Exceptional

An Epic Tale: A Little Fact; A Little Fiction

Up On Sullivan's Hill

by Mrs. KT

<<<~~~>>> All appears quiet this All Hallows' Eve Not so up on Sullivan's Hill For its crumbling graveyard is alive tonight With Swarthout ghosts: Captain and Will Snuff out the lanterns, and do stay inside Lock the windows; bolt every door Tonight is the night that these two will ride Who knows what they may have in store? Upon the Great Lakes these villains did sail Or so their story's oft told But they weren't sailing for soft pelts and fur; Their quest was for women and gold 'Twas during the autumn of ninety-eight Well o'er two hundred years ago  When these two devils became lost one night In dark waters they did not know Their ship did shatter along the north coast  On treacherous rocks, strong and bold No moonlight dared brighten the starless sky Just torrents of rain, biting cold None on board survived the merciless crash Save Swarthout and his greasy son Pity the folks who witnessed their sore plight; They should have turned quickly and run  Farmer Sullivan and his daughters fair Happened upon that grisly wreck They were returning from Petoskey town, Bone tired from their long weary trek Screams from Swarthout and his son could be heard In spite of the wind and the rain The Sullivans, good Christian folks at heart, Could not bear the sound of their pain They searched the crushed wreckage and found the pair But their hearts were filled with deep dread For both men lay in wet pools of dark blood  Freshly gashed wounds upon each head They whisked the captain and his wretched son Away to their prosperous farm But little did the Sullivans then know Their compassion would bring them harm For three weeks Maude Sullivan nursed these two From blackness of death unto health How did Swarthout and his son repay her? They ruined her daughters' true wealth  That All Hallows' Eve the moon shone so bright A hint of snow hung in the air When Farmer Sullivan rose from his bed,  Will bludgeoned him with a huge chair Down went the farmer on the cold hard floor  Blinded by the forceful attack But before he lost the sight in his eyes He saw Captain Swarthout's bent back Into the attic Captain Swarthout crept His swarthy son not far behind There they found the treasure they both had sought:  Pure daughters: golden haired and kind  They ravaged and bound these lasses so fair Their beauty would fetch a great sum From the filthy pirates the Swarthouts knew Who would pay both gold and dark rum Down from the cold attic the Swarthouts stole Treasured booty in grimy hands Ready to mount and ride black stallions And depart these bountiful lands But Swarthout and Will were not so clever As both of them had vainly thought They'd failed to consider Maude Sullivan And, thus, what their actions had wrought Dear Maude was not home that raw autumn night Of that, Captain and son well knew She had gone to help birth a neighbor's child; The dear baby's hours were few Home Maude Sullivan now wearily rode A loaded pistol by her side Even a woman as Christian as Maude Knew what evils the night might hide The sound of galloping horses roused her  Few dared travel this road so late But Maude could tell there were two of them now  She was ready to greet her fate She brought her wagon to a complete halt  And lit a small brass lantern clear When she saw what was bearing down on her, Her heart filled with cold, numbing fear There in the moonlight and her lantern's glow She made out four riders not two Maude Sullivan heard her daughters' loud cries And she knew what she must now do Maude blew out the lantern and climbed right down Onto the rutted road below She waited for the horses' swift approach In the darkness and swirling snow The Swarthouts eagerly stopped when they saw  More plunder to add to their store They would have to hurry and travel fast To make it to Michigan's shore Both men deeply roared a bone-chilling laugh Faces raised to the midnight skies That's when Maude Sullivan appeared, took aim,  And shot them dead - right 'tween their eyes Maude then gathered her daughters close to her And instructed them where to go They would bury this scum up on their hill But no one could possibly know "Let them rot in this dark pit of the ground; No Christian rites - not for these dead. Let us see how these varmits like it now, With earthworms and dirt as their bed." The northern Michigan winds were howling They drove to the crest of the hill And there alongside an old oaken tree They began to plant their fresh kill And when the Swarthouts' graves were both ready The women kicked the cold bodies in Then Maude Sullivan fell onto her knees; Begging God's forgiveness for her mortal sin Before they covered the Swarthouts with dirt Maude turned to her two daughters fair, "Give these bastards the gold that they wanted; Give them locks of your golden hair." And in truth the Sullivan daughters did As their mother told them to do That's the story my great grandmother told me; I believe her words to be true All are now gone from the face of this land All are now buried on that hill All are now sleeping under northern skies But their sad spirits are not still... Sometimes I walk up on Sullivan's Hill  Wondering what's under the ground But the bones of Swarthouts and Sullivans  Never make any mortal sound I ne'er go walking on All Hallows' Eve No, you would never find me there For I believe the stories I've been told Of that evil night of despair And I've never told this to anyone No, I would simply never dare But each time I visit that mournful place, I find locks of bright golden hair...                            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~        All appears quiet this All Hallows' Eve Not so up on Sullivan's Hill  For its small graveyard is alive tonight  With Swarthout ghosts: Captain and Will  Snuff out the lanterns, and do stay inside Lock the windows; bolt every door Tonight is the night that these two will ride Who knows what they may have in store?                               <<~~~>>>

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