In Episode 410 Jeff Belanger and Ray Auger explore the hills above the Quequechan in Fall River, Massachusetts, searching for a location that was once home to a dilapidated hut and a witchy woman who frightened the region’s mill workers in the mid-19th century. From strange lights and sounds emanating from the shack, to an old crone who threatened those who wanted to do her harm, this legend is creepy.
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Produced and hosted by: Jeff Belanger and Ray Auger
Edited by: Ray Auger
Guest Voice: Tracey Cosgrove
Theme Music by: John Judd
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EPISODE TRANSCRIPT:
*A note on the text: Please forgive punctuation, spelling, and grammar mistakes. Like us, the transcripts ain’t perfect.
[RUNNING RIVER WATER]
RAY: We’re standing Heritage State Park in Fall River.
JEFF: We are.
RAY: Battleship Cove is right in front of us. There’s the USS Massachusetts, the USS Lionfish, and the USS Joseph P. Kennedy, Jr. out there on the water. They’re part of the museum now. People can visit the ships.
JEFF: That’s true. And to our left is where the Quequechan River spills into the cove.
RAY: There’s not much to the Quequechan these days. Most of it has been covered up by the city of Fall River.
JEFF: So the word “Quequechan” is an Algonquin word that means “falling river…”
RAY: Got it. I’m guessing that’s where we get the name Fall River today.
JEFF: It is. The reason we’re here is because up on that hill behind us, there was once an enchanted and haunted shack of a house that was said to be home to a witch.
[WITCH CACKLE]
JEFF: We’re here to search for the Old Crone of the Quequechan.
[INTRO]
JEFF: I’m Jeff Belanger, and welcome to Episode 410 of the New England Legends podcast.
RAY: And I’m Ray Auger. Thanks for joining us on our mission to chronicle every legend one story at a time. Did you know most of our story leads come from you? This one did. Thanks to Shane Cambra for emailing us through our website. If you’ve got a story you think we should check out, you can do the same thing. We love hearing from you.
JEFF: We’ll search for the Old Crone of the Quequechan right after this word from our sponsor.
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RAY: This region was inhabited for many centuries by the Pocasset Wampanoag. After Plymouth Colony was settled in 1620, eventually some of those colonists made their way down to Freetown and settled at Assonet Bay. As the decades passed, the Quequechan River turned into an engine that powered dozens of mills. Given the close proximity to the ocean, the raw materials could come in, and the produced goods could go out. Fall River prospered.
JEFF: It did. And it’s in close proximity to one of these old mills that we first learn about this enchanted cabin said to be home to a witch of a woman who would cast her spells inside. So let’s head back to the year 1845 and look for the Old Crone of the Quequechan.
[TRANSITION]
RAY: It’s early April of 1845 here in Fall River, Massachusetts. It’s a spooky time. Edgar Allen Poe published his poem “The Raven” back in January. That’s been getting a lot of attention. President James Polk was sworn in as the 11th president of the United States just last month. In Fall River, the textile factories are humming along. The industrial revolution is in full swing.
[RIVER FLOWING SLOW FADES IN]
JEFF: It is. There are tons of jobs to be had. The mills have no trouble filling available positions. That doesn’t mean some mills have a better reputation in the community than others. But there’s one mill in particular that has its employees a little spooked. That would be the Watuppa Mill on the southern bank of the Quequechan River.
RAY: What’s spooking the workers at the Watuppa Mill?
JEFF: The mill itself is okay, but it’s what’s located right across the river that has everyone on edge.
[THUNDER / LIGHTNING CLAP]
RAY: Yikes… I see a miserable looking log hut perched up there on a rocky overhang above the falls in the river. You can tell the log hut wasn’t well-built. The logs seem to be piled together rather than cut into place. I can’t imagine anyone lives there. In some spots I can see the roof has fallen in. And what a dangerous place to put a house! If that ledge breaks the whole thing will tumble into the river far below.
JEFF: They say that’s where the Old Crone of the Quequechan lives.
RAY: Come on… no one can live there. Look at that place!
JEFF: I see what you’re seeing. I agree, it doesn’t look livable, but people claim to see strange lights flashing from inside the shack on dark nights and in storms….
[WITCH CACKLE ECHO IN DISTANCE]
RAY: Did you hear that?
JEFF: Yeah. They say you can hear the old witch cackle from inside too.
RAY: I’m getting a chill just staring at the shack.
JEFF: No one knows for sure who built it, or why they put it in that precarious spot. And though years of weather and neglect have taken its toll, it’s still standing there… almost mocking those of us who dare to stare.
RAY: One mill worker told me he’s seen red and blue flames coming out of the shack on dark days. Yet it doesn’t burn down.
JEFF: Some locals have flexed their beer muscles and threaten more than once to march up there and either burn the shack to ashes, or push the whole thing off the cliff into the river below… but that’s just talk. In truth, no one wants to go near it. One cold and dark December night the light pouring out of the cracks and crannies of the shack was so bright people could see it almost like a lighthouse beacon. Still… people stay away. They say that’s the hut of the Old Crone of the Quequechan.
RAY: Recently, a local boisterous man named Stephen Davis decided enough was enough with the whispers about the Old Crone and her shack. The 23 year old Davis calls a meeting in a local shop where he asks for volunteers to head up to the shack and do what others have threatened to do, but couldn’t find enough courage. There’s a group of people assembled in the shop watching on.
JEFF: Davis suggests they hold a Bible as their shield and move as a group into the hut to investigate. Another local man named Lot Lee suggests they send for the minister in Assonet for help.
RAY: Joel Wilson thinks they leave the whole thing alone, and Mark Woodward suggests they form a committee. That they arm themselves with weapons, and move as a group to attack whatever beast or demon may lurk inside the hut. Everyone in the shop is pretty worked…
[THUDER CLAP]
[WITCH CACKLE]
[DOOR CREAKS OPEN]
RAY: Uhhhm… are you seeing what I’m seeing?
JEFF: I am!
RAY: The door to the shop just flew open and standing there is an old hag of a woman! She’s hunched over with a long, wart-covered nose. Her mouth hangs half-open with a sinister grin that smiles from ear to ear. Tufts of gray and black hair stick out from under her scarlet-colored kerchief and from her chin. Her ears look like wrinkled shoe leather. She’s wearing a scarlet robe that matches her kerchief.
JEFF: The old crone just placed one of her pointy feet onto the threshold of the door. She’s sticking her head into the room and scanning like a predator looking for which prey to pounce on first.
CRONE: Who talks of throwing me or mine into the Quequechan? Who talks of priests and Bibles? Who of guns and fire? [LOW HOARSE LAUGH]
JEFF: She’s raising her bony finger and pointing it at Davis.
CRONE: Thou braggart! Thou, Stephen Davis, talk of stirring up spirits! Thou, who dare not enter a cellar in the daytime, talk of firing my hut! I would like to see thee alone, within a rod of its entrance when I am there. Out upon thee, thou scorn of they race!”
JEFF: Now she’s looking at the other men.
CRONE: All dumb, are ye, my masters. Oh ye are a valiant band, truly! Burn my hut, will ye! No, no the man is not here that dare do that!
RAY: The Old Crone is gliding around the room, almost brushing against some of the petrified men who shake with fear as she draws close. Suddenly, Welcome Brownell steps from the corner where he had been sitting, and raises his hand.
[WHACK] [THUMP]
RAY: Oh! He just punched the Crone right between the eyes. She fell to the floor like a sack…. I don’t…. I don’t think she’s breathing.
JEFF: I don’t see her chest moving at all… I think she’s dead. The room is silent. No one seems to believe what just occurred before our eyes….
RAY: (INTERRUPTING) Wait! Look! The Old Crone is twitching…
JEFF: her body is spasming in a most unnatural way. She’s rising up again. No she’s staring dead in the eyes of Welcome Brownell. She’s panting like an animal about to attack.
CRONE: Laugh, imp of the fiery world! But know ye my revenge is certain and speedy!
RAY: She just snatched Brownell’s one-year-old child from his wife’s lap, and now she’s darting out the door. I’ve never seen anyone move that fast, let alone an old woman!
[RUNNING ON STREET]
RAY: The crowd of men are chasing after the crone and the kidnapped baby.
JEFF: The Old Crone just stopped and is now facing the charging crowd. She’s holding the baby and threatening to snap its neck.
CRONE: Ho, ho, ye dastards! Fire my hut, will ye! Ay, fire it! But know ye knaves, while ye destroy with fire, the Crone of the Quequechan destroys with water.
JEFF: Look! Lot Lee and sneaking up from behind the witch!
RAY: Lee just snatched the child back from the Crone and knocked the old woman to the ground.
JEFF: Lee is placing a foot on the chest of the witch lying on the ground.
RAY: The other men have found some rope and are tying up the Old Crone’s feet and hands. They’re carrying her off toward her hut on the hill.
JEFF: This mob of men intend to end this deviltry for good.
[HIKING IN THE WOODS]
RAY: When the crowd reaches the hut, they try opening the door, but it’s stuck.
[POUNDING ON THE DOOR]
RAY: No matter how hard they push, the door won’t yield.
[AXE BREAKING WOOD]
JEFF: Stephen Davis is breaking through the wooden walls with a rock. Pretty soon, the mob forces their way inside while carrying the tied up Old Crone.
RAY: The inside of the hut is completely empty except for a pile of straw hay in the corner that must be her bed, and a lone stool in the middle of the room. It looks like Davis has found a small box in the pile of straw.
JEFF: Whatever is in that box has made the Old Crone furious!
RAY: Davis is pulling an old letter from out of the box. Let me read it. [PAPER SHUFFLE] It says, Boston, June 10, 1700. Mary, I am in the iron grasp of the king’s bloodhounds! Take care of thyself. (PAUSE) And it’s signed Kid.
JEFF: The room is silent. The Old Crone is seated quietly on the stool in the center of the room now free from her ropes. (BEAT) Who are you?
CRONE: The last mistress of Kid, the pirate.
[WALKING ON WOOD]
JEFF: And with that, the Old Crone is walking out the door. No one is stopping her. She’s taking one last look at her hut, then fading off onto the high road leading to Newport. And that brings us back to today.
[TRANSITION]
JEFF: And that was the last anyone ever saw of the Old Crone of the Quequechan. Her hut rotted into nothing, and today the entire landscape looks nothing like it did 175 years ago. There are highways and houses up on the hill now. All of the old mills are gone, and the Quequechan is a stream… but this story remains.
RAY: Most of what we know about this story was pulled from the September 19, 1953 Herald News which was quoting some news accounts from a century earlier.
JEFF: New England is full of stories of old hags and witches who live on the outskirts of our towns and villages, drawing whispers and rumors. These women lived alone, they were old, and people feared them. And when you’re scared, there’s no telling how far you’ll go.
[OUTTRO]
RAY: Don’t you run off just yet, because we’ve come to After the Legend where we take a deeper dive into this week’s story and sometimes veer off course.
JEFF: After the Legend is brought to you by our patreon patrons! We can’t do what we do without them. They kick in just $3 bucks per month to help with our hosting, marketing, travel, production, and all of the other costs it takes to bring you two podcasts each week. They get early ad-free access to new episodes, access to our entire archive of shows, plus bonus episodes and content that no one else gets to hear. Just head over to patreon.com/newenglandlegends to sign up.
To see some of photos of the mills on the Quequechan in Fall River, click on the link in our episode description or go to our website and click on Episode 410.
Just a reminder that we’re getting close to launching a new podcast that features interviews with you! If you’ve had a strange encounter in New England… maybe a ghost, a weird creature, UFO, or some odd encounter with odd history, please email us anytime through our website. We may want to talk to you for a future episode. Please also be sure you subscribe to our podcast, post a review for us, and tell your friends. That’s how our community grows.
We’d like to thank Tracey Cosgrove for lending her voice acting talents this week, thank you to our sponsors, our patreon patrons, and our theme music is by John Judd.
Until next time remember… the bizarre is closer than you think.