Chapter 1-The Cavern beneath Hangman's Hill
"A picnic isn't a picnic without some sort of adventure," said Jo, standing at the mouth of a cave situated behind and beneath the Wooded Graveyard near the base of Hangman's Hill.
"Josephine March," Meg, Jo's older sister, asked, "would you have us to explore the cave where Harriet Fitzgerald disappeared, three years ago? Do you not believe the entrance to the cave was covered with a woodpile, and surrounded by these stone crosses, for a reason? What if it's haunted by her spirit?"
"Or, what if the rumors are true," Amy, the youngest, said, "you know, about unearthly powers or demonic farces taking her, body and soul? Or, maybe she was sanctified during a Black Mass? Who's to say it won't happen to us?"
"Oh, come on," Jo said. "Do you really believe the stories from the eccentric locals, including Aunt Eloise and Uncle Ezra? Why, I would imagine if you were to go over to the University, they would deny the silly stories surrounding this area. We should consider ourselves blessed that we didn't have to holiday in Dunwich, where the truly strange people live. Anyhow, maybe Harriet fell into a gorge, or she got lost and died, or she came to her senses, and ran away from this strange town, concocting a story about the mysterious disappearance, and moved to some ordinary, provincial town like Providence. What say you, Beth? We don't want to leave you out of this order of business of the Busy Bee Society."
"I'm not sure Marmee would approve of us going into the cave," she answered. "We told her we would only go on a picnic—she wasn't particularly happy about us having lunch near a cemetery—and it would grieve her so if anything were to happen."
"Oh, but I did tell Marmee that this hill had a lovely view of the Miskatonic River, its island, and the railroad on the opposite bank, for sketching," Amy said.
"Please, Meg?" Jo asked. "May we look around for a few minutes? Then, we can sit down to lunch, and perhaps I'll have some inspiration for a romantic new story."
"Only for a few minutes," Meg answered, tugging at her curls. "Marmee would be sore vexed with us if anything happened to the younger ones, and I don't want to ruin my new dress."
The March sisters stood at the entrance of the cave, situated two blocks south of their Uncle Ezra and Aunt Eloise's home, on the corner of Hill St. and Pickman St., in the city of Arkham, Massachusetts. After Papa left home to join the war effort, Mrs. March accepted the invitation from her sister and brother-in-law to spend a week with them, along with her daughters, and their servant, Hannah, in hopes it would let the girls forget about their father going off to war. On Tuesday of the week, Marmee gave the girls permission to conduct their Busy Bee Society summer picnic, and Aunt Eloise suggested they spend their day on Hangman's Hill, for it was perfectly safe during the day. Despite Marmee's discomfort with the idea of an unchaperoned picnic on a hill with a reputation for Black Masses and supernatural activity, the girls packed their knapsacks with Meg's book of stories of the women of the Bible, Amy's sketchpads, Jo's papers and pens, Beth's knitting supplies, and Uncle Ezra's spyglass (for viewing the city), while Aunt Eloise and Hannah filled a basket with ham sandwiches, muffins, lemonade, and four tin cups. They donned their felt sunhats, thanked Aunt Eloise and Uncle Ezra for the food and the supplies, kissed Marmee and Hannah good-bye, and made their way to the grove.
About mid-morning, Meg was reading the story of Vashti and Esther to Beth, who was working on her knitting, and Amy, with a clothespin on her nose (in hope of improving its shape) was sketching the river and the island. Jo, who was dealing with a bad case of writer's block regarding her romantic novel involving a princess and a poor solider, tossed aside her notebook, and took a walk. Her steps led her to the Wooded Graveyard, replete with gothic, moldy tombstones dated as early as the 17th century. The scents of ancient trees, and decaying earth, weighed down on the silent cemetery like the large vaults and tombstones sunk into the earth. Jo crossed her arms, trying to keep warm in the deep shadows of the plot of tombstones where babies and young children were buried. The graveyard seemed to turn icy when she came upon the field of unmarked graves, where (according to Uncle Ezra) the bodies of the condemned where tossed, without last rites, including suspected witches from the Salem witch trial period, as well as recent prisoners who were executed, on the gallows at the top of the hill, where the paved pathway concluded.
"No, by George", she said to herself, rubbing her arms briskly, "I will not turn go back, and be teased by the other girls. That would be a worse fate than running into any restless spirits in this creepy old cemetery. Let's see where this faded trail, on the right, takes me."
As she exited the woods, at the northwest corner of the graveyard, Jo noticed a peculiar notch in the hill, off to her left. She made her way slightly downhill until she came to the head of the notch, and was surprised at the sight before her: The gorge, within the notch, was filled with seven stone crosses, each crowned with old candles, and marked with one of the seven colors of the rainbow. She walked into the gorge, past a large, flat boulder which looked blood-stained, and saw a woodpile at the end of the notch, with a wooden cross nailed into the hillside. She tossed aside the limbs, until she uncovered a small cavern.
"Oh, golly!" Jo exclaimed. "We can have a proper adventure for our picnic, today. I must run back, and bring the others here."
"Is anyone surprised we haven't seen any living creatures, either in here, or around this place, other than the fat tabby tomcat?" Meg asked, standing outside the entrance, while the other sisters explored.
"No," Amy answered, from within the cave, "and I don't understand why you're so scared, Margaret, for this doesn't go very far, at all. I would call this more of a ghetto than a cave."
"While I would call this a grotto," Beth said, "I don't know what to make of this flat rock, in the middle of this place. It's clearly blood-stained…perhaps Black Masses have been performed here…oh, how I wish that cat had kept us company! Jo, why did you bring us here? You should've listened to Meg."
"It's still late morning," she replied. "Nothing is going to happen to us in broad daylight. Well, except perhaps we'll stand around and laugh at the oldest sister for refusing to look around, on the grounds she doesn't want to ruin her pretty dress. Meg is truly the mother chicken of the March sisters."
Stomping into the notch, while arching her eyebrows at Jo, Meg took the picnic basket, and dropped in on the center of the supposed sacrificial altar. She laid out a tablecloth, pulled out four sandwiches, the carafe of lemonade, and the four tin cups. With a snap of her fingers, the "mother chicken" summoned her sisters to lunch.
"Do you expect us to eat off of that instrument of sin?" Amy asked, as Beth, clutching her favorite doll, struggled to stifle a sob.
"What in the world has gotten into you, sister?" Jo asked.
"You're not the only one who can act decisively, Josephine March," Meg answered. "I will not be called a coward while our Papa is off to war. The evils he will face, from the blood-thirsty Rebels, are far too real for us to trifle with fairy tales and local superstitions. Whatever may have happened to Miss Fitzgerald—indeed, to any poor soul in this cave—will not diminish our Christian gathering one iota. We will take this vile altar out of the hands of the Devil, and lift up our simple repast to the Lord our God."
The girls joined hands, and offered up their prayers, most especially for Papa. They ate and drank with solemnness, all of them worried about their father and the struggles that laid ahead of him in the fight to preserve the Union, but yet, each one secretly disturbed about breaking bread on unhallowed ground.
Meg broke the cathedral silence, after fifteen minutes, by blurting out, "My goodness, where is that draft of air coming from? It feels pleasant within the staleness of this grotto."
"My invalid doll is enjoying it so very much," Beth said. "Fresh air does wonders for my little darling. She is truly enjoying—"
"Christopher Columbus!" Jo screamed. "There's a secret passage in the wall behind you, Meg! The draft must be coming from the open doorway. Pardon me for interrupting, my dear Beth."
The girls jumped up, scared and excited. Jo was the first at the doorway. She peered into the passage, and said, "Hey, there's an illuminated cavern, down here, complete with a staircase. Now the adventure really begins." Grabbing her knapsack, she continued, "Oh, gee, girls, isn't this so romantic? A quest—a journey—for the Busy Bee Society."
"Absolutely not, Josephine," Meg said. "It is far too dangerous to go down there. We don't have the proper equipment for cave exploration, and I am not going to endanger the little ones—Come back here at once, Jo!"
Jo thumbed her nose at Meg, whipped her long chestnut brown hair around her shoulders, and descended into the cavern. The others looked at each other, each wondering what to do next, when Jo yelled out, and "Come down here. The brook behind Aunt and Uncle's house continues on, and…and…there's a city…and a palace!"
Beth looked back at Meg, shrugged her shoulders, grabbed her knapsack, and descended into the cavern. Meg and Amy stood stock still, wondering at Beth's boldness.
"I suppose I'll ruin my new slippers," Amy said, as she packed up the partially eaten sandwiches and the lemonade, "but we can't let the others go off by themselves. You best take care of your dress. That shade of pink looks marvelous on you."
"Thank you," Meg said, tossing the tin cups in the basket. "At least you have good taste in fine fashion. We better bring our picnic along, in case we find ourselves delayed by Jo's adventure. Shall we join our insane sister in tilting with underground windmills?"