Two St Joan of Arc Halloween Stories

I call these "St. Joan of Arc Halloween Stories" because they happened close enough to the neighborhood to be called that. The first story is called "The Legend of Coalmine Brook" Well...there is no legend...I suppose I could invent one, but I won't. I will tell you the TRUE story instead.
In 1674, a man by the name of Ephraim Curtis, (Curtis Apartments are named after him.) walked here from Sudbury, Ma. with his dog and built a cabin somewhere near Lake Quinsigamond. There was a small cave with some coal and lead along Coalmine Brook (Now on the property of the Sisters of Notre Dame Nursing Home on Plantation St.) The Nipmuc Indians who lived in this area used the lead from this cave to paint their faces. Whether Ephraim Curtis was frightened away by the Indians or simply got lonesome, he and his dog stayed for awhile and then returned to Sudbury.
Two other attempts were made to settle Worcester and these settlements were destroyed by the Indians. The Indians continued to use the "coal mine cave" for lead all during the so called King Philip War between the European settlers and the Indians. One young lady by the name of Mary Rowlandson was kidnapped by the Indians and carried off. She kept a diary that exists to this day. She was later exchanged in a deal with the Indians at a place called Redemption Rock. (If you take a ride out Route 140, it is a large rock on the left side of the road between Clinton and Lancaster.) (It is a REALLY BIG ROCK! ) It wasn't until 1722 that Worcester was finally settled and the wars with the Indians subsided.......Someday we will have to get permission of the Sisters of Notre Dame and go find that cave and see if it is haunted!
Now that wasn't a very scary story , was it? Just history-----and not from the Indian's point of view either, right? Well, maybe you might like the next story better.
THE STORY OF BATHSHEBA SPOONER
The year was 1778. The place: Brookfield, Massachusetts. America was in the middle of a bitter struggle for its independence from Great Britain. We had declared our independence two years earlier at Philadelphia on July 4th. Bathsheba Spooner, age 16, lived in this small farming community with her 82 year old husband. She was not a happy bride. The marriage to this old man had been arranged by her father, Colonel Timothy Ruggles, a Tory officer in the British Army totally opposed to George Washington and his "rabble in arms." Col. Ruggles had the misfortune to be in Boston at the Battle of Bunker Hill and be among those soldiers who had to leave Boston for Nova Scotia when the British Army evacuated Boston on St. Patrick's Day, March 17th. 1776.
Meanwhile, back in Brookfield, Bathsheba took up with a wounded Continental soldier who came through town one day. She helped to nurse him back to health. As he was recovering, two British soldiers came by the farm and she talked the three of them into murdering her 82 year old husband. After killing the husband, they threw the body down an abandoned well. Then the two Brits continued into nearby Worcester to a tavern. There they proceeded to get drunk and start to talk about the killing. Someone heard them and turned them in to the constable. Soon everyone in the conspiracy was arrested: the continental soldier, the two British soldiers, and Bathsheba herself who said she was pregnant five months. The authorities did not believe her, but it was true.)
It is not difficult to judge the feelings in the town of Worcester in 1778. Justice was swift. A scaffold was erected in what what is now Washington Square and despite her pleadings, Bathsheba Spooner, along with her three co-conspirators were hanged from the gallows. (It was later proved that she was indeed pregnant.)
.....................BUT..........WHAT...HAPPENED .....TO....THE...BODY...OF.....BATHSHEBA..SPOONER???.......There is no record. Word of mouth says that it was carried up to Greenhill and buried in an unmarked grave somewhere near where the golf course is now. People say that if you take a walk up Marsh Ave. up beyond Gaucher Ave near the golf course on Halloween night when the wind is blowing and listen really intently you can hear a plaintive call that trails off into the distance, "FIND ME, FIND ME, FIND ME, find me,.....(It is enough to give anyone the creeps!!!