It was a crisp November day in 1759, when a peddler arrived in a village in the Nine-miles-square in Norwich (today known as Franklin). On his back he carried everything that would catch the envy of colonial farm wives. Word of his presence spread quickly through the countryside and the townspeople snatched up his goods as fast as he laid them out.
When his last piece of stock had been purchased, the peddler inquired where he might reside for the night. The Farmwives told him that there was no hostelry this side of Norwich town. Then someone suggested he might find lodging at the farm of Micah Rood.
The next day, news traveled fast that the battered body of the itinerant French salesman had been found beneath an apple tree in Micah Rood's orchard.
His body was found mangled, while his murderer was nowhere to be found. Suspicion immediately fell upon farmer Rood, known widely for his hermit- like ways. From that season on, numerous changes occurred in Micah Rood's orchard. Instead of blooming white or pink as they always had, the blossoms on all the trees in the Rood apple orchard were streaked with red. Every blossom on the tree that hovered over the merchant while he lay dying was a deep scarlet. And inside, close to the core of every apple from the murder tree, people found tiny stains in the unmistakable shape and color of blood drops.
Even to this day, the bloody apples bring a fresh reminder of that ancient, unsolved crime and the Yankee peddler's eternal curse.