This past fall and winter we decided to hunt down caves in southeastern New England that are seldom visited or long forgotten. We dug through our library of historic books and documents and began to make a list. As has often happened in the past we came across one a cave we were eager to hunt for when we read about it years ago, but were tied up with other project. Over time we had forgotten about it. We thought now was the best time to act on it before it would again be put off once again.
From 1786 – 1795 counterfeiters were forging Spanish silver coins at a rocky ridge on the south side of a ravine deep in the forests of Southeastern New England. Tradition says that at this same location there was a small rocky cave they used to hide their tools and money. This cave was entered from above through a triangular opening that could easily be hidden by a rock slab that fit the opening well. The Counterfeiters Den was large enough for three men.
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It was an interesting trip but before I share the details I want to say that the total I was able to collect for the relief fund came to $400. With all of the other cavers, our total came to over $2000. After our run through the passage, the Howe Caverns Tour Manager Jeff DeGroff spoke to us about the many families in Schoharie who have received no support from U.S. Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) and are still homeless. The money all of you contributed will help these people greatly.
Ok now to the cave crawl.
After work Friday I began the four hour trek to Howes Cave NY. The weather seemed to change with every hour. The highlights of the journey were forty five minutes of dense fog and low visibility in central MA, a snowy winter wonderland in the Berkshires and torrential rain with almost zero visibility outside of Albany NY. Once comfortably settled in my room at the Howe Caverns Motel, my night consisted of dining at a local pizza joint while absorbing the local culture and later preparing all my equipment for the morning.
Members of the trip – Courtesy of Aaron Tester
Saturday morning, we began to collect in the main main building at the cave. There was a mix of familiar faces and strangers soon to become new friends. I mingled in and out of different conversation as I waited anxiously for the moment the expedition would begin. At 10 AM we began our fifteen story plummet into the cave below. I was crammed into the same elevator I had taken over thirty years ago, but instead of being surrounded by casual tourists, this time my company was tubs of equipment and serious explorers. We were about to visit a place very few have ever seen and this thought was exciting and a bit scary too.
We followed a narrow brick lined passage that wasn’t part of the standard tour. In an article from 1885 this passage was known as the Devils Gateway. At its conclusion was the Silent Chamber and a nine foot drop to Fat Man’s Misery. Ahead, the passages would be no longer have modern amenities; we’d be to diving into the dark wet Mystery Passage.
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Immortal Words of Rev. Paine
New England has many rocks with mysterious and cryptic messages scaring their surface. One of the more recognized is ‘Dighton Rock’ located along Route 24 in Dighton Massachusetts . Also off of 24, buried in the forests of East Bridgewater , is a strange rock not many are aware of. In this case, the words can clearly be read by anyone and the person scribed them is not a mystery at all. What inspired this man to sprawl these words on a boulder is what puzzles me.
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Allen Israel’s Last Words
Recently I was digging through the cold cases and decide to pull out the Smallpox den file. I had known of the den for over ten years. Though it was a fantastic story, all I was left with was the name of the town and brook it lies near. The brook stretched for miles through fields and forest. Without more clues it would be like trying to find a needle in a hay stack. I thought I’d review the material to see if I could find something I might have missed.
In 1786 Israel Allen of North Brookfield Massachusetts contracted Smallpox. The residents of the town gathered to discuss how to prevent this from being the beginning of a pandemic. It was clear that they would have to ask Israel to leave the town immediately. They knew of a small cave near Sucker Brook that would an excellent home for him and keep him a safe distance from residents.
The village pastor was the person who delivered the verdict of the townsman. Israel agreed with their decision. He knew that this might prevent others from the suffering and possible death of this disease. He gathered the things he would need and disappeared into the forest to his new home. Though nobody ever saw Israel again, the following winter hunters heard the sound of hammer and chisel echoing from the hollow where Israel had taken refuge. No man in town was brave enough to investigate the source of the noise for fear of crossing paths with the ill Israel .
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