaining the family’s great wealth and political influence at the price of his body and soul upon his departure from this world. Yelle reports, in The Devil’s Footprints and Other Sketches of Old Norton, that “Major George became so rich and influential that George Faber Clark, author of the History of Norton published in 1859, states that he lived very much in the style of English nobility, being the owner of immense tracts of land and surrounded by his tenants. He was the leading man among the first settlers of Norton, one of the first Selectmen, the first Representative to the Central Court and first Justice of the Peace.”
George Leonard died in 1716, when he was only 46 years old, and was laid in repose in an upstairs room of the Leonard Mansion. From an account by Daniel Boudillion (in “A Pact in Norton”), George’s wife Anna and their nine children gathered downstairs in the parlor with friends and relations to mourn his untimely passing:
“Amid the sobs and condolences during that long night, a horrible racket was suddenly heard from the upstairs room. The family ran upstairs and Anna burst open the door on a truly horrible sight. There in the room was the Devil himself, come to collect George. His eyes blazed red, and with a horrible laugh he tucked George’s body under his arm and jumped out the open window. The black-clad figure landed on a large boulder below, and bounded off into the night shrieking with triumph and trailing the smell of brimstone behind him. A single parchment fluttered to the floor of the room. Anna burnt it.”
Was that parchment proof of the devil’s pact? If so, Anna Leonard made sure that any physical contract was lost to history; but word of these supernatural events spread through the town like wildfire. Yelle records that, “Naturally, this immensely wealthy and powerful family went through with the funeral as planned. It was noted that the coffin seemed to be of normal weight, but it was subsequently determined on a dark and moonless night that there was nothing in it but a pine log.”
Yelle notes that the curious can still see the cloven footprints etched in the boulder’s face, “though somewhat eroded by time and weather.” The Leonard estate passed from the family in the late 1890s, eventually coming to be known as the Rose Farm. The Leonard Mansion remained standing up until the early 1960s, and not long after that the Rose Farm tract was purchased by the town of Norton. Part of the parcel was eventually used to build an elementary school. The rest of the land is held in preserve.
To find the legend’s stony substantiation, you’ll need to find the aforementioned school cater-corner from Chartley Pond, which is what remains of the Leonard family’s iron excavations. If you enter the school from the main street (what would be the proper route number for a highway passing an elementary school?), you’ll pass the old grain silo from the Rose Farm, and soon see an island of trees and boulders. Turn right before reaching the island, parking in any of those spots nearby. You’ll find a path onto the island, and to the boulder with the Devil’s Footprints, on the side nearest the school.
After you’ve taken in the footprints, you’ll need to discover the entrance to the Rose Farm Conservation Area in order to find the prize you seek. Just past a mailbox numbered “58,” on the northern section of the street named after the second largest city in New England, you’ll find its gated entrance and a sign verifying that this is protected land. There is plenty of room for a car to park.
From the white gate, walk down the gravel path until you can see, through a breach in the trees and bushes, an open field on your left. (The Devil is said to have leapt 30-40 rods from the Leonard Mansion window to that large boulder where he left his mark; by my pace, the lane to this point is dead on at 30 rods). At this point the path circles a bit to the right, into a clearing. If you followed the path to the right, you’d soon come upon a small pond with lots of big frogs; and if you were so inclined, you could follow this path all the way to the Rose Farm silo. But you should follow along the treeline to your left, which separates you from that hay field mentioned earlier. With the sea of grass to your right, follow the treeline to the end, where you’ll jog left to find a large puddingstone. At this boulder, take a compass reading of 110* to catch a glimpse of towering triplets. Walk along either side of this threesome to find the small path you’ll take rightward until you come upon the large six-sister oak which once stood guard over the box, until passersby stumbled upon the spot and took it off into the horizon. To find its new resting place, you’ll need to keep on the path until you come upon stacked spans, fish out of water. Here, turn around and walk 13 paces in the direction whence you came. You should notice the vernal pool on your left, dry in the late summer when this was (re)planted. Notice, too, the confluence of four dead falls along the upper edge of the pool. What are the chances of such a union in nature?
Being careful of the foliage that envelopes the vernal pool, make your way to the trees’ point of intersection. There, beneath the fern fronds, is a makeshift boulder tomb, wherein a comparatively small capstone is set on low supporting uprights. Gently lift the capstone to find what you’ve been looking for. Where to stamp in? Those spans might make a convenient table.
Like the curious Norton townsfolk of yore, you’ve hunted down a box to find what’s inside. The legend doesn’t tell us either way, but let’s assume after having done their due diligence they put the log back in its place, and restored the funereal box to the condition in which they found it. Please, please, take care to do the same here, replacing the capstone atop the boulder tomb, and making sure the box is invisible from all angles so that it can stay hidden for others to find after you’ve left. In fact, why not sprinkle some letterboxing dust for good measure. THANKS!
Old Scratch has been imagined in a variety of ways over the centuries, with the image of the horns, tail and cloven hooves actually being relatively recent in history. The likeness for this stamp is much older, from an archstone carved by monks on the side of a twelfth-century French church (Église Saint-Brice in Saint-Mandé-sur-Brédoire, Charente-Maritime).* Given the name “Devil Devouring a Man,” the monks’ carving captures well the moral behind all these devil’s bargains legends: if you give into immodest temptations for worldly fame and fortune, you may have the devil to pay.
Water and I would love to hear about your adventures, and you can reach us at mahatma.dondi@yahoo.com.
* Taken from Robert Muchembled’s “Damned: An Illustrated History of the Devil,” (Vancouver, BC: Seuil/Chronicle Press, 2004).