The Bay State Monthly, Volume 3, No. 4 | Page 6

brandy with a bloody finger,
unconscious that the rebel blood he promised to stir would cause his
own to flow at Bunker Hill.
Opposite Wright tavern is one of the oldest burying hills in the country,
on which may be seen the stone of Joseph Merriam, who died in 1677
and those of Colonel Barrett who commanded the troops, and of Major
Buttrick who led them at the bridge, and of his son the fifer who
furnished the music to which they marched. Here also is the inscription
to John Jack famous for its alliteration, and the tablets of the old
ministers and founders of church and State. Some of these headstones
bear coats of arms and rough portraits in stone, while others more
symbolic, are content with the winged cherubim or solemn weeping
willow, and others older still preserve the antique coffin shape. About
one quarter of a mile in the rear of this historic Burying Hill is Sleepy
Hollow, the cemetery now so famous, which will be for centuries as
now, the Mecca of pious pilgrims, for here Emerson sleeps beneath the
giant pine of which he loved to write and which in grateful recognition
ever whispers its solemn dirge over the dead poet, who will live forever
in his writings. His grave is now marked by a rough rock of beautiful
pink crystal-quartz, and his son Waldo lies close beside him, with no
monument but the imperishable one of Threnody. Mrs. Ruth Emerson,
the mother of the poet and his brothers, nephews and grandchildren rest

near him, and close by is the grave of Miss Mary Moody Emerson, the
eccentric genius whom he well appreciated.
[Illustration: THE STUDY IN THE TOWER OF THE WAYSIDE.]
Ridge Path leads up the steep hill past the grave of Emerson and also to
most of the noted burial places. On ascending this path at the western
end, Hawthorne's lot is first reached, surrounded by a low hedge of
Arbor Vitae and the grave of the great writer is marked only by two
low white stones one of which bears his name. At his head lies his little
grandson, Francis Lathrop, and by his side Julian's little daughter
Gladys. Behind is the grave of Thoreau, a plain brown stone, and very
near are the graves of two of the little women, Amy and Beth, by the
side of their noble mother, Mrs. Alcott. Colonel Prescott and many
noted citizens are buried on this path which has for a chief ornament
the handsome monument of the Honorable William Whiting, nearly
opposite which is the Manse lot, with its memorials to Mrs. Ripley and
her sons. On the side of this hill is the Monument to Honorable Samuel
Hoar which bears upon its upper portion an appropriate motto from
Pilgrim's Progress, and an oft-quoted inscription which with the one in
the same lot to his daughter, is recommended to all lovers of pure
English as they are true records of the pure souls they commemorate.
[Illustration: A. BRONSON ALCOTT.]
Returning from the cemetery to the square, we still follow the British
down the Boston road and pass at the corner near the church another
building from which stores were taken and on the left houses of
historical fame, the house and shop of Captain Brown who led the
second company in the fight, the home of the patriot Lee and John
Beatton who left funds for church purposes. Below this house which is
two hundred years old, a guard was posted on the day of the fight and
before it stand two elms so old that they are filled with bricks inside,
and mended outside with plaster in order to preserve them. The next
house on the right is the home of Emerson, a plain wooden building
with trees near the western side, and a fine old-fashioned garden in the
rear. His study was in the front of the house at the right of the entrance.
One side is filled to the ceiling with books, and a picture of the Fates

hangs above the grate, a table occupies the centre, at the right of which
is the rocking chair in which he often sat, and his writing implements
lie near on the table. From the study two doors lead to the long parlor
with its large fire-place around which so many noted people have
gathered.
After passing the home of Emerson the road turns toward the left and
leads past the farm and greenhouses of John B. Morse, the agricultural
author, to the School of Philosophy which has just completed its
seventh session with success, the attendance having steadily improved
certainly as far as culture is considered. It stands in the grounds of the
Orchard House now the home of Dr. Harris who has carried out