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YALE
UNIVERSITY LIBRARY

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

GLIMPSES OF LIFE IN WESTBOROUGH.

I717-1817.

BY
HARRIETTE MERRIFIELD FORBES.

BOSTON :
Press of Rockwell and Churchill, 39 Arch Street.
1889.

Cl,E3 US'
CoL-j

I

PREFACE.

jfOR the use of the Parkman papers, thanks are
due to the Antiquarian Society, in Worcester,
for the earliest volume of the Journal and the
Natalia; to Mrs. I. E. S. Tuckerman, of Amherst, for the
Journals of the years 1737 and 1778-80; to Mrs. Maria
D. Leach, for that of Anna Sophia Parkman ; and to Mrs.
Nahum Fisher, for several papers of interest. Mrs. J. W.
Brittan has kindly loaned the large number of papers left
by Dr. Hawes, and Mrs. Sarah Ball Searle, of North-
borough, those of Dr. Ball.
Nearly all the older residents of the town have been of
very great assistance in the work, by telling stories of fact
or folk-lore, or by pleasant companionship in drive or
walk. For the title chosen, The HUNDREDTH Town, I am
indebted to the chance of circumstance, — ninety-nine
other towns having been previously incorporated in Massa
chusetts.

6 PREFACE.
The view of Main' street in 1828 is taken from an old
water-color in possession of Mrs. Leach ; that of the church
in 1806 from a drawing, also loaned by her, made by Mr.
Charles Parkman. Governor Davis' birthplace is from a
daguerreotype owned by Mrs. George C. Davis, of North-
borough. The engraving was done by Clara Denny Ward, of
Shrewsbury.

TABLE OF CONTENTS.

CHAPTER. I. Traces of the Indian
II. The First Settlers .
III. Old Roads and Taverns
IV. The Minister's Family
V. The Town Physician 
VI. Legal Practices . ...
VII. Phantoms and Realities
VIII. Stephen Maynard and some of his Neighbors
IX. The Last of the Nipmucks
X. Social Customs . ...

9
31
47 67
103120132 154 167 186

THE

HUNDREDTH TOWN,

CHAPTER L

TRACES OF THE INDIAN.
lORE than two hundred years have passed away
since the Indian, unmolested, roamed through
the wilderness of Wabbequasset — the land of
the Nipmucks — the Whetstone country. Nearly every
trace of him has disappeared. His Okommakamesit and
Whipsufferage we call Marlborough; Hassanamisco, the
place of small stones, is Grafton ; Wopanage, the crossing-
place, is Milford ; and Magunkook, the place of great trees,
is Hopkinton. Very few places retain their Indian names ;
even the great pond, Naggawoomcom, was rechristened
Chauncy, in honor of a Harvard College president, to
whom the land near by was granted.
The exceptions in this immediate vicinity are Quinsiga-
mond, "the pickerel-fishing place," in Shrewsbury; the

ID

TPLE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

river Assabet (pronounced, in the boyhood of the old
men, Assawbet), flowing through Westborough ; and Hoc-
comocco, the pond which the " fresh-water fishermen ''
named for their evil spirit, because they believed that
whoever chanced to be near its borders was under some
malignant influence.

T cuce. ^n a-\i\iiTcL.

The legend of this pond was written by Hon. Horace
Maynard for the " Horae Collegianae," published by the
undergraduates of Amherst, in 1838. He says it was told
to him " by an old Indian, the last of his tribe." This
was probably old Andrew Brown, of whom more hereafter.
With some omissions, it is as follows : —

TRACES OF THE INDIAN. I I
A LEGEND OF THE HOBOMAK.
" It is, truly, a most singular place. Surrounded on three
sides by heavy, deep-shaded woods, that, as they recede
from the shore, tower to the summits of the high hills by
which it is encircled, it presents a dreary, cavernous aspect,
dismally relieved by the low, palpitating quagmire border
ing the fourth side. It is seldom visited, except by the
fisherman in his skiff, or the truant school-boy, to gather
the lilies that fringe the margin ; and seldom by them ex
cept in broad daylight, the most foolhardy being scarcely
venturesome enough to tread by night the muggy paths
that wind through its tangled underwood and murky bogs.
A Sabbath stillness reigns there almost unbroken. The
angler holds converse with his fellows at the other end
of the boat in the softest whispers ; the century-living crow
croaks dull and husky from the pine in yonder cove ; even
the querulous jay in that clump of alders softens her
shrew-like note. Occasionally, perhaps, a mink or an otter
rises to the surface, takes a hasty survey of the upper
regions, flaps his strong tail, and sinks back to his slimy
habitation ; but saving a few such equivocal sounds, the
Genius of Silence holds uninterrupted sway. Such is the
Hoccomocco, as it is called by the hinds in the neigh
borhood ; and the town surveyor himself has not ventured.

12 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
in his ' Survey of the Town,' so far to violate the vulgar
prejudice, as to give it its proper designation of Hobomak.
This, as is well known, was the Indian appellation of the
Evil Spirit.
" Tradition affirms that Captain Kidd concealed a large
portion of his ill-gotten booty somewhere along the inhos
pitable shores of the Hobomak, and so vigilantly has it
been guarded by the infernal powers, that not a soul has
caught a glimpse of it since. Not that no attempt has
been made to recover it from such infamous stockholders,
and give it a more honorable investment. Many a deep-
sunk pit would you find along the desolate shores of the
pond, dug, about the charmed hour of midnight, by two
ignorant day-laborers, while a third stood guard, holding
a drawn sword and gun charged with a silver bullet, and a
fourth marched close to the limit of the magic circle,
reading most reverently from a big family Bible which he
carried perpendicularly before him ; thus, by weapons
carnal and weapons spiritual, bidding defiance to the Spirit
of Darkness. But, with all their midnight financiering,
the gold pieces were never observed to twinkle particularly
bright through the interstices of their silk purses.

TRACES OF THE INDIAN.

13

" ' And this is my wedding-night,' said the beautiful lano,
as she stood contemplating her lithe and graceful form,
mirrored in the glassy rivulet which forms the outlet of the
Hobomak. Her beads and wampum were most daintily en
twined about her neck and arms ; her hair hung negligently
on her shoulders, confined only by a fillet of wild-flowers ; a
neatly wrought moccasin concealed a wanton little foot and
ankle ; and a mantle of bear-skin completed her attire. She
was the belle of her tribe, and, like all belles, an incorrigible
coquette. All the young warriors had in turn sued for her
hand, and all had been rejected except the chief, Sassacus.
He had remained a long time unsusceptible to her charms ;
or, if he had been moved, his emotions were kept locked up
within his own breast. Even when he had inwardly re
solved to wed the proud and volatile creature, he refrained
from communicating his sentiments, but adopted a course of
policy which has succeeded in bringing many a flirt into the
arms of her lover since those times. Somebody has said, —
caustically enough, to be sure, — that if the suitor would cease
to pursue his mistress, she would turn and give chase to him.
Whether this be truth, or a mere epigram intended for effect,
our regard for the sex will not allow us to decide ; such, cer
tainly, was the experience of Sassacus. He stood aloof from

14

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

the fair one till she began to pine in secret for his love.
Often would she watch him as he sat in council, or joined
in the wild measures of the war-dance. She fed upon his
looks till he became her soul's ideal of beauty, — such stead
fast limbs, such a massive chest, such a noble gait, such a
lofty, commanding brow ! All her arts of fascination- had
failed ; and a sigh of mingled vexation and despair would
escape from the very bottom of her heart, as she saw him
from day to day sporting with the other and less beautiful
maidens of the tribe.
" The keen-eyed chief let none of these things escape his
notice ; and when he had sufficiently humbled the proud
spirit of the girl, he changed his demeanor. By a few
trifling presents and an occasional flattering word he kindled
a feeble spark of hope in the breast of the fair despondent,
but, at the same time, without allowing her to presume on
his affection. In this way he inveigled her completely into
his power, and extorted a full confession of love, before he
had given her the least proof of his own attachment. He
now began to play the lover in real earnest. Having stipu
lated with the parents of the maid for the price of her ran
som, and all the other preliminaries being duly settled, he
made preparation for the marriage festival. lano had
reached the very pinnacle of happiness. Her step was the
lightest among the maidens as they tripped it through the

TRACES OF THE INDIAN. 1 5
glades of the forest; -her canoe danced gayest as they glided
cheerily over the water. She longed for the hour when the
priest should bind herself and her lover in the mystic girdle.
And what betrothed damsel will not sympathize? Thus she
stood by the brook meditating her approaching happiness,
now readjusting her ornaments, and studying the effect; now
patting the water with her tiny foot, and watching the ripples
as they circled out of sight, till the sun had dropped behind
the hills, and night had begun to fling her gray shadows
over the earth. In the ecstasy of her joy her disposition
for frolic returned. She had never ventured to play her
pranks upon the stern Sassacus, but the temptation was too
great to be resisted ; she could not give up her maiden free
dom without one more act of enjoyment. ' The young men
are assemljling,' she continued, soliloquizing ; ' I hear them
laugh. I'll give them the slip for one night.'
II.
"The wedding-party had indeed assembled. The warriors
were there, each with all the scalps and wolf-locks he and
his ancestors had ever taken from the foe or secured in the
chase. These trophies marked their rank more truly than
the purest heraldic emblazonry ; and, reckoned by this rule,
Sassacus was found abundantly deserving the post of chief
He was the bravest of his nation ; no arrow was more cer-

1 6 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
tain in its flight, whether winged at man or beast ; and no
tomahawk cleft its victim with a more deadly aim than his.
On this occasion he was decked with unusual splendor. The
string of fish-bones — the insignia of royalty — depended
from his neck ; a triangular breast-plate, wrought from the
fangs of the catamount, adorned his front; shells of small
turtles dangled from his ears ; a circlet, into which were
fastened the tails of rattlesnakes, entwined his brow, making
music as he walked ; a tuft of eagle feathers crowned his
head ; while over his left shoulder was carelessly thrown a
robe of wolf-skins, fringed with human scalps, a few of which
were still green from the head of the fallen Pequot. Thus
arrayed, he took his seat at the sacred fire, and on either
side of him his warriors, according to rank. The seat at his
right hand was vacant.
"'Where is Wequoash?'" inquired he, glancing his eye
over the company. As no one could answer him, all re
mained silent. He then propounded the question to each
one in turn, and, by way of reply, he got an abundance of
conjecture and much information touching the precious
whereabouts of the missing; but, as far as any valuable, or
in the least available, intelligence was concerned, his inquiries
ended just where they began. The person in question was
the second in rank to Sassacus, and his rival in war. For a
long time he had been the avowed, and, as he supposed, the

TRACES OF THE INDIAN. 1 7
accepted, lover of the fair lano. The wreath that decked
her brow his hand had woven ; the fur robes that covered
Iier lovely form were the spoils of his bow. In secret,
indeed, she had cherished his hopes, intending to accept him
at last should she fail in attracting Sassacus, though in pub
lic she had always treated him with the same cold indiffer
ence which marked her conduct towards the rest of her
admirers. Thus fed, his passion increased in strength and
violence, till it was too late to check its growth or to trans
fer it to another object. ... In his anguish he had
vowed eternal hate, and now awaited with his native in
difference a favorable opportunity to wreck his purposed
vengeance. By rank he was expected to be present at the
marriage and to assist at the customary sacrifices, and the
ardor with which he had superintended the preparations
made his absence appear strange and unaccountable.
III.
" On the north shore of the Hobomak is a plain stretching
away to the distance of several miles, skirted on the western
side by a high range of hills, whose declivities, lined as they
are with jutting masses of rock and a few scattering old
trees, are, even at this day, sufficiently solemn and gloomy."
The most prominent of this range is Boston hill, so called,
.because it was supposed to be as thickly populated with

1 8 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
rattlesnakes as Boston with people. " Here and there yawns
a cavern whose frightful depths few have c6urage or inclina
tion to penetrate, so are left to be the abode of serpents and
toads, and all such creatures as flee the face of man. Among
these dismal haunts Wequoash, desirous to appear at the
wedding signalized by some recent achievement, had been
searching all day for the lurking-place of a panther which
for a long time had infested the neighborhood. After an
active and patient search, he found a crevice between two
overhanging rocks that opened wider and deeper than the
rest, and plunged into it without hesitation. On reaching
the bottom he descried a narrow passage which branched off
in a lateral direction under the base of the hill. Along this
he crept upon his hands and knees for several hundred feet,
till at length it terminated in a spacious cavern, the size of
which, perfectly dark as it was, he found it difficult to deter
mine. In this perplexity he gave a shrill cry, to try the
effect of the reverberations. A low, faint echo died along
the distant walls, followed by the hoarse growl of a wild
beast. The experienced ear of the Indian instantly told
him that he had hit upon the object of his search, and,
directing a glance to another part of the vault, he discovered
the eyes of the animal glaring like meteors in the midst of
the surrounding darkness.
"Wequoash quickly saw that he was discovered. He could

TRACES OF THE INDIAN. ig
perceive the gleaming eyes gradually making towards him,
till, crouching within a few feet, the animal appeared on the
point of making the fatal spring. It was a moment requiring
all the nerve for which he was distinguished even 'among his
own stout-hearted race. He had left his bow behind him, not
supposing that he should require its service in the bosom of
the hills ; and his tomahawk, hanging at his side, was his
only weapon of attack or defence. To move from his posi
tion, in a place with which he was wholly unacquainted,
would be attended with great hazard, and to retreat through
the narrow aperture by which he had entered would ex
pose him to the attack of his foe at still greater disadvantage.
Amidst these perplexities the cool-headed Indian formed his
plan of action as deliberately as if the merest trifle had been
staked upon the issue. Seizing his hatchet from his belt, he
hulled it with an instinctive aim, and bounded from the floor
of the cave. In his descent he fell prostrate upon the body
of the beast. The deadly missile had cleft his skull, and, by
vaulting from his position, the hunter avoided the fatal spring
which the creature sometimes makes upon its enemies, in
the agonies of death. With much effort he drew his booty
to the mouth of the cavern, and, throwing it over his shoul
der, commenced his return, night having long since fallen.

20 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

IV.

" The volatile lano could not resist the temptation to play
the truant to her betrothed, and to disappoint, for one night
at least, the assembled youth of the tribe. At the farther
extremity of the Hobomak was a huge old willow, mantled
by an enormous wild grape-vine whose branches depended so
as to form a beautiful natural arbor. Thither she was fond
of retiring with one or two of her companions, and they, in
honor of her, had named it lano's bower. In this charmed
retreat she determined to pass the night, even at the risk of
forever alienating her lover. So, unmooring her canoe, she
stepped into the toppling thing, and darted from the shore.
Away, away it flew dancing over the water, so light as
scarcely to leave a ripple on the tranquil surface. Before
she had reached the middle, the harvest-moon arose and
threw its full-orbed light directly upon her. Hearing the
sound of a light, stealthy footstep, and fearing that she
should be discovered, she turned her canoe towards the
nearest shore, and took refuge under the shadows of the
overhanging trees.
" Wequoash was hastening homeward with his game, anx
ious lest he should be too late to participate in the cheer of
the festival ; for it ill assorted with his ideas of manliness,
as well as with his dark system of policy, to appear wanting

TRACES OF THE INDIAN. 21
in merriment and good-nature on an occasion so joyous to
his rival and so humiliating to himself As he'neared the
shore of the pond he descried a canoe skimming gracefully
over the water, the moonbeams glancing from the paddle as
it rose in light and even strokes, which the rower would now
and then suspend, and look cautiously about her as if sus
pecting danger.
" ' It is the canoe of the False-hearted,' said he to himself;
' no other of our girls can dip her oars so lightly.' She
was alone, and he could wish for no more favorable oppor
tunity to accomplish the pent-up purpose of his breast.
The demon of vengeance had seized fast hold upon him,
and every other consideration was forgotten. Seeing her
approach the shore, he cast off his hunting-dress, dropped
into the water a little before the bark, and swam softly be
neath the surface till he was within a few feet of it. Just
then the vigilant fugitive let fall her paddle, and applied her
ear close to the water that she might detect more readily the
footsteps of her pursuers, little dreaming that so deadly a foe
lurked at the very bow of her skiff. To seize her by her
floating tresses and drag her down required but little effort.
A thrilling shriek of agony, a few frantic struggles, and all
was over. She sunk like lead when released from the pow
erful grasp of the warrior. The canoe he dragged to a little
distance, threw into it a large stone, which secured it firmly

22 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
at the bottom, thus obliterating every trace of his victim.
He regained the shore, resumed his dress, bore away his
game to a place of concealment, and, plunging into the
forest, quickly was out of sight.

V.

" The maidens who had been appointed to escort the bride
into the presence of her lord sent one of their number with
a message that lano had disappeared a little before sunset,
and could nowhere be found. A suspicion flashed across
every mind that her disappearance was some way connected
with the absence of Wequoash. All knew the strength of
his former attachment and suspected the depth of his disap
pointment, and they were well assured that his haughty
and irascible spirit would never brook an injury. Seizing
their hatchets and bows, Sassacus' and his young men sprang
off into the woods to discover, if possible, the delinquent
bride. Long and diligent was their search ; every glade
and dell was explored, but all to no purpose. Her canoe
was gone, and no traces of it or of her could be found.
Silent and dejected, they returned to the scene of their fes
tivity; all but Sassacus. He came not. For hours they
awaited him, indulging a feeble hope that he had been more
successful ; but even this, faint as it was, was dashed by the

TRACES OF THE INDIAN. 23
approach of the chief, wearing a look of despair. He had
seen his bride unmoor her skiff, and, guessing her intention,
had run along the shore, keeping parallel M'ith the course,
intending to surprise the fair fugitive by seizing her in his
arms just as she should spring to the land. She had eluded
his sight by rowing under the cover of the woods on the op
posite shore, and he began to fear she had given him the slip,
after all his vigilance, when a narrow opening in the trees
let in the moonbeams upon her, enough to project the out
line of her form. All at once he saw her drop her oar,
bend her ear to the water in the act of listening, then sink
heavily beneath the wave. He remembered the heartless
sacrifice, and his native superstition overcame him. His
bride had perished by the unseen power of the Evil Spirit.
" After two days had elapsed, Wequoash had appeared in
the village bearing the body of the panther. He was received
by the aged and the children, the women and the warriors,
with yells of delight; for his burden explained the cause of
his absence; and, as usually happens when men find they
have been indulging in groundless suspicions; their regard
for him rose to a higher pitch than before. On learning the
iniserable fate of lano, he was smitten with deep apparent
grief; he smote his' breast, and uttered the most frantic
exclamations, like one distracted. Recovering at length, he

24 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
applied himself with unwearied assiduity to console the
unhappy Sassacus, and by degrees the chief became more
and more cheerful, till he appeared to have quite forgotten
his sorrow. His gladness was but temporary, for heaviness
and depression of spirits again stole over him, which termi
nated soon after with his life. Wequoash had now obtained
complete revenge; his rival and his false-hearted mistress
were both sleeping in the arms of death, and no one sus
pected his agency in destroying them. He assumed the
command of the tribe, and having mourned a decent in
terval over the dead body of his predecessor, he sought to
obliterate his memory from the minds of the people by
leading them out to battle against the brave Narragansetts.
Since, among savages, personal prowess is the only basis of
distinction, his bravery and address in war soon rendered
him a universal favorite. VI.
"The thirteenth moon had just begun to wane when
Wequoash, returning one evening from a hunting expedi
tion, seated himself upon a fallen tree near the shore of
the. Hobomak, and not far from the spot where, the year
before, he had taken such vengeance upon the solitary
maiden. ... As he sat thus in troubled contempla
tion, a flame appeared streaming from the water just over

TRACES OF THE INDIAN. 25
the place where the bones of the maiden slept, and casting
upon everything around a blue mephitic light, of all, the
most fearful. Presently a canoe arose, and floated straight
towards him, as if animated by an invisible agency. Urged
by an irresistible influence, he entered it, and was wafted
directly to the strange illumination, which gradually resolved
into a form like the form of the murdered lano, only the
expression was more sad and pensive. The spirit gazed
intently upon him for a long time, unable as he was to resist
the fascination ; then, uttering a piercing shriek, melted away
from his sight. He fell in a state of insensibility; on recov
ering, he found himself lying by the fallen tree, suffering
from extreme exhaustion, and with much difficulty crept
home before morning.
" Another revolution of the seasons brought another similar
night. The lightnings gleamed vividly in the far-off hori
zon ; the fireflies flitted over the morass ; stillness reigned ;
the blue flame arose ; the skiff came to the shore ; the chief
tain was again impelled to embark ; the sorrowful form of
the dead again appeared before him, and, exclaiming ' Only
once more,' again vanished into the abyss of waters.
" Deep melancholy now pervaded the mind of Wequoash.
For days he would roam the forest without food, and
shunning the faces of his fellow-men. ... In this man
ner the year wore away, and the fatal night returned. This

26 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
time he assembled the tr.ibe by the shore, and, in a long and
pathetic harangue, disclosed to them how that it was by his
hand the canoe of lano had sunk; how that he had poisoned
the sorrowing Sassacus under the pretende of administering
exhilarating draughts. He then recounted his interviews
with the unavenged spirit of the injured girl, and darkly
alluded to the fate that there awaited him. Petrified with
fear, they saw him enter the approaching canoe, and move
passively to the mysterious flame. A form arose, but it was
not the form of lano. Her gentle spirit could not come for
vengeance. It was the form of Sassacus, dark, terrific, con
founding. ' This is my hour,' it said. Wequoash drew his
robe closer, about him, and folded his arms in token of resig
nation. A black cloud hovered over him ; a vivid flash, a
stunning thunder-peal, a few big rain-drops, — all was over;
thick darkness succeeded ; the chieftain was seen no more.
"The season was afterwards celebrated by the tribe for
many generations, and a song was composed, which the
maidens sung at their marriage festivals, — a mournful thing,
descriptive of the character and fortunes of the rival chiefs
and the too-much-loved lano. -Whenever they crossed the
Hobomak, they each carried a stone and sunk it at the fatal
spot, till at length the pile rose above the water. It has
since fallen away by the action of the waves, but even now it
may be seen when the surface is perfectly tranquil. A mys-

TRACES OF THE INDIAN. 27
terious dread still attaches to it, and if the fisherman chance
to strike it with his oar, he hurries away as from a place to
be avoided."

After the white man became somewhat established in the
land, the Indians themselves were often called by English
names. A few places still bear these adopted names of their
Indian owners. The most interesting in Westborough is
Jackstraw hill.
In his day, Jack Straw was a famous man, — the first
Indian baptized in the English colonies, taken to England
from Virginia, in " Sir Walter Raleigh's service," proving
himself a faithful friend of the white man, always ready to
help him by strength or stratagem ; but after all, finding that
his Indian nature was the strongest part of him, he returned
to this country, according to Governor Winthro'p, and
"turned Indian again.'' (Winthrop's Journal, I., 52.) Ac
cepting the name he so little deserved, of Jack Straw, after
one of "the greatest rebyls that ever was in England," he
continued occasionally to serve the English as servant and
interpreter, and probably ended his days within the limits of
this town.
So much we learn from the histories ; from tradition,
only that an old Indian named Jackstraw once owned all the

28 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
land in the vicinity of the reservoir and No. 5 school-house,
and that he had his wigwam on the summit of the hill,
more than a quarter of a mile west of the school-house. He
was soon forgotten, but Jackstraw hill is his monument; and
so it happens that his name is spoken in town every day.
His land was granted, in the latter part of the seventeenth
century, to the widow of Richard Beers, who fell, bravely de
fending Deerfield against the savages. This grant of land,
described as being " at a place called Jack Straw's Hill," em
braced the present town reservoir and District No. 5 school,
and farms in that vicinity. (Hist, of Wore. Co., II., 1336.)
There were three hundred acres in the farm.
In 1675 a party of eleven Indians attacked the house of
Mr. Thomas Eames, of Framingham, he being absent, killed
his wife and some of his children, and carried the rest away.
In this company there were three — a father and two sons
— bearing the name of Jackstraw. They lived in Hopkinton.
They were probably son and grandsons of the Westborough
Jack Straw. They were tried, convicted, and executed, in
spite of the pathetic petition which they addressed to the
Court of Assistants, in which they said: " You were pleased
(of your own benignity), not for any desert of ours, to give
forth your declaration, dated the 19th of June, wherein you
were pleased to promise life and liberty unto such of your
enemies as did come in and submit themselves to your

TRACES OF THE INDIAN. 29
mercy, and order, and disposal ; " and they further claimed
that they took no active part in the massacre.
Sewall, in his Journal, thus makes record of their death :
" September 21, 1776, Stephen Goble, of Concord, was exe
cuted for the murder of Indians. Three Indians for firing
Eames, his house, and murder. The weather was cloudy
and rawly cold, though little or no rain. Mr. Mighil
prayed; four others sat on the gallows, — two men and two
impudent women, one of which, at least, laughed on the gal
lows, as several testifieth." (Temple's Hist, of Framingham,
p. 78.)
This seems to have been the last mention of the Jackstraws
in this vicinity. About 1845, ^ young Indian from Maine
came to Hopkinton, and worked for Elbridge G. Rice. He
was savage and ugly, and bore the name of Enoch Straw.
In the northern part of Northborough there is a sheet of
water, ninety by seventy-five rods, called " Solomon's pond,"
" from the circumstance," sa)'S Peter Whitney, in his " History
of Worcester County," published in 1793, " of an Indian of
that name being drowned therein, by falling through a raft
on which he was fishing." In the early part of this century
an Indian's canoe was found sunk in the pond. It was sup
posed to have belonged to this Solomon.
An Indian has been said to be responsible for the old
name of the pretty rounded hill on the left-hand side of the

30

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

Northborough road, just before reaching the village. It was
called, in deed and grants, " Licor hill," before 1662. In 1836
it was rechristened Mount Assabet. The story about the
Indian and his bottle is here given, copied from a small paper
published at that time by the boys of Dr. Allen's school.
" There was formerly, at the foot of this hill, a tavern
where an Indian stopped. On his return home he passed over
the hill, and sat down under a tree to take another refreshing
draught, not being able to resist the temptation any longer.
When he had drunk until he was entirely disabled from pro
ceeding any farther, his bottle (one of the ancient form, in
the shape of an old keg), by some unhappy accident, slipped
from his grasp and rolled down the hill. The Indian eyed it
wistfully on its rapid course, and, hearing the peculiar sound
of the liquor issuing from its mouth, called after it, ' Ay,
good, good, good ! I hear you, but I can't get at you.'"
There were, as early as this, a few Indians in this vicinity
who spoke English, but probably no tavern was built on the
" cow commons " of Marlborough. The Indian, doubtless,
had brought his bottle farther than the above historian sup
poses. Besides these few names, there are no traces of the early
Indians, except arrow-heads and spear-points turned up by
the farmer's plough, or found on the shore of North pond in
Hopkinton, in the fall, when the water is low.

THE FIRST SETTLERS.

31

CHAPTER II.

THE FIRST settlers.

HE larger part of Westborough was originally a
part of Marlborough. In 171 7, it, with North
borough, was set off as a separate town. Be
fore that, time there had been a small village here, called
Chauncy. Northborough was usually spoken of as the
" cow commons," or " cattle pasture." So many cattle were
sent there from Marlborougtf for pasturage, that several
houses were built solely for the use of the herders, the first
house put up within the limits of the town being designed
for this purpose.
These first settlers left no separate records, and the men
tion of them in the Proprietor's and Town Records of Marl
borough is meagre. They settled where the land attracted
them, built themselves houses, and in times of danger chose
some of the most centrally located for special fortification,
sometimes even building 'one particularly adapted to resisting
Indian attacks. These were called garrison-houses, and were
often the centre of Indian tragedies. There were two such

32

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

houses within the present bounds of Westborough, owned by
two brothers.
One of them, that of Edmund Rice, was situated on land
now owned by Harding Allen. The cellar was filled up
some years ago. It was on a knoll on the left-hand side
of the road from Westborough to the Lyman school, just
before reaching a narrow lane enclosed on each side by a
stone-wall. The lot is covered with apple-trees. The cellar
was between the second and third apple-trees from the
further front corner.
One of the stories that the old people a hundred years ago
told to their grandchildren was about Edmund Rice's cap
ture by Graylock, an old Indian living in the forests around
Westborough, who occasionaMy made raids on the settlers.
The women during the day were clustered together in the
garrison-houses, while the men, with their guns near by,
cleared their farms.
Edmund Rice was a young man, fitted by nature and cir
cumstances to be a pioneer in a new country. He was bold
and fearless, convinced that, whatever trouble might come
upon others, he would live to make for himself a name in
the annals of the new town. He would like to see the
Indians attempt to capture him ! Let Graylock come, — he
might get the worst of it !
One morning Rice was swinging his scythe through the

THE FIRST SETTLERS. 33
tall grass, with no suspicion of the dusky form creeping
stealthily towards him.
With one quick, agile spring, Graylock was between him
and his gun. He himself was armed, and all that Rice
could do was to take in silence the trail pointed out to him,
his captor following with levelled gun.
So they went for some distance. Rice, on the way, picking
up a stout stick, upon which he leaned more heavily as they
advanced on their journey.
There was but one chance of escape for him, and with his
usual boldness and intrepidity he took it. Turning around
quickly, when he saw that for a moment Graylock was look
ing in another direction, he felled him to the ground with his
heavy stick. Leaving him dead, he ran back lightly over
the fresh trail, and went on with his morning's work.
This was probably before 1 704, when the Indians revenged
the death of Graylock by killing one of Mr. Rice's sons and
capturing two others. This massacre occurred near the
garrison-house of his brother, Thomas Rice, which was
situated on the Christopher Whitney estate, on Main street,
then the " old Connecticut way."
The account of this raid was written by Rev. Peter
Whitney, the old Northborough minister and friend of Mr.
Parkman*. The latter doubtless heard the full particulars
of the story from Timothy Rice, one of the boys. He
Avrites : —

-. THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
"On August 8, 1704, as several persons were busy in
spreading flax on a plain about eighty rods from the house
of Mr. Thomas Rice (the first settler in Westborough, and
several years representative of the town of Marlborough in
the General Court), and a number of boys with them, seven,
some say ten, Indians suddenly rushed down a wooded hill
near by, and knocking the least of the boys on the head
(Nahor, about five years old, son of Mr. Edmund Rice, and
the first person ever buried in Westborough), they seized
two, Asher and Adonijah, — sons of Mr. Thomas Rice, — the
oldest about ten, and the other about eight years of age, and
two others, Silas and Timothy, sons of Mr. Edmund Rice,
above-named, of about nine and seven years of age, and
carried them away to Canada."
In about four years Asher was redeemed. Adonijah mar
ried and settled in Canada, while Silas and Timothy mixed
with the Indians, had Indian wives and children, and lost all
knowledge of the English language. Timothy became one
of their chiefs. They called him Oughtsorongoughton. In
September, 1740, he returned to Westborough and made a
short visit. Mr. Parkman writes : " They viewed the house
where Mr. Rice dwelt, and the place from whence the chil
dren were captivated, of both which he retained a clear re
membrance, as he did likewise of several elderly persons
who were then living, though he had forgot our language."

THE FIRST SETTLERS. 35
They then visited Governor Belcher. Timothy, as chief of
the Cagnawagas, was quite prominent in the history of the
time, and influential in keeping the Indians from joining the
English during the Revolution. The Cagnawagas were
the principal tribe of the Canadian Six. Nations. They
" peremptorily refused " to join the king's troops in Boston,
saying, that if they are obliged to take up arms on either
side, " that they shall take part on the side of their brethren,
the English in New England." Both brothers were living in
1790. This old garrison-house, as appears above, was standing in
1740. When John Robinson succeeded Mr. Parkman in
the ministry, he bought this place. Dr.' Bond was the
next owner ; then it was purchased and occupied by John
Fayerweather, the father of John A. Fayerweather. John
Fayerweather built the present house seventy-two or three
years ago. There was at that time on the place a large
house, showing many signs of age and the usual heavy tim
bers. The new house was built partly on the old cellar. This
old house may have been the garrison-house, or perhaps
it stood on the site of Reuben Boynton's barn, where,
seventy years ago, there was a cellar and well.
Daniel Warren, whose name appears among " the first
inhabitants of Westborough," lived on the farm, now divided
into the three farms of Seleucus Warren, Mrs. Austin Har-

36 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
rington, and George F. Harrington. In times of alarm he
carried his family to the Thomas Rice garrison. On one
such occasion he started with them all, but found he could
not reach the place with so many. One little boy had to be
left in the woods, concealed as carefully as a father's love
and anxiety could devise, while he went with the others to
the garrison, and returned for the little one.
Mr. William D. Howells has added another interest to the
old place by making it the home of his heroine in " Annie
Kilburn," and thus describes it as it now appears : —
" They came up in sight of the old square house, starfding
back a good distance from the road, with a broad sweep of
grass sloping down before it into a little valley, and rising
again to the wall fencing the grounds from the street. The
wall was overhung there by a company of magnificent elms,
which turned and formed one side of the avenue leading to
the house. Their tops met and mixed somewhat incongru
ously with those of the stiff dark maples, which more densely
shaded the other side of the lane."
There was another garrison-house within the old limits of
Westborough, owned by Samuel Goodenow. It was near
here that Mary Goodenow, his daughter, met her death at
the hands of the Indians. The " Boston News Letter " of
August 25, 1707, mentioned it in this way: "On Monday,
the i6th current, thirteen Indians on the frontier surprised

THE FIRST SETTLERS. 37
two men at their labors in the meadows at Marlborough,
about four miles distant from the body of the town, and
took them both alive; and, as they passed out of the town,
they took a woman also in their marching off, whom they
killed." Dr. Allen, in writing his " History of Northborough," pub
lished in 1826, gives an account of the massacre in these
words : " As Mary Goodenow, daughter of Samuel, and
Airs. Mary Fay, wife of Gershom Fay, were gathering herbs
in the adjoining meadow, a party of Indians, twenty-four in
number, all of whom are said to have been stout warriors,
were seen issuing from the woods and making for them.
Mrs. Fay succeeded in effecting her escape. She was
closely pursued by a party of the enemy, but before they
came up, had time to enter the garrison and to fasten the
gate of the enclosure. There fortunately happened to be
there one man within, the rest of the men belonging to the
garrison being in the fields at work. Their savage invaders
attempted in vain to break through the enclosure. These
heroic defenders, by dint of great exertion, maintained the
unequal conflict till a party of friends, alarmed by the report
of the muskets, came to the relief, when the enemy betook
themselves to flight.
" The other unfortunate young woman. Miss Goodenow,
being retarded in her flight by lameness, was seized by her

38 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
merciless pursuers, dragged across the brook to the side of
the hill a litde south of the road, where she was killed and
scalped, and where her mangled body was afterwards found
and buried, and where her grave is shown at this day.
" On the following day, the enemy were pursued by a
company of about thirty men from Marlborough and Lan
caster, and overtaken in what is now Sterling, where a hard
conflict ensued, in which nine of their number and two of
our men were slain. In one of their packs was found the
scalp of the unfortunate Miss Goodenow, which was the first
intimation tljat was obtained of her melancholy fate."
Her grave, now marked by stones, and soon to be honored
by the town with a monument, was opened a few years ago
by Mr. A. B. Howe, in the presence of Rev. Horace Dutton
and Rev. H. P. DeForest. Part of the skull and a thigh
bone were found.
Twenty years ago, a writer, the " Count Johannes," thus
described her grave, in the New York " News." He says
that he had been attracted to the spot by a lithograph
seen in one of the Worcester hotels, entitled the " Grave of
Mary Goodenow." He writes : " About two hundred feet
across a field of furze, moss, and grass, stand, and some six
feet apart, two wild pear-trees at the head and foot of a
raised stone-covered grave. Between the broken and mossy
rocks of the grave, flowers Were growing, and amono- them

THE FIRST SETTLERS. 30
the perfuming violet, as if fulfilling the prophetic wish of
Shakespeare in regard to the grave of the fair Ophelia, —
" 'Lay her in the earth,
And from her fair and unpolluted flesh
JNIav violets spring.'"
Dr. Allen locates the garrison-house on the right-hand
side of the road going from the centre of the town on the
"great road" to Marlborough, just before crossing Stirrup
brook. The house just beyond, on the left-hand side of the
road, now owned and occupied by William Bartlett, was
standing eighteen years after the massacre, when it was pur
chased by his ancestor. Ensign Daniel Bartlett. If not the
original garrison-house, it was nearly or quite contemporane
ous with it; and a well in the front yard, now filled up, was
said by Mr. Bartlett's grandfather to have been the old gar
rison well. It was when standing by an attic window in the
newer part of this old house — the west end — th'at Ensign
Bartlett was fired upon by some Indians, the bullet passing
through the window.
Within the limits of Westborough there is no house left
of those built by the original proprietors ; though the one
of James Miller, who was annexed with others to the town
in 1728, was burned only three or four years ago. The
stone chimney of this house, thirteen feet wide, still stands

40

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

on Jackstraw hill, west of the road, — the top having fallen
over, and the three large fireplaces opening disconsolately
to the outside air. This
house was referred to as
" James Miller's new house,"
in 1726.
Very near the West
borough line, but faUing
within the bounds of South-
borough, stands one of the
oldest houses in the vicinity.

O-iaivt^'

It was built in the typical style of the period, with an
immense stone chimney, hke that of James Miller's con
taining three flues. There is a room on the right of this

THE FIRST SETTLERS. 41
chimney, with a fireplace extending half one side, where
the blackened stones can still be seen. Back of this is a
long, narrow room used for kitchen, dining-room, and family
living-room. These are the only rooms on the lower floor,
and upstairs there is the one chamber over the parlor, while
over the kitchen is the narrow attic, moderately high nearest
the chimne}', but shut in on the outer edge by the sloping
roof. When originally built, this house, like nearly all,
was planned for two families. The third fireplace in the
chimney, that on the left of the house, opens out-of-doors,
though a temporary door was built to keep out the cold.
If more room had been needed, a room like the one on the
right would have been added on the left.
A house built in similar style is the one now standing
on Main street, owned by George A. Ferguson. This,
more than a hundred and twenty-five years ago, had re
ceived the usual addition for the married son's accommoda
tion. The chimney is of brick, which was manufactured
very early in the young town's history from the " clay
lands " in Marlborough, Southborough, and Northborough.
This house was built by Moses Brigham, and here he
brought his bride Mehetabel. She was a member of the
Grout family, and her wooing by young Brigham caused
many heart-burnings and wild frenzies of jealousy to the
daughter of his step-mother. One evening, when she knew

42

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

that he planned to ride over to see Mehetabel, she slipped
out to the stable and hamstrung Selim, his favorite horse.
Moses Brigham lived here until his death ; then his son-in-

/'oTt>e5 i\o ni tistedi.

law, Jonathan Forbes, took possession of the north end of
the house, and the widowed Mehetabel lived in the south
end. It remained in the possession of the Forbes family
until about twenty years ago. It has the usual curiosities
of the carpentry of those days, one of the . doors — that

THE FIRST SETTLERS. 43
from the sitting-room to the kitchen — having dim heart-
shaped panes of glass set in the upper half
There is now_standing in Sudbury, not far from the Way
side Inn, the Walker garrison, built and used for that
purpose during King Philip's war. The timbers are very
heavy, the outside walls are of planks set up endwise,
and fastened to the timbers by large wooden pins. Outside
of the planks it is clapboarded. It is probably the only one
of its kind within easy access of Westborough, and is one of
the very few near by which has attained an age of two
hundred years. It is easily reached from Westborough by
driving nearly to the Wayside Inn, and taking the last
road to the left before reaching the inn. Following the
road about a mile we come to two short lanes turning
abruptly to the left, and leaving the main road at nearly the
same point. A few rods on the second of these lanes
brings us to this old red garrison, now owned by Willard
Walker, the fourth generation of that family who has lived
in the house. ,
John Belknap was not among the original settlers of West
borough, but came to town soon after its incorporation.
He built a log hut near Rocklawn, where he lived alone.
Every evening he made a fire around his hut, to keep off
the wolves which he heard howling all night. During the
day. he worked in his field, "his gun by his side. One day,

44 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
glancing up from his work, he thought the woods seemed
nearer to him than usual. He kept on working, but when
he looked up a second time they appear.ed still nearer.
Looking closely, he saw that a large company of Indians
were coming towards him, each one carrying a small -white
birch. He had seen them in time to get to the house, and
so escaped capture.
Part of the Belknap farm is now owned by Willard
Loring. It is just in the corner of the Flanders road as
you turn to go to the mill. A hen-house is built over
the cellar of his old home.
The name "Flanders," according to a wide-spread tradi
tion, was given to this part of the town from the resemblance
of its society to that in old Flanders, usually devastated by
war. They quarrelled over rights of way, over property
bounds, over personal and family matters ; they were
brought before the church, prayed over and striven with.
The name was in common use more than a hundred
years ago.
On this farm John Belknap spent the rest of his days.
Here, at the age of eighty, he began his married life with
Joanna Kindall, twice widowed, her first husband being
Jonathan Forbes, Jr. Neither men nor women in those days
believed in "single blessedness," and Joanna had taken to

THE FIRST SETTLERS: 45
herself a second husband, before her portion of her first
husband's property had been set off.
Among the. farms annexed to Westborough in 1728
was that of James Bowman. This farm has been in the
possession of his descendants until within a few years.
It is the second on the west side of the road leading south
from No. 5 school-house. When he first went to the place,
it was entirely surrounded by woods. To the south-west
lies a high hill, called Vine hill, from the innumerable "dry
strawberry " vines (^Potentilla Canadensis) which covered
its sides.
One time, when he was hoeing at the foot of this hill,
he heard steps behind him. Turning around he saw a
large bear. With the hoe in his hand he ran to the house,
and succeeded in reaching it safely. Getting his gun, he
came out and shot the bear.
His son inherited tiie place, and built, the house now
standing. In 1780 occurred one of the frightful snow-storms
which sometimes visited New England in the last century.
After the storm was over, the snow was piled up to the
second-story windows of this house. In such straits him
self, Mr. Bowman remembered his less fortunate neighbors
who lived in one-story houses. Calling his boys to put on
their rackets, he told them to go over and see if neighbor
Tribbet was suffering for anything. Tribbet lived in the

46 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
little old house now standing next to No. 5 school-house,
on the north side.
It was with much difficulty they found the hut, — a faint
line of smoke on the surface of the snow finally revealing
the chimney. They called down to him : —
" Anything wanted, Tribbet? "
"No," came up his answer; "blessed be nothing. Go
home and mind your cattle."

OLD ROADS AND TAVERNS.

47

CHAPTER III.

OLD ROADS AND TAVERNS.

|EFORE the incorporation of Westborough, there
were three roads to Boston passing through the
territory soon to become the new town.
They all went by the name of Bay path, as did the in
numerable trails made by the first settlers from Massachu
setts Bay to the inland settlements. In the " Bay Path " J.
G. Holland has given a description of the one leading to
Springfield, which is equally true of them all. He says it
was " a path marked by trees a portion of the distance, and
by slight clearings of brush and thicket for the remainder.
No stream was bridged, no hill graded, and no marsh
drained. . . It was the one way left open through
which the sweet tide of sympathy might flow. Every rod
had been prayed over by friends on the journey and friends
at home. If every traveller had raised his Ebenezer, as the
morning dawned upon his trusting sleep, the monuments
would have risen and stood like mile-stones." And writing
of it as it was a few years later he says: "The Bay path

48 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
had been changed from a simple bridle-path to a worn and
frequented highway. Packed horses went and came upon
it through all the summer and autumn ; land-hunters in
merry parties cantered along its shady aisles ; emigrants
coming from and returning to the Bay, with strange freights
of children and household stuffs, and droves of cows and
goats, crept along the solitudes which it divided, and lighted
nightly their lonely fires."
The oldest of these Bay paths passing through West
borough was the old " Indian trail," called by the first settlers
the " Kenecticut path," first trodden by white explorers in
1633, when John Oldham, Samuel Hall, and two others
made a trip from the Bay to the river, for the purpose of
exploring the country and trading with the natives. The
Indians treated them with great hospitality, and they
lodged every night in Indian towns. (Winthrop's Journal,
I., III.)
Two years later, " about sixty men, women, and little
children went by land towards Connecticut, with their cows,
horses, and swine, and after a tedious and difficult journey
arrived safe there." (Winthrop, I., 171.)
The same year twelve men returned, losing one of their
number on the way.
In 1636 Rev. Thomas Hooker, pastor of the church at
Newtown, now Cambridge, with most of his congregation,

OLD ROADS AND TAVERNS. ^g
accompanied by Rev. Samuel Stone, went to Connecticut.
Trumbull (I., 55) says : " They had no cover but the heaven,
nor any lodgings but those simple nature afforded them.
They drove with them one hundred head of cattle, and by
the way subsisted on the milk of their cows. Mrs. Hooker
was borne through the wilderness upon a horse-litter. The
people generally carried their packs, arms, and some uten
sils. They were nearly a fortnight on the journey."
In 1637 Messrs. Hooker and Stone returned by water,
but at the same time a party of twelve or more came, as
Winthrop says, " the ordinary way by land."
This path commenced at Watertown, and from there to
Framingham it is called a highway as early as 1643. It
crossed the Boston & Albany Railroad in Framingham
near the Para Rubber Works, making many turns before
reaching the cold spring on the Frankland place in Ash
land, from there coming to Westborough. The part in
town which can still be followed begins at the barn belong
ing to Jacob Mortimer on the edge of Hopkinton. For a
quarter of a mile or more it is a good cart-path, easily gone
over by wagons. Going the length of Mr. Mortimer's farm,
most of the way through a wood-lot, it passes north
east of the Lovell Miller place, crosses the road near J. A.
Parker's cider-mill, and is lost near Rev. H. W. Fay's.
Judging from its course on the old maps, it went over Mt.

so

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

Pleasant, and formed one of the two roads entering Hassa
namisco a hundred and fifty years ago. It is still spoken of
as the " old road to Sutton."
The second of these roads, called in the histories, as is
the first, the Nipmuck or old Connecticut road, was prob
ably a branch of the first. It came from Marlborough,
following, according to tradition, an Indian trail, over Rock
hill. Dr. Allen, in his " History of Northborough, " published
in 1826, says it crossed east of Great and Little Chaney,
and probably it followed nearly the course of Westborough's
present Main street, into Grafton. It must have joined the
trail from Hopkinton somewhere this side of Grafton, per
haps not far from No. 6 school-house.
Taking the first cart-path leading into the woods on the
right-hand side of the south road from Northborough to
Marlborough, very near the highest point where the road
crosses Rock hill, and following it for about four hundred
feet, brings us to its intersection with the old trail from
Marlborough. Continuing in nearly the same direction in
which we started, the path leads to the railroad ; crossing
this where there is a deep cut, it goes over Cedar hill (now
Frye hill), nearly over Brigham hill (once owned by
Winthrop Brigham), across the regular Westborough road
near where there is at present a cart-path just north of the
Hospital pasture. Here it probably divided, — one part

OLD ROADS AND TAVERNS. 51
going down the line of the present road as far as Grafton,
while another followed for a little way this cart-path ; then
went between Great and Little Chauncy, by the Elihu Fay
place, now owned by S. W. Rice, by Stephen Maynard's
old house, to a rise of ground at the junction of the Assabet
and Hop brook, called Hasting's island, about half a mile
above the bridge on the Northborough road. This island,
so called, was a camping-ground of the Indians when on
their fishing excursions.
Near this trail, perhaps directly on it, was the place where
all the men, women, and children of the tribes near by
congregated for their annual " corn-dance." The exact
spot, handed down by tradition from the first settlers, is the
corner where three farms come together, — that of the Hos
pital, and those belonging to G. P. Heath and Anson White.
The corn-dance was a great festival among the Indians, and
is still kept up by the western tribes. Large quantities of
fish and corn were made ready, fires were built, and while
the fish was cooking and the corn roasting, the guests
danced around the fire to the monotonous music of the
" tambo," — a kind of drum thrummed by the natives. The
sound thus produced was not unlike the articulation of an
Indian, — a continuous " tum, tum."
The third, or " New Connecticut Way," called the " King's
Highway," "the old post road," " the stage road," and the

52 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
great road, — the latter name still clinging to it, — was
partly within the old hmits of Westborough, passing from
the centre of the town of Marlborough, through North
borough and Shrewsbury, to Worcester. It is said that this
road was laid out by the cattle, in their frequent journeys to
and from the Northborough pastures ; and when Major John
Pynchon, in 1683, examined all the country in this vicinity,
to find the easiest and best route for a new Connecticut way,
he could find none better than that chosen by the instinct of
these unreasoning beasts.
Major Pynchon's authority for locating a new highway
was an order from the General Court, as follows : —
" Whereas the Way to Kornecticut, now used being
very hazardous to travellers by reason of one deepe river
that is passed fower or five times over, which may be
avoided, it is referred to Major Pynchon to order ye said
way to be laid out and well-marked. He having hired two
injins to guide him in the way for fifty shillings, it is ordered
that the Treasurer pay them the same in country pay
towards effecting this worke."
In 177s this road is called, in one of the almanacs of the
day, " the Western toll road." The following taverns were
situated on its way in this vicinity : In Sudbury, Howe's ;
in Marlborough, Howe's and Williams' ; in Northborough,
Martin's ; and in Shrewsbury, Pease's. Most of them were

OLD ROADS AND TAVERNS. 53
famous hostelries in their day. The innkeeper was usually
not only one of the most prominent citizens, but most moral,
upright, and worthy. Every innkeeper had to be licensed by
the Court of Common Pleas, and must bring sufficient testi
monials as to his character from the selectmen and others in
authority. What was required of a landlord in those early days
is shown by the bond of Col. Thomas Howe, who kept a public
house in Marlborough in 1696. It requires " that he shall
not suffer or have any playing at cards, dice, tally, bowls,
nine pins, billiards, or any other unlawful game or games in
his said house, or yard, or gardens, or backside, nor shall
suffer to remain in his house any person or persons, not
being his own family, on Saturday night after dark, or on
the Sabbath days, or during the time of God's Public Worship ;
nor shall he entertain as lodgers in his house any strangers
men or women, above the space of forty-eight hours, but
such whose names and surnames he shall deliver to one of
the selectmen or constable of the tdwn, unless they shall be
such as he very well knoweth, and will ensure for his or
their forthcoming — nor shall sell any wine to the Indians or
negroes, nor suffer any children or servant, or other person to
remain in his house, tippling or drinking after nine o'clock
in the night — nor shall buy or take to preserve any stolen
goods, nor willingly or knowingly harbor in his house, barn,
stable, or otherwhere, any rogues, vagabonds, thieves, sturdy

54 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
beggars, masterless men and women, or other notorious
offenders whatsoever — nor shall any person or persons
whatsoever, sell or utter any wine, beer, ale, cider, rum,
brandy, or other liquors by defaulting, or by color of his
license — nor shall entertain any person or persons to whom
he shall be prohibited by law, or by any one of the magis
trates of the county, as persons of jolly conversation or
given to tippling."
Nearly all the landlords of these old. New England inns
had some military title, won in the militia or Revolution.
About a dozen miles from Westborough, in the old town
of Sudbury, stands Howe's tavern, which has achieved a
more enduring reputation as Longfellow's Wayside Inn.
The early -history of the place is very incomplete. It is sup
posed that a small house, containing the present kitchen,
was standing in King Philip's war. In 1680 the bar-room
was added. It grew gradually to its present size, the last
addition being made seventy years ago, when there was a
grand dedication ball, Jerusha, " the belle of Sudbury," —
the only daughter of Adam Howe, then proprietor, — serving
the wine and the pound-cake which she had made with
her own hands.
Should you chance to ask any gentleman who was a
young man in Sudbury more than sixty years ago, if he
knew Jerusha Howe, his eye would brighten as he answers.

OLD ROADS AND TAVERNS.

55

" Oh yes, I knew Jerusha. She was a handsome girl, tall
and slim, and bright and smart." For a long time the
little pale-blue satin slippers, with satin ribbon plaited
around the edges, which she wore at this ball, were kept

in the house ; and all the pretty gowns, so' different and
so much better than those of most of the country girls,
were treasured by her parents. Longfellow speaks of her
spinet, — it was the first one owned in Sudbury.

56 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
It is supposed that the "Howe tavern of Sudbury" was
first opened as a public house in 1700 or 1701, but the
landlord's license is dated 17 16. In 1746 Col. Ezekiel
Howe took his father's place as innkeeper, and put up the
sign which gave to it the name of Red Horse tavern.
Adam and Lyman Howe were the last two proprietors,
and then, in i860, it was closed to the public, though
still owned by a descendant of the Howe family.
The poet and the artist have made familiar to all this " old
Hobgoblin Hall," with its gambrel roof, many clustering
out-buildings, and hollow, gnarled old oaks. The follow
ing description is taken from " The Undiscovered Country,"
by W. D. Howells : " They approached the storied man
sion through a long stretch of pine and sand, by a road
which must be lonelier now than it was a hundred years
ago. They dismounted under the elm before the vast
yellow hostelr}', and explored its rambling chambers ; they
saw Lafayette's room, and Washington's room, the attic
for the slaves and common-folk, the quaint ball-room, the
bar, the parlor where Longfellow and his friends used to
sit before the fire that forever warms the rhyme celebrat
ing the Wayside Inn. They found it not an inn any
more, though it appeared, from the assent of the tenant,
that they might command an elusive hospitality for the
night. The back door opened upon the fading memories

OLD ROADS AND TAVERNS.

57

of a garden, and the damp of late rain struck from it into
the sad old house."
The tap-room is one of the most interesting in the
house, with its quaint bar and portcullis raised and lowered
at will, and made so that even when closed, drinks could
be passed beneath it. The thick oak flooring in this room
was worn through, and within a few years has been re
placed. In one corner of the room is a steep flight of
stairs leading into a chamber, where were five beds for the
especial accommodation of drovers. The only two rooms
which were let to one individual at a time are those now
called the Lafayette chambers, because once the great
general spent a night in them. The walls of these rooms
are covered with the oldest style of wall-paper in the
country, — " the blue-bell pattern." It is stamped by
hand on small squares. The floor was polished oak,
decorated with blue and brown flowers.
There are few relics of the olden days to be seen in
the house. The gorgeous arms still remain as in the time
when Longfellow wrote : —
" In the parlor full in view
His coat of arms, well framed and glazed,
Upon the Avail in colors blazed.
He beareth gules upon his shield,
A chevron argent in the field

58 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
With three wolves' heads, and for the crest
A 'Wyvern part-per-pale addressed
Upon a helmet barred ; below
The scroll reads, ' By the name of Howe.' "
The small panes of glass on which young Molineux left
his autograph have been removed from the windows and
framed. The lines, in scraggly writing, are as follows : —
" -What do you think.'
Here is good drink, —
Perhaps you may not know it;
If not in haste, do stop and taste,
You merry folks, we'll show it.
" Wm. Molineux, Jr., Esq.
" 24th Jtine, ITJ4, Boston."
He was a son of William Molineux, who walked beside
the kings' troops in Boston to save them from the insults
of the towns-people. Major Molineux has been immor
talized by Hawthorne, in the sketch bearing his name,
printed with the " Snow Image, and other Twice-told Tales."
Up in the attic is the bunk built against the wall where
Porter, usually called Port, the dwarf slave, used to sleep.
The only means of reaching this is up a steep ladder.
Porter was among the last slaves owned in Massachusetts.
He was a timid little fellow, often hiding under the low

OLD ROADS AND TAVERNS. eg
shelf in the hall-way when strangers were present. When
the law was made abolishing slavery in the State, Colonel
Ezekiel Howe, then landlord, told Port he was free. " No,
no, Massa," he answered; "you have had the meat, and
now you may have the bones."
The Howes were stanch Tories, and during the Revolu
tion three British soldiers were hidden for some days in
the cellar. The house was suspected and watched, but
they escaped by climbing up the chimney and down the
roof on the back. The tavern was very popular with the
soldiers on both sides ; its reputation for good liquor was
equally well known by Patriot and Tory. Every one
knew Aunt Margie Carter, the famous cook at the inn
during the Revolution. She was a single lady, smart and
capable, a true New England girl, and fully equal to taking
the whole charge when Mrs. Howe had gone to cook for
the soldiers stationed in the barracks farther down the road.
She knew when to bar the door against guests who threat
ened to be too unruly, and was not easily frightened by the
violent quarrelling, that sometimes went on under the old
roof. She carried her own little tin cup in her pocket,
and never lost an opportunity of slipping down to the
"rum cellar" to fill it.
The Howes owned two "full sets" of pewter (one dozen
of each kind of article forming a set), — platters, plates, and

6o

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

porringers, large and small. The cups in daily use were of
earthen-ware, very tiny, scarcely holding two large spoon
fuls. For very special guests, the solid silver cup, which
was brought over from England by the first Howe, was
set upon the table. In later days, when Lyman Howe was
proprietor, twice a year the pewter was scoured and put
back on the dresser in the kitchen, while the silver and
china cups were kept in the parlor cupboard.
At the Wayside Inn, Capt. Timothy Bigelow, of Worces
ter, rested his troops on the way to Lexington, April
19' 177s, when the news had just come that the war had
begun. The house probably owes its good fortune in surviving
the Indian wars to the fact that the Indians were always
friendly to the Howes. These old innkeepers seem to have
been remarkably politic, and had the rare faculty of con
ciliating all parties. Many little presents found their way
to the Indians. Among the most acceptable were the
gorgeous feathers from the peacocks that strutted and
screamed on the lawn in front.
It is only a fancy of the poet that a party consisting of
Longfellow and his friends : the student, Henry Wales, of
Boston ; the Sicihan, Professor Luigi Monti, of Boston ; the
musician, Ole Bull, of Norway; the theologian. Professor
Treadwell; and the poet, Thomas William Parsons, —

OLD ROADS AND TAVERNS. 6 1
" From the far-off noisy town
Had to the Wayside Inn come down
To rest beneath its old oak trees."
Many of them, perhaps all, at some time or other, visited the
place with which their names are to be always associated.
Parsons some years later published a volume of poems called
" The Shadow of Obelisk," containing two poems on the
Wayside Inn, which would te of little interest had not the
greater poet rendered valuable everything connected with
the old house.* One of these is called " Guy Fawkes' Day
at the Old House in Sudbury," and has a bit of pretty-
description of the old dance-hall, in these words : —
"But the scutcheon is faded that hangs on the wall;
And the hearth looks forlorn in the desolate hall ;
And the floor that has bent with the minuet's tread.
It is like a church pavement, — the dancers are dead."
The other poem is called " The Old House in Sudbury,
Twenty Years After," and was written after it had ceased
to be an inn. "Never to his father's hostel
Comies a kinsman or a guest;
Midnight calls for no more candles;
House and landlord both have rest."
Passing along the Connecticut road towards Worcester,

62 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
the next stopping-place was " The Howe Tavern of Marl
borough," called " The Black Horse." A few miles farther
along, the coaches drew up at Williarns', just opposite
Williams' Pond. There is still a tavern on the old location,
as there has been since the days of Abraham Williams, two
hundred years ago ; but the present building was erected
in 1822. The Duke de la Rochefoucault stopped here,
and has left the following tribute to the kindness of Captain
Williams' family, which gives a pleasant picture of the
home qualities of New England inns in th5 early part of
this century. He writes : —
" Although excessively ill, I was sensible of my dread
ful situation, being thus laid on a bed of sickness among
people who had never seen me before ; and this idea threw
me into great agitation of mind, which bordered on despair.
But, fortunately, the family at whose house I had stopped
were the best people in the world. Both men and women
took as much care of me, as if I had been their own
child. ... I must repeat it once more, that I cannot be
stow too much praise on the kindness of this excellent
people. Being a stranger, utterly unacquainted with them,
sick, and appearing in the garb of mediocrity bordering on
indigence, I possessed not the least claim on the hospitality
of this respectable family, but such as their own kindness and
humanity could suggest; and yet, during the five days

OLD ROADS AND TAVERNS. Q-<
I continued in their house, they neglected their own
business to nurse me with the tenderest care and with
unwearied solicitude. They heightened still more the
generosity of their conduct by making up their account
in a manner so extremely reasonable, that three times
the amount would not have been too much for the trouble
I had caused them."
In 1789 Washington made a triumphal tour through New
England. He passed down the great road. " In every place
through which' he passed, the inhabitants, of all ranks, ages,
and conditions, testified their joy at the opportunity to
behold the political savior of their country." He came in
his own carriage, his equipage being described by one of the
spectators as follows : —
"I. A gentleman in uniform on a beautiful dapple-gray
horse. " 2. Next, two aids on dapple-gray horses, in uniform.
" 3. Bay horses with two negro boys as riders, the horses
attached to a travelling-carriage, in which sat General Wash
ington. " 4. Behind was the baggage -wagon, with two bay horses,
containing the baggage." (Reminiscences of Worcester,
Wall, p. 242.)
He reached Worcester, October 23, 178.9, breakfasted there,
then went on by the house of General Ward, still standing.

64

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

a short distance beyond Pease tavern. He had superseded
General Ward as commander-in-chief, and the old general
did not go to his door or look out as the President went by.
On Sandy hill, — the first hill after crossing Stirrup brook,
in Northborough, just beyond the house of William Bartlett,
— Captain Rice's company of horse, well mounted and
uniformed, were waiting to esdort him to Marlborough.
They took him to Williams' tavern, where he dined.
The last road associated with old coaching days is the
turnpike, built in 1806 by the Worcester Turnpike Associa
tion. Four stages ran daily between Worcester and
Roxbury ; the fare was two dollars. The coaches were
sometimes crowded, — twelve persons being inside, and five
or six on top. They rushed up and down the hills, the
horses often wild and ugly, and reckless as the men. This
road was laid out in a straight line, up hill and down, as was
the way of turnpikes, — a characteristic which perhaps they
owe to the indomitable will of their founder, Levi Pease.
It happened in Westborough to go by the door of the old
Forbush tavern, now standing, where it joins Lyman street.
It gave a new impetus to the old inn, which was much
lessened when Mr. Wesson opened the large tavern at Wes-
sonviUe, now owned and occupied by the Lyman school.
In 1 8 12 the soldiers enlisted for the war stayed for a while
in Lambert Forbush's barn, — Lambert Forbush at that time

OLD ROADS AND TAVERNS.

65

keeping the Forbush tavern. When the roll was called, one
morning, three men — all from Hopkinton — were missing.
One of them — OUan Barrett, the grandson of Mr. Park-
man's old friend, Mr. Barrett, the minister — had dug out
under the sills of the barn, and escaped to the swamp. Here
he hid himself in the hollow trunk of a prostrate cedar, into
which he backed, and then filled up the open end. He was
recaptured, as were the other two, named Bixby, and sent
to Fort Warren. All managed to escape again, Barrett
returning to his home in Hopkinton, where he was hidden in
the attic for a week ; while one of the Bixbys — Lovett —
was again recaptured, and sentenced to be shot. By cross
ing a river at " the seat of war," so tempestuous that it had
not been thought necessary to guard it, he escaped to the
Indians, where he married the chieftain's daughter. She was
loaded down with gold and ornaments, which her reckless
husband succeeded in obtaining from her, and then made his
escape to his own kindred.
The soldiers, while stationed at the old tavern, amused
themselves by fishing for Barker Forbush's geese, — he lived
in a house by the pond, — and succeeded in capturing one
old gander with their fish-hook and bait of corn. The owner
went to the barracks, but no one knew aught of the missing
goose. The soldiers marched away to more serious work,
over the newly built turnpike.

66

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

Mr. Wesson kept this old tavern for five years before
building the one now known by his name.
For a few years Wessonville rivalled the centre of the
town ; stores were opened there, a thread factory started,
houses built, the old parsonage was demolished to make way
for a new house, — all was life and stir. But in 1834 the
railroad was put through ; the days of coaching were over,
and Wessonville was no longer the busy centre it had been.
It was at Wesson's tavern where Lafayette stopped for
dinner, when he went, in 1825, to the laying of the corner
stone of Bunker Hill monument. About forty men and boys
from Westborough were gathered around the door to see the
great man go in. He is remembered by one of the boys
who saw him as a very large man, slightly lame, and carry
ing a silver-headed cane. He responded simply and politely
to the eager welcomes of the people.

THE MINISTER'S FAMILY. ^j
CHAPTER IV.
THE MINISTER'S FAJIILY.
IN the first quarter of the last century there was
erected on the hill where now stands the Lyman
school a goodly house for the Westborough min
ister. Ebenezer Parkman was a young man, fresh from
Harvard, married a few months before to Mary Champney,
of Boston. They were both from good families, and had
been brought up amidst many comforts and luxuries. - They
were to be not only the directors of the spiritual and moral
growth of the people, but their social head. Their house
was not for themselves alone, there all were to be made
welcome, — not quite as equals, to be sure, but they were to
be treated with a dignity so mingled with gentleness and kind
ness that they did not notice the slight condescension which
the " dark " and " madam," his wife, unconsciously felt.
The parsonage stood where the farm-house connected with
the Lyman school now stands. When it was torn down, in
1830, most of the cellar- wall was rebuilt; but in some parts
the old wall was used. The timbers from the house were
thrown in the yard, where they lay until some of them were
used in repairing the shed by Mr. William White, who bought

68 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
the place, in 1833. By going under the shed at the farther
end of the barnyard, these timbers may be seen and recog
nized by their large size, their material, which is white
oak, the way they are mortised together, and the holes where
they were formerly fastened by wooden pins.
For a hundred years this house, with its heavy oak beams
and solid carpentry, provided comfortable shelter to its
owners. It was built in the prevalent style of the times, but
larger and grander than most outside of the large towns.
It was a two-story house, with two large stone chimneys,
and a lean-to sloping down to one story in the rear. On the
front were nine windows, with small diamonds of glass set in
leaden sashes. The door-step was a large flat stone. Enter
ing the hall, the dignity of the place impressed the visitor as
he saw the heavy block stairs turning with several landings,
like those of a modern Queen Anne cottage, and the oak-
rail six inches in diameter, cut out by hands in the Old Coun
try into clumsy flutings. On either side was a door leading
into the parlor and living-room, and beyond the stairs a
long narrow entry led to the "meal-room" in the " linter."
From the room on the left of the hall there was a door open
ing into a small entry, from which one door led out-of-doors,
another into the kitchen, where the immense fireplace and
large brick ovens took the whole of one side of the room
There were no bhnds or shutters, and probably paper cur-

THE MINISTER'S FAMILY.

69

tains were all the protection they had from the sun. The
finish was oak, the walls wainscoted, and covered above with
a thick, dark paper brought from England. Upstairs the
arrangement of rooms was similar to those below, only over
the small side hall was the minister's study, where he wrote
his sermons, kept his " diurna," and meditated on the uncer
tainties of life and the proneness of human nature to deprav
ity and sin.
A little north-west of the house was the first church, situ
ated in this lonely place for the convenience of its members
coming from both ends of Westborough, the two ends after
wards separating into two towns, one keeping the old name,
and the other becoming Northborough.
Packed away among the few stately gowns of Madam
Parkman, the strong household linen, the black robe which
the minister was to wear in the pulpit, and the few printed
books which in those days formed a library, were two small
manuscript volumes.
One of these was a little book, which, after the manner of
those early college students, young Parkman had filled with
rhymes and stories of more or less merit, written by himself
at Harvard, and ornamented by specimens of fancy penman
ship and sketches of birds, flowers, and scrolls. This book
is now in possession of Mrs. Nahum Fisher.
On one page is written, " Ebenezer Parkman, his book,
1 71 7," — the year that V/estborough was incorporated.

70 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
One verse is addressed to his father: —
" I am but young in Art and Cannot Show
Such lines as I unto your Goodness owe,
Yet please to Smile upon this small endeavor
I'll strive to Mend and be obedient ever."
Another, illustrated by a pen-and-ink drawing of a
grotesque peacock, probably often came to his mind as he
heard his own gorgeous birds shrieking on the grass plats
around the parsonage : —
" The curious colour'd Birds give us to See
They borrow nottheir beauteous bravery
But Man is proud of what is not his own
Tho' to his Shame his borrow'd Pride be known."
Another showed more skill, and, judging from the title,
was more favorably regarded by the author than most in the
book. It is called "Treason against King George Wittily
Turned." "I love with all my heart The Tory Party here
The Hanoverian part Most hateful doth appear
And for that settlement I ever have denied
My Conscience gives Consent To be on James's Side
Most righteous is ye Cause To fight for such a thing
To fight for George's laws Will England's ruin bring
It is my mind and heart In this opinion I
Tho none will take my part Resolve to live and Dye."
Mr. Parkman was a good follower of King George.
The second volume, three and one-half by six, inches, is
inscribed : —

©O/O-lo.
DIURNA OR
An Account
OF
The Remarkable
TRANSACTIONS OF
Every Day
No. 7.
being a continuation of a Design form'd
in the year 1719-20. Feb'y 19.
Prov. 14. 8 Ps. 90. 12.

72 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
In this book he jotted down, in a microscopic hand,
the small events of every-day life, thus saving for us
many interesting details of himself and others.
He begins the new year of 1724 with the purchase of a
bear-skin muff, and the gift of a peacock and peahen
from one of his lady parishioners.
In connection with his house he owned a large farm,
on which he spends his own spare moments, advising
and assisting his hired man, Robert Henry. He paid
Robert £2^ z. year.
In times of special work, when the corn was to be hoed
or crops got in, he hired some of the many Indians, who
used to come over from the "praying-town" of Hassa
namisco (now Grafton), to work for small pay. There
were both men amd women, — sometimes a man and his
wife, — and they would stay several days, and find some place
in the parsonage or barn to spend the nights. July 18,
1726, he says, "This morn Joshua Misco & his Squa
hoed my corn." Joshua Misco (according to the General
Court Records, vol. 12) was, in 1725, one of the thirty- two
Indian proprietors of Hassanamisco; in 1728 he was one
of the eight who signed the deed conveying the town to the
white purchasers.
Mr. Parkman owned a mare, which he rode when visit
ing his parishioners, and let at a reasonable rate to his less
fortunate neighbors.

THE MINISTER'S FAMILY. 73
In the house Silence Bartlett was " help," and received as
wages £^ a year. As one after another a new baby was
added to the household cares, her hands and those of her
successor, Hannah Puddison, were too full, and Mr. Park-
man decided to spend part of his salary in purchasing a
slave " boy," whose work was to lie wholly in the house
and in personal attendance on the family. He bought one
of his father's servants, and thus writes in his diary :
"Aug. 8, 1728, I entered into obligation to my father
for the boy (Negro) Barrow — my father gave me 5^^ I. p'd.
him 3i^ — and gave a promissory note to pay 66£ — the
whole making 74;^, which was the price of him; " and the
next day : " I rode to Cambridge. Barrow alias Maro
running on foot."
But Marc's life at the parsonage was destined to be short,
and a year later Mr. Parkman writes, under date of Decem
ber 5, 1729, after mentioning the various afflictions which
he was then undergoing: "But especially Maro at Point
of Death." And again, December 6: "Dark as it has
been with us, it became much Darker about y" Sun
Setting. The Sun of MARO'S life Sat. The first Death
in my family ! God, enable me to see thy Sovereign mind
and comport with his holy Will. As my servant is sum
moned to go before, so God only knows whether his Mas
ter is not shortly to follow after, and so y" former to prove
as a Harbinger to the latter."

„. THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
Sometimes he records a gift from his parishioners, as
on May 3, 1724, when, in making his pastoral calls, he
says he " called at several places and at Mr. Josiah Newtons.
These last gave me a pair of shoes for myself and a pair
for my lad."
Presents of food were not at all unusual, — a " handsome
cheese " being the most common expression of good-will.
In 1778, he says, "At eve came Mr. Elisha Forbes & his
wife to visit us, and brought an extraordinary present, 31
pounds of Meat, Beef and Pork & a Cheese of 12 pounds,
^and supped with us. Mr. Forbes also offered that I would
take one of y" Boston Newspapers, he w* pay for a year.
May God reward his Benevolence & Generosity ! "
Just a year later, to a day, December 4, 1779, he writes:
" Breck returns from Boston . . . He brings me a
present from my son Sam'l a valuable silk handkerchief
of fifty Dollars price, much wanted."
In another manuscript volume left by Mr. Parkman, and
rarely written in, except on his birthdays, he has a list of
special mercies, drawn up April 15, 1729. This he calls
" Divine Benignity in Providence."
A few of them, with the numbers he affixed to them, are
as follows : —
" 12. The Distinguishing Honours and Gracious Presence
of God at my ordination Oct. 28 in ye same year 1724."

THE MINISTER'S FAMILY. 75
" 17. My wife's Restoration and Recovery from her great
pains and illness July 1726 under ye care of Rev. Mr. Barrett
& Mrs. Whitcomb. This is to be remembered as a special
appearance of God for us."
"21. Still greater and more remarkable Salvation in the
Great Earthquake and I would more special notice be
taken of it because I would lay those Threatenings of Divine
Providence with the awakening of his word publickly deliv
ered ye day before : which compleating the third year since
gathering our church and my own ordination I preached on
Luk. 13. 7." This text is, "Then said he unto the dresser
of his vineyard, Behold, these three years I come seeking
fruit on this fig-tree, and find none: cut it down; why cum-
bereth it the ground? "
" 26. I would put into this account the Fav'' of my Li
brary so much larger than in my circumstances I might have
expected it to be. Tho' I would humbly wait for the Divine
Goodness in further additions to it still ; but beg for Grace
to improve it to the Glory of God."
" 27. I would reckon also the comfort pour'd in from my
Farm."
"31. Aug. 18, 1729. The goodness of God was mani
fested to me and to my little dauter Mary in seeing her when
she had sadly wandered away and lost in y" swamp and di
recting a young man David Maynard jr. to her Deliverance."

^6

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

In. the same volume is recorded a " special resolution."
"To Return or pay for the books I have sometime ago
borrowed and negligently and unjustly retained for some
years from ye owners ytf: at those times purposing to
buy ym, but to this Day have omitted it, by which I have
involved myself in the Guilt of Unrighteousness."
After nearly twelve years of married life, Mrs. Parkman
died, leaving five small children, Mary, the eldest, being but
eleven. Notwithstanding his sincere grief for his wife, Mr. Park-
man realized that his children needed a mother, his parish a
minister's wife, and we find him in a little more than a year
writing in his journal : —
" February 17, 1737.
" N.B. Ye Discovery of my Inclinations to Capt. Sharp
and to M". by V urgent persuasion I tarry"^ and lodg'd there
— N.B. Mrs. Susanna Sharp."
A few weeks later he again " takes notice " of Mistress
Susanna as follows : —
"March 3. I proceeded to Capt. Sharp's, by Capt.
Sharp's strong Solicitations I tarried all night. N.B. Mrs.
Susan not very willing to think of going so far into the Coun
try as Westb., &c. &c. &c."
But the loss of his first wife is freshly brought to his mind
a few days later, by his sister Lydia, who is going to West-

THE MINISTER'S FAMILY.

77

borough with him, and tells him that she shall carry with her
" some other colour'd cloth y" her black," and suggests, as
he writes : —
" March 5 our putting off our Mourning, it (by Degrees)
moved me very much and my passions flow'd almost beyond
control — till I was obliged to retire away. — Every matter
was most exceeding sorrowf to me."
Reaching the conclusion soon after, that arguments or en
treaties would have no avail with Susanna Sharp, he turns his
horse's head toward Marlborough, where he seems previously
to have had many conversations with Mistress Hannah
Breck, daughter of his old friend, the Rev. Robert. He
writes : —
" ;March 19, 1736/7. A.M. to Dr. Gott's, but a short
space with Mrs. Hannah. At my request she had (she
assured me) burnt my letters, poems &c.
" March 25. I spent the afternoon at Dr. Gott's.
Mr. Hovey there with a Bass Viol N.B. Mrs. H  -h
B  k at ye Drs. Still. Our Convers" of a piece w"' w' it
used to be. I mark her admirable Conduct her Prudence &
wisdom, her good manners and her distinguishing Respect-
fullness to me which accompany her Denyals.
" April. I. At Eve I was at Dr. Gott's, Mrs. H  h was
thought to be gone up to Mr. Week's or Capt. Williams with
Design to lodge there, but she returned to ye Docf. and she

„g THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
gave me her Company till it was very late. Her conversa
tion was -very friendly and with divers Expressions of Singu
lar and peculiar Regard. Memord". Oscul. : But she cannot
yield to being a step-mother. — I lodg'd there and with gr't
satisfaction and composure."
Unfortunately, some pages of the Journal are lost, and we
only know that, in the September following. Mistress Han
nah had become a step-mother to the five Parkman children.
She had eleven children, four of them being born in the old
parsonage, the rest in the new. She outlived Mr. Parkman,
and was honored and loved by his people. With all his
affection for her, he never forgot the wife of his early
days. Jan. 29, 1779, he writes: "This day is memora
ble for ye sorrows I was plunged into in ye year 36 (43
years since) w" ye Partner of my Joys and Divider and
Sharer of my Griefs was taken away. I remember still ye
wormwood and ye Gall — my soul is yet humbled within me.
May G. grant me true and thorow Humiliation ! "
The new parsonage, where Mr. Parkman spent the last
half of his life, is the house standing just beyond the High-
street school-house. This was built in 1748, on the place
where the late Dr. Curtis' house stands, on the corner of East
Main and High streets. It has been very much altered and
modernized since then. Mr. Parkman bought a large farm
adjoining the new church-lands on one side, and stretching

THE MINISTER'S FAMILY.

79

on both sides of the road down East Main street. He built a
small, low house for his farmer, which still stands, shaded by
lilac bushes, and overtopped by a disproportionately high
elm. It is nearly opposite the house of Rev. E. W. Clark.
• Mr. Parkman, in 1779, speaks of a man's coming to his
farm with " Lelock Trees," — perhaps the ancestors of those
still clustering around the old farm-house.
From this parsonage the little Mary of his Journal was
married to Rev. Eli Forbes. A list of the articles in her
wedding outfit is still preserved in her father's handwriting.
It is written on loose sheets of paper, pinned together
with an old hand-made pin, its round head formed of a
tight coil of the wire. It is as follows : —
"To
My Dauter Molly, Sundrys viz : —
i Doz. A-back black Chairs
i- Doz. Table back colourd Do. .
I Black arm chair & \ Doz. plain 3 back
I Feather Bed new Tick .
I Feather Bed &c pidgeon Feathers ^^
and ye Tick new home spun
2 Bedsteads and Beds and Lines.
2 pair Bed Blanketts .
I Bed Quilt, partly old — part New .
„ ... ( Without the spinning
\ Coverlid )

?D

itto meaner .

4
40,

4. 10. o
9. o. o
17- o. o

15. 12. O

15. 6. o

12.10.

o. o
o. o

8o

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

Three pair of sheets — 2 of cotton i of tow
and pillow cases .....
\ Doz large London Plates M. C.
4 Dishes .
2 Brass Skillets, old .
I Iron pot
I Iron kettle
Ironing box and heater
Gridiron ....
Frying pans
I Spit and winch
I Dripping Pan
I oval Table
I Kitchen Table
A Chest with one Drawer .
I Large Looking glass
Kneeding Trough
Washing Tubb .
2 Pails
I Beer Tunnell .
I Lignum Vitae Mortar
2 Wooden Trays
I Great Wheel .
I Foot Wheel .

. 26.

O. C

3-

4. c

6.

o. c

6.

o. c

I.

lO. 0

I.

15.0

I.

12. 0

I.

0. 0

16. 0

2.

0. 0

2.

0. 0

16. 0

5-

0. 0

I.

10. 0

I.

10. 0

20.

0. 0

I.

5.0

O.

16. 0

o.

12. 0

o.

10. 0

I.

0. 0

o.

18.

I.

10. 0

2.

0. 0

200.

9.0

THE MINISTER'S FAMILY.

8i

From Mr. Baton.
I pair chamber Tongs
I Do. Fire shovels
I Kitchen Fire Slice (?)
I pair Kitchen Tongs
I pair large Andirons
I Chaffing Dish
12 Skewers

From Cambridge. Mr. Champneys.
I Sett of Chaina Tea Dishes
& Saucers
Two Small Bowls
I Glass Cream pott
2 Wine Glasses .
2 Pint Bowls
I Quart Bowl
2 Beckers ....
I Mustard pott
I Fan ....
I Butter Boat
6 Earthen plates

old Ten'.

I.

I.

I.

0. 0

I.

16. 0

I.

7-

4. 0

2.

0. 0

O.

12. 0

14.

13. 0

Se

pt. 30

2.

S-o

6.0

0.

7.0

0.

7.0

0.

10. 0

0.

9. 0

0.

7.0

0.

4. 0

0.

15. 0

0.

4. 0

2.

0. 0

7. 14. o

82

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

From Roxbury. Mrs. Stoddard's. Sept. 30
12I yds I Garlix ® 17s . . • .;^8. 10. 0
II yds of Bed Tick © 1 8s . . . 9.18.0
I Table Cloth 3 yds (cb 28s. . . . 4- 4- 0
4 yds Red Quality I® I Sd . . . . o. 5. o
22. 17. o
At Newtown. Mrs. Comorins. Aug. i
To a silver Ribband
To I Grater. I Tin dipper
At Waltham. Mr. Goodly. Aug. i
I pair of White Calam™ Shooes . 2. 5. o
\ lawn (3) 6£  15. O

£-i- 0. Q
100. o. o

28. o. o

To Molly at ye Tinmans in Boston as appears
by Br' Saml I adt. in old Ten'
At Mr. Sergeants at Loiwster ^
for chest of Drawers & Table }
To Molly out of ye House brot over
To 2 pairs of Cotton and Linnen Sheets (worn)
To 7| yds Garlix '©14s . . . . S- S- 0
Memord. Deliv'' to my Dauter Molly P. West-
boro May 1749 on the way going to Boston . £38. 4. 0
Cash deliv'' to Dauter Molly ^
at another time (ace. to my Remembr'"' )

12. 0.0

THE MINISTER'S FAMILY.

83

At another time. N.B. It was a piece of Gold
borrowed of Esq Baker. . . . . 8. 5. O
Cash p'd for Molly to her Br'' Eben . . 4. 10. o "
This does not include any of Molly's dresses. The whole
amounts to a little more than four hundred and forty-four
pounds. One of the younger children, Anna Sophia, was born
in this new parsonage, 1755. She married Elijah Brigham,
afterwards Judge Brigham, one of Westborough's most
prominent citizens, and a well-known member of Congress.
She, as well as some of her brothers and sisters, kept a
journal, which is still in existence, and throws light on the
daily life of a minister's daughter a hundred years ago.
It begins : —
" November 1777
'• 20th. 'Tis Thanksgiving Day. I do not go to meeting.
Dr. Stiles preaches. I hear very finely indeed. Susa poorly
tarry at home with me. At evening I receive a letter from
Sister Gushing which I am very glad of as I have received
no letter from her since Brother Gushing was here. Also
Doctor Hawes come to spend the evening with us."
Dr. Hawes at this time was thirty-eight years old, in the
height of his professional and political career.
" 22''. Dr. Stiles Set out his journey to Portsmouth this

84

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

morning. Am making shirt for James Hicks — write a
letter to Sister Gushing and send by Stephen Maynard. Do
sundry things, p.m. Alter a cloke for Nabby Wood. Mas
ter Nathaniel Fosdic here on his way to Boston — 'tis warm
weather. " We wash. I do sundries in the Kitchen. Rev. Mr.
Sherman of Connecticut here and dined and Lodged here.
p.m. I sew on Jemmy's shirt. Breck is papering the old shop."
This "old shop" was the first store in Westborough, and
now is a dwelling-house, on the east side of South street,
— long, low, and luxuriantly surrounded by flowers. It is
owned by Patrick Cronican. At the time this journal was
written, it was used as a store and dwelling-house by her
brother Breck, who, a few months previously, had been
married to Susanna Brigham, the " Susa " of the journal.
She is remembered as a stately, gracious lady, who was
always kind and generous to those needing her help or
sympathy. "November 1777. 26. I do a variety of things. Father
visits Mr. Stone of Southboro' Mother at Capt. Maynard's
finds them sick with the measles p.m. I iron Crosby cleans
the Garretts Mrs. Brigham from Northborough here to see
Susa I drink Tea at the Shop.
" 27"'. Crosby leaves us for good and all goes with John
Harrington to Boston. I am Busy about many things.

THE MINISTER'S FAMILY.

85

Mother visits Mrs. Baker and Carries home a Shirt I have
been making for her and did agree with Mrs. Baker for
j2ibs_ Flax. I spin Thread. Mrs. Lamson here and spend
the evening.
"December, i. We wash. Miss Eunice Jones here to
make some cloth for James Hicks. Mrs. Brigham here.
Breck went away to Hartford in the evening. I ironed
at the shop, 'tis very cold weather.
" Dec. 5. After Breakfast Mr. Bradshaw Presented me with
a Book Containing Twenty of D''. Eliot's Sermons, for which
I am very thankful.
" Thurs. II. . . My mother informs me that in my
absence Brother Moore had been here and brought me a
Black Satten Cloke that was my Sisters, also an under Pet
ticoat and some of Sukey's knit Lace for a tucker.
This sister had lately died.
"15. I wash 'tis very cold weather p.m. Master Sam'
Brigham here drink Tea and spend the evening liere.
Brought me a letter from Mr. Elijah Brigham at Dartmouth
college, occasioned by the Death of my Sister Hannah. I
spend the Evening Knitting upon a pair, of Stocken for
myself" This Mr. Elijah Brigham was afterwards Judge Brigham,
and a few years after this was written, Miss Anna Sophia
became his wife.

36 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
" Wed. 24. I knit at the Shop. . . . p.m. Breck
returned from Boston. I drink tea at the shop with my
Brother and Sister Also Dr. Hawes there Spend the evening
at home knitting still on my own stockens.
"Dec. 31. I card Wool for Molly to spin and knit some.
Mother is knitting Gloves for Patty Miller — 'tis Extrem
cold weather — very good sleighing.
" Jan'y 20. I spin p.m. go to Singing School at evening
Mr. E. B. (Elijah Brigham) here and spend the evening he
is just come home from College.
"21. I spin. Mr. B. goes away p.m. go to school. . . .
"25. I go to meeting at evening Mr. B. here spend even
ing. " 30. I sew in the forenoon — p.m. go to school Mr.
E. B. at school came home with me and spend the evening
here "31. I go to School all day. Mr. B goes away in the
morning. I gave him my Singing Book to Pric some tunes
into it, while I was gone to School.
" Feb'y 8, 1778 I go to meeting. Set in the gallery with
the Singers. Mr. Badcock and Mr. Bradshaw here after
meeting and Sing in the Evening.
"9. Lam very poorly MoUie washed. I go in the sleigh
to School. At evening Mr. Bradshaw here to Lodge. I
rec'd a letter from Mr. Brigham.

THE MINISTER'S FAMILY.

87

"II. I spin p.m. this day Mr. IBadcock finish his school
and we settled with him. My part of School expenses is
18/10." The first mention of this singing-school was January 12,
and nearly every day since then' she has attended it a part
or the whole of the day. Mr. Badcock, the teacher, was
from Wrentham, the place where Dr. Hawes formerly
lived. " 14. We scour our pewter.
"16. . . . Mr. B. here, spent the evening, gives an
invitation to take a ride to Concord in company with Master
Holland. Mrs. Hancock of Northboro'.
" 17. Mr. B and Mr. Holland came in the morning with
the sleigh. I go with them to Northboro', add Mrs. Han
cock to the company, then go on our way to Concord, dine
at Loreing Tavern, arrive at Bro''. Samuel at Sun sett, find
that brother and sister is gone to Newbury. Mr. & Mrs.
H. goes to Bilrickca. Mr. B. visit Mr. Kellogg I visit Dr.
Minot's lady. spend p.m with Sam", with Mr. B and
evening. " 20. We sett out on our way to Northboro', Breck being
Joind to our Company. We dine at Sawing Tavern at Marl
boro' drink coffee at Briggs, arrive at Westboro' at 7 o'clock
find Miss Patty Fish here. Mr. B. goes away to Capt.
Edmund Brigham's with the sleigh, does' not spend the

gg THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
evening here. I am much fatigued. . . . 26. Susa and
I comb flax all day. 'tis very rainy dull weather.
" April 23. I am bucking yarn for Elias' shirts.
" 24. Bucking yet.
" 27. Wash p. m. go to Northboro' to get Elias' shirts wove,
to the hospital to see Winslow Brigham, Billy Spring and
several others that have the small Pox. Stop at Coll. Brig-
ham's. Mr. Brigham was my company home. Spend the
evening in company.
" 29. I spin thread to make me a pair of gloves. . . .
"May 31. I spend the forenoon mending worsted
mitts. "June 19. I help Sister Gushing get her quilt to the
frame. " June 24. Sister Cushing and I set out in a chaise for
Boston. Breck is our company 'tis a nightly eclipse of the
sun — We dine at Reeves Tavern in Sudbury — ride from
there to Cambridge, and then to Boston. Arrived at Brother-
Sam" 6 o'clock.
"June 27. We ride up to Coll. Howe of Marlboro Break
fast. Arrive home about noon."
This was probably at Col. Cyprian Howe's, who kept the
" Howe tavern " of Marlborough, on the Boston road. Later
it has been known as the Morse-Wilson place. There are
now no buildings on the place. The Sawin tavern, where she

THE MINISTER'S FAMILY.

89

Stopped a few months before, was kept by Munning Sawin,
and at that time there was a bacchanalian ballad with, says
the Marlborough historian, " the inspiring chorus —
" ' Uncle Cyp makes the flip.
And Munning makes the toddy, O ! ' "
The journal ends abruptly, the last entry being July 6,
1778. " I sew p.m. Mr. Maynard tarrys all night. I spend an
hour in company with him."
Not long after this Mr. Parkman writes in his journal : —
"April 19, 1779. Rec'^' a letter from Elijah Brigham, A.B.,
respectg Sophy."
Just a year later, one April afternoon, Colonel Brigham
came over from Northborough " upon an important errand
in behalf of his son Elijah, with regard to Sophy," and
Mr. Parkman adds, " w'' I gave my consent to."
Sept. 21, 1780, they were married. Only the day before
the wedding Mr. Parkman was surprised by Mr. Brigham's
asking him "whether it would suit me to have the marriage
of my Dauter to him to be to-morrow. I asked him where
he intended to live? He reply'd, ' Here, if I sh'd like it.' I
ans. that I was willing to do w' was in my power for him.
He acquainf^ me with his desire to wait on Squire Baker &
his Lady with his Invitaf"- to ye Wedding also y'' two eldest

QQ -THE HUNDREDTH TOWN. .
Dauters. To w'' I consented. My Dauf Cushing rode to
Capt. Maynard's to invite him and his Wife."
The next day, notwithstanding Mrs. Parkman's illness,
which prevented her being present at her daughter's mar
riage, the wedding came off.
" To God be praise and Glory ! " writes Mr. Parkman.
Three years later her brother Ebenezer thus records
Sophy's death in his journal : —
"Nov. 26, 1783, Dear Sister Brigham departed this life
in Full hopes of a glorious Resurrection to eternal Life !
Alas ! "
Occasionally Mr. Parkman indulged in some little
" frolick," as he terms his jaunts into neighboring towns.
One of these was immediately after receiving his call to
become the pastor here, and is thus described in his
journal : —
" Jany 8, 1724." (He was staying at Mr. Swift's, the min
ister, in Framingham.) " We supped very plentifully and
for a Rarity had a Pea-Hen roasted. I lodged here with Mr.
Tileston and Mr. Thom. Bar'
"Jan'y 9. In ye morning, Mr, Swift obliged me to pray
and to return thanks after Breakfast. . . . Between il
and I o'clock we sat out from Mr. Swift's for Hopkinton.
We stopped at ye Tavern (Mayn''*'.) where y'' was a great
number of Hopk. People and at Mr. Jones we stopped also.

THE MINISTER'S FAMILY. gj
Coll. How was in the company, and with great ceremony
congratulated me. We rode together on the Journey to
Hopk. and he gave me to understand that he had been at
West, to his son Agar's where he was informed how things
was carried on.
" lO. In ye Morning I was appointed to go back to Mr.
Hows upon Mr. Cushing's Horse to bring Mrs. Greaves in com
pany with Mr. Bar' and Mrs., old Mr. How and his wife. We
dined at Mr. Whood's upon roast Goose, roast Pea-hen,
Bak'd Stufi^'d Venison, Beef, Pork &c. After dinner we
smok'd a pipe. Read Gov. Shute's Memorial to the King."
He often went over to Marlborough to see his good friend,
Rev. Mr. Breck, and on one such occasion — February 21,
1727 — he writes : —
" In ye morning, Mr. Jon. How came and invited us to a
fish dinner, accordingly we all went into his house & dined
with him on Haddock. Here his brother Hezekiah of West
boro' happened very luckily, whom I improved to carry
home my fish and some necessaries."
This fish was one he had bought to carry home to his
wife, from Mr. How, who had just returned laden from
Boston. Sometimes Mr. Parkman saddled his mare, and went over
to Hopkinton to visit his old friend, Mr. Barrett, — the first
minister of the young church there. How he regarded the

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
little Church of England and its pastor, the Rev. Roger
Price, we do not know, nor what stories of Lord Frankland's
life reached his ears. But once at least his pony galloped

J'Tcxn,f^la.\|(l, y^ovLj

?e^

up the Frankland avenue, for he writes in his journal, under
the date of April 9, 1759: "I proceeded to Sir Harry
Frankland's seat, kept now by Mr. Jaques Joseph Villiers de
Rohan marie avec Mdlle. Frances de Turenne. He gave me
such slips, branches, cions & seeds as I desired & lent me
Du Moulin's book of the accomplishment of ye prophe-

THE MINISTER'S FAMILY. g^
sies or Third Book of ye Defense of ye Catholique Faith.
I borrowed it for }'e sake of a trial with my Mr. Blanc, for
it being French I presume not to read much of it."
The story of Frankland and Agnes has been told to a
large audience by the poet, the historian, and the novelist ;
to one much smaller, but not less appreciative, by the good
old colored women, who, in the happiest period of their
lives, formed part of Sir Harry's family ; and by the last of
his old servants, who loved to recount to the wondering
children on their knees the glories of feast, or hunt, or revel
in which they bore a humble part. They have long since
passed away. The children, the few who still are spared,
have numbered their fourscore years.
In the "Worcester Magazine," published in 1843, is an
article entitled "A Legend of New England," by William
Lincoln. This was one of the first accounts of Frankland's
New England life. Not many years afterwards Oliver
Wendell Holmes published his poem entitled "Agnes."
The following extract is his description of the place as
it then appeared : —
"With blackening wall and mossy roof.
With stained and warping floor,
A stately mansion stands aloof,
And bars its haughtv door.

94

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
" This lowlier portal may be tried,
That breaks the gable wall ;
And lo ! with arches opening wide.
Sir Harry Frankland's hall.
" 'Twas in the second George's day
They sought the forest-shade ;
The knotted trunks they cleared away,
The massive beams they laid.
" They piled the rock-hewn chimney tall ;
They smoothed the terraced ground ;
They reared the marble pillared wall,
That fenced the mansion round.
" Far stretched beyond the village bound
The master's broad domain ;
With page and valet, horse and hound,
He kept a goodly train.

" I tell you as my tale began
The hall is standing still ;
And you, kind listener, maid or man,
May see it, if you will.
" The box is glistening huge and green ;
Like trees the lilacs grow;
Three elms high arching still are seen.
And one lies prone below.

THE MINISTER'S FAMILY. g.
'The hangings, rough with velvet flowers.
Flap on the latticed wall ;
And o'er the mossy ridge-pole towers
The rock-hewn chimney tall.

¦' Thus Agnes won her noble name.
Her lawless lover's hand ;
The lowly maiden so became
A lady in the land."
In i860 Rev. Elias Nason published a monograph on
Frankland, which has given us the most reliable historical
account of the house.
Within a few years, E. L. Bynner has greatly increased
the interest which already centred on this colonial home
stead by his charming story of " Agnes Surriage."
Mrs. H. B. Stowe has, under the name of the Dench
House, made the Frankland House the scene of a large and
important part of " Oldtown Folks."
Sir Charles Henry Frankland — the son of the Governor
of the East India Company's factory in Bengal, and a lineal
descendant of Oliver Cromwell — was born in India, May 16,
1716. He became collector of the port of Boston in 1741.
He is best known by the romantic story of his love for
Agnes Surriage, a beautiful young servant- girl whom he first
saw at the inn in- Marblehead. She lived with him for a
time in Boston, but finding public opinion too strong for

q6 the HUNDREDTH TOWN.
them, they removed in 175 i to Hopkinton, where he bought
a farm of four hundred and eighty-two acres. This is on the
old road from Ashland to Hopkinton, and is best reached
from Westborough by driving to Ashland Centre. Mr.
Nason has described the location of the place as follows : —
"The tract lies along the southern and western slope of
a noble eminence called in the Nipmuck tongue ' Magunco,'
or the ' place of great trees,' where the celebrated John
Eliot had in earlier times an Indian church. On an
eligible and commanding site upon the south-western incli
nation of this Indian hill the baronet erected a commodious
manor-house ; reduced about one hundred and thirty acres
of his land to tillage ; planted an extensive orchard ; built a
costly barn one hundred and thirty feet in length and sur
mounted by a cupola ; a granary, which was set upon elabo
rately wrought freestone pillars ; and houses for his servants,
which were equal to those of many of the farmers in the neigh
borhood. Having a taste for horticulture, he introduced a
great variety of the choicest fruit, such as apples, pears, plums,
peaches of excellent quality, apricots and quinces from Eng
land ; and having an eye for beauty, he set out elms and
other ornamental trees upon his grounds, and embelhshed his
walks and garden with the box, the lilac, hawthorn, and the
rose ; some portion of the shrubbery still blooms as beau
tifully as when George II. sat upon the throne.

THE MINISTER'S FAMILY. gy
" The mansion was large and strongly built. It stood at
some distance from the main road, and was approached by
a noble avenue cut through the chestnut forest and by a
flower-garden tastefully arranged in front. The spacious
hall, sustained by fluted columns, was hung with tapestry
richly ornamented with dark figures, on a ground of deepest
green, according to the fashion of the times. The chim
ney-pieces were of Italian marble, and cornices of stucco-
work and other costly finishing embelhshed the parlor,
ante-rooms, and chambers.
" The grounds immediately around the house were formed
into terraces by the hands of slaves, and the waters from
the living springs above clothed them in liveliest verdure."
Here Frankland and Agnes lived for three years, enter
taining the elite of Boston, astonishing the young people
of the neighborhood by their gorgeous equipage, and
defying the opinion of the good old New England women,
who would have said, like Aunt Lois : " I never had
much opinion of Sir Harry Frankland or Lady Frankland
either. I don't think such goings-on ought to be counte
nanced in society." While in Hopkinton, they attended
Rev. Mr. Price's church, in the centre of the town.
They kept from twelve to sixteen slaves, — among them,
Jacinta, Bacchus, Hannah, the favorite Robert, — called
Daddy Bobby, — Cato, and Dinah, of whom more hereafter.

98

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

One of the special appointments of the house was a
large, well-constructed wine-cellar, and the story is well
authenticated of Sir Harry's wine-glass having a double
wall, so that he always kept sober, while his guests, with
their larger glasses, were intoxicated.
When Sir Harry left Hopkinton, Agnes went with him,.
and after her heroic rescue of him from the ruins of Lis
bon, at the time of the earthquake, she was married to him.
In 1763 they returned to Hopkinton, and spent about a
year on their farm. This was his last visit there. Five
years later he died. After his death. Lady Frankland made
her home there, with her sister and her sister's children,
until 1775, when, alarmed at the movements of the people,
she asked permission to go to Boston. This was granted
her by the Committee of Safety, and also liberty to take
with her " six trunks, one chest, three beds and bedding for
the same, six sheep, two pigs, one small keg of pickled
tongues, some hay, three bags of corn, and such other goods
as she should think proper to carry thither." She was
arrested on the way, notwithstanding this permit, and held
until released by an order of the Provincial Court, who
furnished her with an escort and allowed her to take " seven
trunks, all her beds and bedding, all her boxes and crates,
a basket of chickens, two barrels and a hamper, two horses
and chaises, a phaeton, some ham and veal, and sundry

THE MINISTER'S FAMILY. qq
small bundles." The " arms and ammunition " which had
been put in one of the chaises were detained by the com
mittee. Soon after reaching Boston, she went to England,
where she died, about a year after her marriage to Mr. John
Drew, a banker. She was buried in the tomb of the Drew
family, with this epitaph : —

DAME AGNES FRANKLAND
RELICT OF
SIR CHARLES HENRY FRANKLAND, BART,
AND LATE WIFE OF
JOHN DREW
DIED APRIL 23, 1783
AGED 55 YEARS.

" 'Virtue, not rolling Suns, the mind matures.
That life is long which answers life's great end,
The time that bears no fruit, deserves no name ;
The man of wisdom is the man of years."
The Hopkinton farm passed out of the hands of the Sur
riage family in 1703, when it was sold for nine hundred
and fifty dollars to Dr. Timothy Shepard. In 1857 it
was purchased bv Rev. Elias Nason. The commodious

jQQ THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
barn had already disappeared, being blown down in the
famous hurricane of 1815. Soon after Mr. Nason pur
chased the house it was entirely destroyed by fire. He
immediately rebuilt it on the old foundations as nearly as
possible like the original. Now the only things left as
they were in the days of Agnes are the stone walls, the
terraces, the wrought sandstone of the granary, the box
and Persian lilacs, the snowball, buckthorn, pear and apple
trees, and three of the seven elms which were on the west
side of the avenue.
The last years of Mr. Parkman's life were overclouded.
He had preached to the same congregation for nearly sixty
years, not only twice a day on the Sabbath, and once on
lecture days, but very often at his parishioners' houses, at
their own request. No wonder he writes, after a morning
spent in his study in 1778: "Am engaged in Sermonizing
somewhat; but, oh, my Leanness!"
There were those among his flock ready to criticise and
find fault. December, 1778, he preaches a private sermon
at Mr. Levi Warren's, and adds to his account of it: " N. B.
Mr. Daniel Hardy was at Mr. Warrin's before y" exercises
began, and manifested his Disgust at my Sermon on y" late
Thanksg's. He found fault at my saying so much about sing
ing ye praises of G. I replied that it was ye very Business

THE MINISTER'S FAMILY. jqi
of ye Day — the present Truth — y' if he was dissatisfied
w'" it he had need ask himself whether it was not y' he him
self was out of tune."
His financial matters were in an unfortunate condition ;
the town even complained of the size of his family, some
thinking eighteen too many for them to support. He finds
it hard to get hired help. His wife with her own hands kills
the geese and fowls for market; " for it appears necessary
to make some money of w' we raise, that we may be able to
purchase what is wanting in other respects." She helped,
as well as her daughters, in other ways. In 1799 he writes:
" N.B. Thad. Warrin & Step. Maynard cutt up part of ye
wood-pile to-day to pay Mrs. Parkman for knitting for ye
latter of y'". Y^' dind. Y^ workd till evening."
At the same time he is sending his son Elias to Harvard
College, and his heart is bound up in this son's success.
Many little household economies are practised that Elias
may have money for his quarter's bills and good homespun
clothing made by the farmer's wives around. One time he,
speaking of his return to Cambridge, November 7, 1778,
adds: " I gave him 14 Doll'''. my newest shoes — a variety
of Cloathing — half a large Cheese, &c. &c. May God in
cline his Heart to Religion and Learning." And in 1780:
"N.B. Breck to Boston: gave him 126 Dollars towards an
Hatt for Elias."

I02 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
Mr. Parkman's own health, never very strong, gradually
gave way more and more. In 1779 he writes : " For several
days, I have drooped, and have but low appetite, esp. at din
ing. I am become thinner, but Ps. 73. 26."
There is something pathetic in the picture he leaves of his
last years, yet not sad ; for the message he had for so many
years brought to others had sunk deep into his own heart.
He had no fears, except of his own worthiness. Death
to him was a welcome opening into the life beyond.

THE TOWN PHYSICIAN. jQq

CHAPTER V.
THE TOWN PHYSICIAN.

N the early days of the settlement of the town
the physician's place was never first. In sick
ness and health the minister was most important.
There were very many in those days who did not " believe
in doctors," and preferred to let nature, unassisted, establish
a cure; or, if that were impossible, with the prayers of the
pastor and of the deacons, accept the sentence imposed
upon them. Mr. Parkman writes of his own severe illness
in 1729, " I was under the care of Rev. Mr. Barret and
Dr. Robie.'' Two years before this he had made a record
•of one of his pastoral calls as follows: "Jan'y 17, 1727,
Mr. Holloway sent his Lad for me for his child. I rode
over and found it but alive, I prayed for it and ye child
chang'd and expired while I continued to Instruct, Exhort
and Suggest." A little later the officers of the church
divided the town into districts, and chose their most faith
ful religious men to visit the sick and to pray with them.
In 1726 Mr. Parkman sent for Dr. Matthews for little

jQ. THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
Mary, showing that at that early date, at least one
physician was in practice here ; and Dr. Ball, the famous
old Northborough doctor, thirty years afterwards numbered
many Westborough people among his patients and friends.
The doctor was more one of them than the minister.
He was not necessarily a very learned man; his library
was small, if indeed he had any. He was obliged to
eke out his slender fees in many ways, — by farming, trading,
or any good honest work which best suited his taste.
If, on the other hand, the practice of medicine was
simply a means of eking out a small income, the prac
titioner having no knowledge or conscience in his pro
fession, the punishment was speedy and severe. In the
General Court Records for 1630/ 1 we find the following
account of justice done to one of these quacks : " Nicholas
Knopp is fyned ;^V for takeing upon him to cure the
scurvey by a water of noe worth nor value which he solde
att a very deare rate, to be imprisoned till hee pay his
ffine or give securitye for it or els to be whipped and shall
be lyable to any man's accon of whom hee hath receaved
money for s" water." (Gen. Ct. Rec, Vol. I., p. 82.)
When a new settlement was formed, it was customary 1
to set aside a tract of land for the use and allurement of
the minister, the miller, the blacksmith, and the school
master ; but rarely, if ever, was any such inducement held
out to the physician.

THE TOWN PHYSICIAN. igr
In case of illness, the neighbors were first summoned,
and the stores of medicinal dried herbs, tied in bunches
and put away against the time of need, were brought
out. When these failed to give relief the doctor was called.
He galloped up to the door, with his medicines in his
saddle-bags, and his stock of surgical instruments either
in the same convenient receptacle, or in his small black
pocket-case. .There was one he never went without, and
rarely failed to use, — this was the lancet; and he usually
noted down in his memorandum-book, " Visit and venesec
tion, " sometimes expressing the same idea more pleasantly
by the phrase "Visit and attendance."
It was not until 1764 that a young physician came
here to settle, who was destined to have a large influence
in town. In a few carefully written note-books he has
left us a slight history of his own professional and legal
life, and of the art of medicine as practised in this town
a hundred years ago.
He bought a tract of land on what is now East Main
street, with the buildings thereon. It contained ten acres, and
he paid eighty pounds lawful money for it. It was bounded
«on the north by the land of Captain Samuel Forbush and
by common land, on the west by a beaver dam, south
by a ditch, and other ways by highways. His house is
still standing, on the corner of East Main and Lyman

io6

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

streets, with no important alterations except those he made
himself It was a wooden building, painted red ; since then
it has received a coat of plaster. It had been occupied
by the famous Tom Cook, of whom more hereafter, and
bore, and still bears, on the parlor floor, the marks of
Tom's axe. As first purchased by Dr. Hawes, it con-

sisted of four rooms below, and good chambers on the
second floor. There was the parlor, a small square
chamber opening out of it (now the front hall) ; on the
other side of the parlor was the hall, opening into the
kitchen and the doctor's office, part of the latter forming
a projection on the west side of the house. This room
now is smaller than in his day, and is used, as a passage
way to the wood-house beyond.

THE TOWN PHYSICIAN. iqj
In this room was the tall chest of narrow drawers,
each one marked like those of a modern drug-store, the
narrow-seated, stiff office-chair, the small scales for weigh
ing out medicine, the iron mortar and pestle for their
proper preparation, the few medical books, including the
one he had laboriously copied out himself from a rare
printed copy, and possibly his records as Justice of the
Peace. He was born in 1739, being, therefore, twenty-five when
he left his practice already established in Wrentham and
settled here.
Dr. Hawes is described by a gentleman over ninety
as being rather tall, plain-looking, with his hair standing
up straight from his forehead. He was the most promi
nent citizen of Westborough during many years. As a
farmer, physician, and lawyer, he led a busy life. As
Justice of the Peace, all the small law matters came before
him. He was no less active in politics ; for many years
was Town Clerk; during the Revolution was an active
home-worker, holding, unflinchingly, the very unpopular
position of constable for both districts, doing in that line
alone the work of two men. After the men returned from
the war, it is said they were' drawn up in line on the com
mon, and Dr. Hawes shook 'hands with each one.
For many years he was deacon of the Congregational

jQg THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
church. He was one of the original founders of the Baptist
church, which for some time met in his son's parlor, in the
farther end of his house. He gave them land in his garden,
on the corner of East Main and Lyman streets, for the erec
tion of a church building. Here the first Baptist church
was built, and the old stone step still marks the site.
He lived here nearly fifty years, all the time ^in the same
house. He 4ied, with his " honors thick upon him,'' in 1821.
One of his memorandum-books is bound in parchment,
with a brass clasp. Although his commercial and legal pur
suits were so closely connected with his medical life that
it was not possible to entirely separate the accounts, yet this
small volume is almost wholly devoted to his professional
visits, the medicines he furnished, and the charges for both.
One of the earliest is in 1773, where there is a long bill
made out to Benjamin Tanter. Among other items are
these : — -
" To Rum, Sugar, Brandy, Tee, molasses and Sundary
medicines and attendance ^5. 14 3
April & May 1777. To medicine & attend
ance in small-pox, . . . ;^3. o. o
July 28. To Samp, Beens, Rice, Basket, Mo
lasses & Rasons . . . . o. 4. 6 "
On the opposite page is " Counter," as follows : —

THE TOWN PHYSICIAN.

109

"March 1772. Received 8 vials . . . o. I. 2
Received 20 w. of cheese . . o. 12. 3
April 1774. By 6 barrels of Cyder . . o. 16. o
" Tee and veal . o. 3, 9
June 1773. " carting 13 gallons of wine o. i. o
March 1776. " " wine to Hartford o. 8. 2
June 1777. " house rent for inoculating,
&c  .8. 14. o"
Following the custom of the time, he seems to have kept
a stock of groceries and other commodities, which he dis
pensed to his patients at the regular rates. Many of his
bills read something like the one made out to Mr. Isaac
Ruggles in 1795. This is: —
"January. To 49 lb. of beef at 12J lb. o. 14. 3^
1795. To cloves § ij. Delivered to Sanford o. 2. 4
May. To a calico bag .... o. 2. o
Oct. 27. To Elix. Proprit. § i . . . o. o. 7
1796 Nov. To 12 bushels of Potatoes . . o. j8. o
June 1799. " extracting a Dentis . o. o. 9
January 1800 " visit and medicine . . O. 2. 3
1801 " Harvey's indenture . . o. 2. 5

Sept. 25 Mr. Ruggles account . 2. 2. 7"
His usual price for "extracting a Dentis" (the word he

IIQ THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
always used for tooth) was sixpence. After 1 800, when
most of his accounts are kept in dollars and cents, it was
twelve and one-half cents.
He opened his house freely to strangers in town, gave
them probably as good accommodation as they would have
had at the tavern, and charged something as follows : —
"To John Wesson of Brookfield Dr.,
March 12, 1793. To 2 glasses of brandy
" a supper
13. "a Loging
" a glass of Brandy . 3- li"
His bills were often paid by barter, — by butter, hay,
" taller," cider, spinning, etc. Among the things furnished
his patients we find many like the following : —
"Oct. 4. 1776. To 2 quarts of Rum. 0.1.2. Sept. 1773
To 2 Gall"' of Rum. 0.4.2. Nov. 19. 1789. To a razor o.i.o.
March 1779 To 2 barrels. 0.4.0. Oct 21. 1778 To puden
pan 0.0.8. April 1777. To a half pint bottle 0.0.6. 1783.
To an old pair of saddle-bags 0.1.6. A pigg. 6s. 1777. a
cord of wood — 0.6.0. Andirons. 6s. i doz. buttons lod.
1787. To Jacket & Briches 0.4.6."
He often let his horse, and from his account-book, and

. 0.

0.

9

. 0.

I.

2

. 0.

0.

6

0.

4*

THE TOWN PHYSICIAN. m
one belonging to his son, James Hawes, Jr., we get the ordi
nary rates of horse-hire in those days.
"Dec. lO. 1766 (from an old account of Elijah
Warren's) for my hors to ride three miles . 3 d. i qr.
Oct. 10. 1791. To my Shays to Boston 30 miles 6 s
1792. To my horse to Sutton 12 " 0.2.0
June 10. 1809. To my horse to Hopkinton &
Worcester . . . . . . .71 cts.
June 10. 1809. To my horse to Hopkinton 6
miles ... ....
1810. June 12. " " " to Worcester 11
miles ... ...
1812. To my horse to Grafton 6 miles .38
" Feb'y 7. " " sley " Holliston 1 1 miles .25
In 1 810. Mr. Asaph Warren charged for his horse
to Boston . $1.17
to Hopkinton . .50
' Hors wagon to Lynn' . 1.35
Horse & sleigh to Henniker N.H. . 4.70 "
Dr. Hawes sold to his patients all the drugs of which they
had need, and paid a fair price for the bottles and vials
which were returned to him.
The last part of his life the son of old Dr. Stephen Ball, of
Northborough, had commenced practice, and opened the

¦17
•SO

JJ2 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
drug-store which supplied not only the town, but many
physicians in neighboring towns. Dr. Hawes among the
number. The house in which he lived, now occupied by his
daughters, is on Main street, in Northborough, near the cor
ner of School street. In the parlor is a fine oil-painting of
the old physician, with his round, full face, genial smile, and
ruffled shirt-front.
Every one that remembers Dr. Ball can still see him
jolting around in his yellow-topped gig, drawn by the
" Parmenter mare," with her head, back, and tail all in a
line, the star on her forehead bobbing slowly up and down,
and her short tail and hind leg making spasmodic attempts
to brush off the flies. The doctor sat in the gig, a short,
stout man, with a very short neck, wearing in winter a fur
hat, much larger at the top than at the bottom, including
even the inch-wide brim, and in summer a plain straw,
painted drab. Even in those late days, when the canvas-
covered gig had superseded the saddle, he still carried his
medicines in his saddle-bags, and it was a common remark
that any one passing Dr. Ball in the dark could recognize
him by the odor of drugs exhaled from the old gig.
He was a quiet man, never very merry, sorrowful, or
angry, with a gentle, " softly " way with his patients. What
ever the trouble, his programme on visiting the sick was
usually the same: first he bled the arm, then gave a

THE TOWN PHYSICIAN H3
severe emetic, followed by doses of calomel and jalap. One
of his favorite prescriptions for easing pain he called " fly
away " pills, and gave them with the gentle joke, " But I
guess }'ou won't fly away to-night." His family own a book
in which he wrote down prescriptions which were recom
mended to him by other physicians. He calls this his
" Resipee Book." Among others is a " Receipt to the
Scratches. R. one qrt fishworms washed clean, one pound
hog's lard stewed together, filtred through a strainer & add
half pint oil turpentine, half pint good brandy simmer it well
& is fit for use."
It was said whenever Dr. Ball called on a patient, he
drew a chair up to the table, which in a few minutes was
covered with cups and tumblers, dried herbs and powders,
and bits of paper with carefully written directions for steep
ing and properly preparing the various drugs. We can
appreciate this better, if we turn over the leaves of this old
book and read one of his famous recipes. It is called —
" UNGUENT UM POLYCHRES.
" R Green Tobacco, Henbane, chamomile. Cheese Mal
lows, Bitter sweet Root, Melilot, Yallow Pond Lily Root,
Night Shade, Hearts-ease, Dock leaves, Plantin Leaves,
Saint John's Wort Mouse Ear Garlicke Comfrey Leaves
Buds of Walnut Old David's Weed Garden Scurvey Grass

JJ4 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
Burdock ; Elder Heat all Catnip. Carpenter Weed Marsh
Mallows both sorts, Chelindine Fenney wort yarrow low
balm Gout Root Leaves.
" Fresh butter hogs lard aiia equal quantities pipermint."
One day one of his patients said to him, " What is the
need of so many different things, doctor? "
" Well," said the doctor, in his mild way, " if you are going
to shoot a bird, you use plenty of shot. Some of these
things will be pretty sure to hit the case."
" Tell the old doctor," said a young physician just moved
into town, " that now-a-days we don't use shot-guns. We
use rifles."
His directions to his patients were usually given in about
the same formula, and have a suggestion of constant use of
the gun, as well as plenty of shot. He would say: "Take
a little of this ere and a little of that air, put it in a jug be
fore the fire, stir it up with your little finger, and take it
when you are warm, hot, cold, or feverish."
Dr. Ball left among his papers an article on the power
of ,the imagination, which is here given, copied from his
manuscript. The house at which he dined was then occu
pied by Mr. Amasa Maynard, a gentleman much given to
practical jokes. The house is in Westborough, standing
then on Fisher street, nearly opposite the creamery. It was
called the " Oak house," because it was built entirely of oak.

THE TOWN PHYSICIAN. jjj
It has since been moved, and is now the second house beyond
No. 7 school-house. " IMA GINA TION.
" In an earhy part of my Practice I was called into a neigh
boring Town to Visit a Patient. It being about the middle
of the day, the old gentleman of the house invited me to
stop and dine with him. While at dinner, he sayes, ' I don't
know as you like my dinner.' Why yes said I, I doe like it
very well. I guess said he you don't know what you are
eating. Why yes said I, I doe, it is some new corned beefe.
Ah said the old gentleman (he being over 60 yrs. old) it is
horse beefe. I replied I don't believe it. It is said he. I
declare it is some of my old Mare. I was not much ac
quainted with him at that time. I looked at him supposing
him to be a joking, but could not discover a mustle of his
face to change or alter. I had just taken another piece on
my plate and a mouthful of the second slice in my mouth,
and in fact it was horse meat sure enough. I could taste it
as plain as my olfactory nerves would discover the sent of an
old horse. The more I chewed it, the more disagreeable it
tasted. I continued taking a little sauce in my mouth. I
could swallow, but the meat as the negro said was no go.
I at last gave a swallow as I doe with a dose of Physick.
I thought I should have thrown the whole contents of my

jjg THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
Stomach up at the table. I afterwards tasted a little sauce,
but took care not to put any more meat in my mouth, and
kept time with the family, and glad was I when dinner was
over. It being cold weather the old gentleman turned to the
fire and went to smoking and telling stories. At last the
gentleman said, ' I tell you what it is, I wont leave you in
the dark about your dinner. I told you we had horse-meat
for dinner, and so it was for I swapped her away for a steere,
and that was some of the beefe.' I have ever since been
glad the incident occurred, for I never should have known
how far imagination would carry me, had it not been for the
Joke the old Gentleman put upon me.
" Not long after this I attended a Patient a yong man about
1 8 or 19 years old, in another town, sick with the scarlet-fever
and throat distemper (Scarlatina Anginosa). I revisited
him on Sunday morning. I told him he was better, his dis
order had turned, he was doing well. I saw nothing butt
that he might recover soon. I had business further along,
and on my return, about sunset, I called again and be
held the family and neighbors ware standing around in a
large room, seeing the patient die. I spoke to his mother,
and asked her what was the matter. O said she Joel is
worse. I then turned to my Pupil and sayes what can this
mean. He said I dont know. I am shure he sayes he was
doing well when we ware here in the morning. I th^n

THE TOWN PHYSICIAN. jj^
turned again to his mother and asked her what had taken
place. O, she said, Joel has been growing worse ever since
you left in the morning, she said the Mini.ster called soon
after I left, and he said he might live till night, but could not
probably live till tomorrow morning, and she thought it her
duty to let her son know the near approach of death. I
went to the bed-side and I veriyly thought him to be a dicing.
he had a deathly pult (subsutus tendinum) spasmodick affec
tion of the face and jaws, indeede the whole system was gen
erally convulsed. I thought of the horse-beefe. I sayes to
him Joel, I guess I can give you something that will help
you. I perceived he had his senses, but I beleave he could
not speak. I immediately prepared him a cordial, and with
much difficulty he swallowed a verry little. I walked the
room. I saw his eye followed me. I went to him again, got
a little more medicine down, felt his pulse, told him he was
doing a little better, his medicine was doing him good. I
told him I- guessed he would doe by and by I left him again,
but took care he did not catch my eye again. I paid atten
tion to him in this way for some hours, untill he was really
better, the next morning he was much better.
" He has told me since I can't tell how many times, he'
certainly should have died that night, if I had not called as
I did. He is now living in the state of New York, and is
nearly 70 years old."

Il8 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
This would fix the date of both incidents not far from
1792. "A report got out that I said I would as lief see the
d  1 about my Patients as a Minister, which was entirely
untrue. I never said so. I always like to have the clergy
visit my Patients, although I have heard them ask some
questions I was sorry to hear.
" I have been in the practice of Physick in my native town
about 50 years. I stood alone nearly 40 years, except in
some instances, others have come in and stoped a few months
and then were off. I am now in active practice in the county
of Worcester, Massachusetts, 74.
"February, 1842."
Among the many directions left by the physician, there
was none more general or imperative than that in cases of
fever no cold water should be allowed.
There was a man, Joseph Carruth, in Northborough,
living as hired man on the place now owned by S. I. Rice.
He was very ill with typhoid fever. The doctor, doubtless
Dr. Ball or his father, forbade the friends yielding to his
desire for a drink from a certain spring on the farm. He
did, after a while, compromise a little by allowing him a
few swallows, previously warmed by dropping a red-hot
coal in the cup ; but the man wanted it cold.
He grew worse, and, when at last all hope of his recovery

THE TOWN PHYSICIAN.

119

was gone, his friends decided to make his last hours as
happy and comfortable as possible, and, taking a pitcher,
one of them went to the spring.
They gathered around the bedside, to see him die, and
put the pitcher to his lips. He drained it to the bottom.
The next day, when the doctor called, he found his
patient on the road to recovery.
Since that day, the spring has been called for him, "Jo
spring." This spring is in a meadow beyond Mr. Rice's house ;
it empties into a natural stone basin, and for a hundred and
forty-five years has not been known to be dry.

I20

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

CHAPTER VI.

LEGAL PRACTICES.

B

'1

N 1782 Mr. Parkman felt that he was living in.
" very degenerate times." There was to his
mind an " evident Increase of Vice and Wicked
ness " and " a sorrowful Decay of Religion." The fear of
the Indians, which a couple of generations before had knit
the people together, and awakened interest in and sympathy
for each other, had given place to a feeling of safety and
security. They became less dependent on each other, more
prone to quarrels, assaults, suicide, and even to murder.
The lawyer's hands were full with petty, criminal cases,
adjustments of property bounds, and agreements of one
sort and another between individuals, especially between
parents and children.
People at a comparatively early age became old. Their
days of active work were less in number than ours are now,
though perhaps they accomplished more in the shorter
time. The son, when his parents were fifty or a little over,
took the farm and house, and gave a bond to support the

LEGAL PRACTICES. 12 i
"old people," whose place henceforth was on the other side
of the large chimney.
Church members were by no means exempt from the
almost universal sins of the times. They received their
sentence at court, like others, and then were brought before
the church, the matter was thoroughly investigated anew, a
confession was demanded, and when given, the offending
member was restored to the " charity " which each one felt
it might be his turn next to request.
There were many cases of swearing, and this often
among the most respected citizens. Such records as these,
made in 1783 and 1784, are common: — £. s. d.
"A fine paid by Benj. Warren for uttering
Two profane Oaths . . . " . . o. 5. o"
" A fine paid by Joseph Rice, Jr. of North
borough for uttering three profane oaths and
Two profane Curses . . . . . o. 8. o"
"A fine paid by William Nus in Westborough
for uttering two Profane Curses . . . o. 6. o "
One profane oath was usually fined four shillings.
" Breach of the Sabbath " was another fault beginning
to creep in, and threatening to do away with the Christian
Sabbath of their grandparents. When one of the wealthy

J 22 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
young men " did unnecessarily ride a boute the Town of
Westborough" on the Sabbath day, "at the time that the
people ware assembling to the meeting-house," he was
promptly brought before the justice, and, after receiving
due admonition for the evil example he had set others
"by producing disepation of manners and Immoralities of
Life," he was sentenced to pay ten shillings, " in behalf of
the Commonwealth and for the use of the Commonwealth."
" Steeling," assaults, " sculing [skulking] about the town,"
defamation of character, were every-day matters in even this
small community, composed almost entirely of people of
English descent. Greater crimes were not infrequent, but
were carried up to a court higher than the one held here.
A few cases, illustrating the modes of punishment in
flicted a hundred years ago, may prove not uninstructive.
These are selected from the note-book kept by the
" worshipful James Hawes," Justice of the Peace, as well
as deacon and physician.
He usually held court at his " dwelling-house in West
borough," occasionall)^ at the house of Benjamin Wood,
innholder, sometimes at that of Abijah Gale, innholder.
Abijah Gale's house is still standing on the left-hand side
of the Southborough road. It is occupied by Dennis
Fitzpatrick. The large L has, since the days of the Revo
lution, been burned ; but the main part of the house is

LEGAL PRACTICES. 1 23
Still as it was when crowded with eager farmers, their
wives and children, to see Burgoyne and his army march
by. In November, 1785, William Wood, of Westborough,
had Bertholomy English and Polly English arrested " for
feloniously takeing. Steeling, and carrying of from the s''
Wilhams, a cotton Lining Sheet, a apron, cap and Han-
kerchief" The evidence against them was conclusive, and
Bertholomy was sentenced " to pay a fine of ten shilhngs
and the said polly to pay a fine of five shillings or be
whiped on the naked back five stripes and polly three
stripes.'' They said they had nothing to pay the fine
with, and " consented to be whiped and accordingly received
said stripes by the officer.''
The parties at law were always called by their first
names, as " the s'' Breck and Elijah," when speaking of
Westborough's well-known store-keepers.
It was not at all unusual for a man, after committing
some offence against the laws of the Commonwealth, to
hurry off to the nearest justice, and explain his case. Nor
was it considered illegal to impose sentence upon him, en
tirely upon his own confession. Sometimes, before the trial
was concluded, the plaintiff appeared, as in the following
assault case : —
."Be it remembered that Joseph Forbes of Westborough

J 24 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
in the county of Worcester, yeoman. Personally appeared
before me the Subscriber and acknowledged himself guilty
of an assault and Battery on the body of Barnum Blake of
the same Westborough on the 25'" day of September 1805,
and did beat the s" Blake with a whip-lash fore or six
strokes on his back on the 25'" day of September A.D.
1805 in his shop in s''. Westborough, and as said Blake
came at him the s'' Forbes he then took said Blake and
held him down and gave him five or six blows with his
hand on his bottom or hip — and before I had time to
proceed any further the said Major Blake came in and
brought a witness with him who see the whole of the s"*-
assault and Battery, who was sworn to testifie the whole
truth and nothing but the truth — and after duly attending
to the evidence and there allegations I give it as my judg
ment that the offense is so great that the fine ought to be
more than a single Justice ought to decide upon and that
the said Forbes be bound over to the next Court of Com
mon Pleas in the county of Worcester on the sum of fifty
dollars with two sureties in the sum of twenty-five dollars
each, and in the meantime to be of good behavior towards
all the citizens of this Commonwealth and more especially
towards sd Blake." Barnum Blake occupied N. M. Knowl-
ton's farm, having built the house now standing. Joseph
Forbes lived in the same neighborhood.

LEGAL PRACTICES. ,25
The old Indian, Gigger, in 1812, was brought up for as
saulting James Dunton. It might have gone hard with the
said James, had not his wife come to the rescue. One of
the witnesses testified that she saw Dunton and Gigger "a
rooling about in the Snow like a Cooppel of Boolfrogs."
Gigger was fined two dollars.
One of the most interesting and well-known differences
in the way a man left his property is the provision made
for the widow. The will of Ebenezer Maynard, dated in
1798, is very much like those usually made by a husband
a hundred years ago.
The following is an extract from the will : —
" To my well-beloved wife Sarah Maynard, Two Guineas
and all the Household Goods and Effects which she brought
with her, and one half of all the Lineng that may be in the
House at my Decease and one cow to be at her disposal for
ever. " Item. I give and bequeath to my said wife the west
part of my now dwelling-house and half the Seller and
chamber and also the privilege of passing and repassing to
the Barn well and orchard for to get apples and all Sorts of
Green Sauce as She may need for her use as long as she
shall remain my widdow — also a horse for her to ride as she
may have occasion during sd term.
" I give and bequeath to my said wife annually eight

J 26 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
bushels of Indian corn or meal. Two bushels of Rye Meal
One hundred weight of pork, fifty w' of Beef One Barrel of
cyder, half a bushel of malt and one bushel of Turnips and
one of  ( ?) Two pair of Shoes and the keeping of one
cow both summer and winter, also a sufficient quantity of
firewood for one fire, also Ten pounds of Flax and four
pounds of wool So long as she remains my widdow, and the
said articles are all to be delivered to her at my said Dwell
ing House by my executor and he is to give her a Decent
Christian burial if she dies my widdow."
Many of the farmers had " bound boys," whom they took
as little children, supported, clothed, and taught their
" mystery " until the boys became of age. The Justice of
Peace drew up an indenture which the farmer and baby
(through the selectmen) pledged themselves to fulfil. One
such, written by James Hawes, is here given : —
" THIS INDENTURE WITNESSETH
"That Stephen Maynard, Aaron Warren, Seth Morse and
Joseph Harrington of Westborough, In the County of Wor
cester Gentlemen Selectmen of sd Westborough hath put a
poor child, belonging to sd town of Westboro and of their
own free will & accord, and with the consent of two Justices
of the Peace who have subscribed hereunto Doth by these
Presents Voluntarily put & bind Artimus Pratt to be an

LEGAL PRACTICES. I 27
Apprentice unto Joseph carryl of Hubbardston & county
aforesaid Husbandman and Elizabeth his wife & their to
learn his art Trade or Mystery and with him the said Joseph
carryl & Elizabeth his wife and their Heirs after the manner
of an apprentice to Dwell and Serve from the Day of the
Date hereof: for and During the full and Just Term of
Eighteen years. Eight months & Twelve Day Next ensuing
& fully to be compleat & ended. During all which Said
Term, the said apprentice his said Master & Mistress Hon
estly & faithfully shall Serve, their Secrets keep close, their
LawfuU and Reasonable commands everywhear gladly do
& perform, he shall do no Damage to his sd Master or Mis
tress nor any hurt to their good willfully nor wast embezel
nor purlone or lend them unto others nor suffer the Same to
be wasted or purloned or lent: but to the uttomost of his
powers Shall forthwith discover & make the sd known
unto his sd Master or Mistress. Taverns or ale-houses he
shall not frequent at cards dice or any other unlawfull games
he shall not play. Fornication he shall not commit, nor
Matrimony contract with any person during sd Term, from
his Master or Mistresses Service he shall not be at any time
unlawfully absent himself: but in all Things as a good, hon
est and faithful Servant & apprentice Shall bear and behave
himself Towards his sd Master & Mistress and their Heirs
during the full Term of Eighteen Years, Eight months &

128 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
Twelve Days commencing as aforesaid, and the sd Joseph
carryl for himself and Elizabeth his wife & their Heirs : do
covenant promis grant & agree with them the abovesaid
Selectmen of Westborough & with him the sd apprentice
in manner & form following that is to say : That he will teach
the apprentice or cause him to be taught, by the best ways
or means that he may or can the Trade Art Mystery of Hus
bandman and to Read Write and cypher to the rule of Three
if the said apprentice be capable to learn : and will find and
provide for him the said apprentice Good and sufficient
Meat, drink Lodging washing & Apparrel boath in Sickness
& in health : fitted for an apprentice during sd Term and at
the end of sd Term to dismiss sd apprentice with Two good
suits of Apparrel both woolen and linning for all parts of his
body one for Lord's Day & the other for working Days.
also one good great coat. In Witness whereof the sd Parties
to these Present Indentures have Interchangeably Set their
hands & Seals this Seventeenth Day of December One
Thousand Seven Hundred & Eighty Two and in the Seventh
Year of the Independence of America.
" Signed Sealed &
Delivered in
presence of"
Perhaps some of the young men of the town who had
more than once paid their fine to Justice Hawes, for some

LEGAL PRACTICES. ' ,29
slight offence, felt a good deal of satisfaction, when, in 1785,
His Honor was brought up before the church, to explain
some matters of his own. The selectmen of the town had a
power of attorney to settle the business affairs of Adonijah
Rice. Dr. Hawes, his former attorney, paid a note for him.
The selectmen, calling upon him, asked him if he had " paid
the full amount seen on his account." He answered, " ever}-
copper." — "What, no abatement?" — "Not one farthing,"
answered the doctor. But Dr. Daniel Brigham, to whom the
bill was paid, claimed to have received only thirty shillings,
where fifty shillings, ten pence were due. The church had
several meetings discussing the question of Deacon Hawes'
veracity, but none of his explanations or apologies seemed
to satisfy them. They finally appointed a committee of three
"to make some proposal to D. Hawes what he ought to con
fess in order for the chh's satysfaction."
After half an hour's adjournment, they heard Dr. Hawes'
acknowledgment as follows : —
" To the Chh. of Christ in Westborough,
" Belo\'ed Brethren, — Knowing there is uneasiness among the
brethren Concerning my conduct while transacting business in behalf of
Adonijah Rice with the Selectmen in which I have been supposed by
many to have Transgressed the Truth. — I acknowledge myself out of
ye way in Answering the Selectmen, when asked by them whether I had
paid the full face of a note ag' said Rice's estate in favor of Doct. Daniel

I30 '^I^I^ HUNDREDTH TOWN.
Brigham, to which I hastily replied in the affirmative, whereas ye circum
stances demanded a Negative on account of which affirmative I gave ye
Selectmen just reason to suspect my "Veracity, have exposed myself to
your Christian Resentment, am sorry therefore and now ask your forgive
ness and charity.
"James Hawes.
" which is put on file.''

Looking over a pile of old writs, we' catch a glimpse of
another side of the versatile doctor's character, by finding
written on the back of one of them these lines : —
" To Miss Caty Hill
This wish I do Avill.
''As you have long tarried
I wish you well-married.
A husband I Avish you,
To love and to kiss you.
And you must forever.
Love him and be clever."
Miss Caty Hill " tarried " until she was thirty-one, a(
which age, in 1798, she became the wife of a widower, Mr.
Abner Warren. She had five children, — Mrs. Austin Har-
. rington being one of them. She was a niece of Dr. Hawes'
wife, and before her marriage made her home with them.
She was a great favorite with the doctor, and her children

LEGAL PRACTICES. 131
remember his walking up to their house — where Mrs. Har
rington now lives — after his hair was silvery white, and his
step feeble, to see " Caty," and sitting by the hour together,
reading to them the interesting books which had come in
his way, — among others " The Dairymaid's Daughter " and
" Parley, the Porter."

132

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

CHAPTER VII.

PHANTOMS AND REALITIES.

|IFE was less realistic a century ago. Real fears
and dangers had given place to many imaginary
ones. Men, as well as w*omen, sought for signs to .
guide them in their work, and found them in every freak of
nature or unusual accident.
The young girls were most interested in signs of marriage,
seeking to have their fortunes told by hand or tea-cup, hang
ing the wish-bone over the outside door, in the belief that
the man first entering afterwards was to be the husband of
her who had hung the bone, and usually realizing the desired
fortune, and becoming, at- an early age, a hard-working
farmer's wife. «
A severe illness was often foretold by some member of the
family seeing a mysterious light in the house.
There were many signs of death : breaking a mirror, hear
ing a dog bark under the window, or a knock at the door,
when there was no one outside, having a bird fly against the
glass, seeing a phantom chaise and white horse drive into

PHANTOMS AND REALITIES. 133
the yard and silently drive away again, — these, and many
others, occurred frequently, and caused gloomy forebodings
in every heart. In these cases it was not known who was to
die; but there was a common occurrence, called an appa
rition, which indicated which member of the family it was to
be. These apparitions took the form of the person himself,
dressed as he was to be when, death found him. Such a
forerunner was seen in the meadow east of the old parson
age, near Powder hill, a little time before the death of the
wife of John Beeton. Her daughter was in the field and saw
her mother among the bushes, dressed in her every-day
print dress, her cap, and with handkerchief crossed on her
breast. She started to speak to her, when she suddenly dis
appeared. Another case of the same sort occurred on Brigham hill,
in Grafton. This was just before the war of 1758. Daniel
Brigham, a young man of twenty-three, was drafted into the
army, and the most strenuous efforts of the family failed to
procure a substitute. Just before leaving home, as he was
going up the road for the cattle, late one afternoon, he was
startled by seeing before him a man wrapped in an Indian
blanket. He recognized the figure and face of the man as
his own. It disappeared. His brother, standing in the
doorway of the old house, also saw the form. He went to
the war with the conviction that he should never return.

134

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

A few weeks after, he fell ill of a fever, at Crown Point.
When near the point of death, an Englishman found him
attended by a friendly Indian, and wrapped in an Indian
blanket. Afterwards the Englishinan brought back to Graf
ton this account of the realizatidn of their fears.
The exact spot where this apparition was seen has for many

^

7)\e-t(AVi.T\tecL-'^^-..L.J.

¦generations been pointed out to the children of the family.
It is not far beyond the Brigham homestead, now owned by
Mr. E. A. Brigham, on the '• old road," just after passing the
¦" dry bridge."
The belief in ghosts was nearly universal. It was sup
posed that the spirits of persons who had been murdered
were most apt to lie uneasy in their graves. As late as
1815 the majority believed that a house now standing on the
Southborough road was haunted. It is a small red house .on

PHANTOMS AND REALITIES. 135
the left-hand side, a short distance after the division of the
Marlborough and Southborough roads.
A man from Grafton, named Flagg, was returning from the
Revolution, with his pay tied ifp in a handkerchief — it was
about five hundred dollars. He stopped at this house to
inquire the way to Northborough, and the occupant offered
to show him a short cut across the fields. They started off
together, but Flagg was never again seen.
At the time of the hurricane in 18 15, there was blown
down a large white oak in a woodland on the west side of
the road leading by the house of Jonas Fay to Marlborough,
near the boundary fine between Southborough and Marl
borough. Entangled with the roots was found the skeleton
of a man. Mrs. Flagg — whose first husband was acciden
tally killed at a muster on South street — went, among others,
to see the bones. She identified them as those of her sec
ond husband, partly by his having " double teeth all around,"
and partly by the mark left on the bone of his leg, by a
bone-sore. The house, in the mean time, had been deserted. The
former occupant built himself a new house near by. No
other would stay in the house, — steps were heard ap
proaching, the tall shovel and tongs in the fireplace fell in
the night, strange noises were heard, and, more conclusive
than anything else, a light, like the light of a candle, was

136

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

seen night after night moving about on the neighboring hill,
on the spot where afterwards the white oak was uprooted.
Deacon Peter Fay, in his sketches of Southborough, has
given an account of the hght; and of an investigation , made
by a number of men and boys, including himself, who decided
that it was a star, gave three cheers for the ghost and went
home. But a lady about eighty years of age, being recently
asked what she really thought caused the light, gave the
more common belief of the day when she answered : —
"Why, you know murder will be brought to light. It
was the Lord."
Mrs. Whitney, a lady of ninety, now living in Worcester, '
was a native of Westborough. As a young girl, she remem
bers hearing the subject brought up anew, and thoroughly
talked over by the good people of the town, when the sus
pected murderer, after years of exemplary life, was asked
to join the Baptist church. He refused, saying that he had
committed a sin for which he could never be forgiven. He
seemed to live under a cloud.
There is a hill in the northen part of Northborough called
" Ghost hill." There was a man living in the town who was
heavily in debt to another. One night, when he knew his
creditor would be going home, he dressed himself in white,
and appearing to him, told him in a sepulchral voice not to
enforce his claim. The man was dreadfully frightened and

PHANTOMS AND REALITIES. 137
ran home. The debtor by this procedure escaped paying
his bill, and the hill where the event occurred received its
present name.
The eighteenth century was the border-line between old
and new superstitions. There was many a farmer who would
fasten a horseshoe to his stable door,
•' Lest some unseemly hag should fit
To his own mouth her bridle-bit."
On the old barn on the Andrews place, between East
Main and Lyman streets, the hinges are fastened into horse
shoes, put there, perhaps, to protect the dumb animals, who,
for some reason, seem to have been favorite victims of the
witches' art.
The belief in witchcraft was very slow to disappear. Peo
ple of all shades of belief were living here a century ago,
from those having a firm conviction that some of their fel
low-men actually made a compact with the devil, and signed
it with their own blood, to those ridiculing even the idea of
supernatural gifts. The person remembering the most
stories of Westborough witchcraft is the oldest living de
scendant of a family who came here from Salem.
There were two persons supposed to be in league with
the Evil One living here part of the time contemporaneously,
whose names are very familiar to most of the older people

138

THE HUNDREDTH TOM'N.

now in town, — Tom Cook and Ruth Buck. The former was
well known in all the towns of Massachusetts, and more or
less throughout New England. He lived in the house
afterwards occupied by Dr. Hawes. Among the deeds
recorded in Worcester is one from Thomas Forbush, of
Westborough, to Cornelius Cook, blacksmith, who, October
20, 1727, had married Forbush's youngest daughter, Eunice.
This deed, for four pounds and five shillings, conveys four
acres and fourteen rods of land " near Cranbury pond with
dwelling-house thereon where said Cornelius Cook doth now
dwell." This is dated December 26, 1732. In 1750 Cook
deeded this place, with house and barn, to Abijah Bruce ; but
in a few months it passed into the hands of Jonas Bradish,
who sold it to Jonas Rolf — the last owner before Dr. Hawes.
Since then, for more than a hundred years it has been in pos
session of his family.
Here, October 6, 1738, Tom Cook first opened his inno
cent baby eyes on the world, whose wrongs, in his own
eccentric way, he was to endeavor to right. Here he lived,
developing his own personality, and by his sweet baby
prattle, every day forcing his way further into his mother's
heart. When about three years old, he was taken very ill.
Mrs. Cook doubtless received the deacons and listened to
their prayers over her sick darhng, but it was whispered
among the women at the next Sunday's service that the

PHANTOMS AND REALITIES. 135
little bo}- was getting better, in answer to his mother's
wicked prayer, "Only spare his life; only spare his life,
and I care not what he becomes ! "
His early life must have been more eventful than that of
many of the farmers' lads in his vicinity. His father was a
man who seemed to get himself very easily into difficulty,
and when once before the church, he needed committees and
energetic personal endeavor to " restore him to charity."
When Tom was about six, his father was brought before the
church, and, according to the records, he read a paper " in
which he hoped he was truly humble and sensible of his
sin in profane swearing and prayed God and his people to
forgive him, &c."
After reading the paper he was asked if he had anything to
¦say upon it, and he told the church that "he doubted whether
he was in a state of Grace at the time of his taking s*^ oath
and was in doubt whether he ought to take it ; but insisted
that he was not guilty of taking it in the Manner the church
had understood, it was in no Passion &c. but as well as he
-could in the fear of God, even act of worship ; but as all
his prayers, public attendance &c, were then profane, so was
-this also, and he could not judge it any otherwise, &c." After
some debate, the Church decided that this confession was
unsatisfactory, and it was a year and a half before he
succeeded in making one which was sufficient to restore him
lo fellowship.

j.Q THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
When Tom was about fifteen, his brothers, Robert and
Stephen, were imprisoned and tried for killing an Indian at
Stockbridge. The Cook family moved to Wrentham, and in 1770 Mrs.
Cook was living in Douglass, but was still helped by the
Westborough church.
That the Evil One sometimes appeared, was a common be
lief and on the Brigham farm, on Brigham hill, Grafton, can
still be seen what was once supposed to be the print of his
foot in a rock behind the barn. Tradition does not say
how, or where, or when, Tom entered into a compact with
the devil ; but in some way, possibly by his mother, at the
time of his illness, he was pledged to serve that individual
for a number of years, receiving abundant help in return.
The last year rolled away, and found Tom still clinging
to this life, and unwilling to enter upon any other. The
devil came for him one morning, when he was dressing
for another active day, and his head was full of plans for
work. Tom had learned by that time to live upon his wits.
"Wait, wait, wait, can't you?" he said to his visitor,
" until I get my galluses on." And as soon as the latter
had signified his willingness to wait, he threw the suspenders
into the fire and never wore them again. H'e lived many
years after this.
Mr. Parkman, forty-one years after he had baptized

PHANTOMS AND REALITIES. 141
Eunice Cook's new baby, in the old Wessonville church,
still keeps an interest in him, and writes in his journal under
date of August 27, 1779: "The notorious Thom. Cook
came in (he says) on Purpose to see me. I gave him w'
admon" Instruction and Caution I could — I beseech God
to give it Force! He leaves me with fair Words — thankf
and Promising."
So he parted from the old minister, leaving him to admon
ish, instruct, and caution, while he, in his own way, straight
ened out the injustices of the world.
Cook was called a very attractive man; "of medium size,
remarkably agile and well formed, — his face and head be
tokened unusual intelligence. His eyes were his most striking
feature," described by one who had seen him as "of deep blue,
the most piercing and, at the same time, the most kindly eyes
that he ever saw." Before his long life closed he bore the
scars of many an encounter ; on one hand, every finger
had been broken, and if set at all, generally in a very un
scientific manner. In some way the various bones grew
together, and Tom's body at length resembled some knotted,
gnarled old tree. With children he was a great favorite.
His pockets were always filled with toys, which he had
stolen for their amusement, and nothing pleased him more
than to relate his adventures to their wondering ears.
Among the large class who did not believe in his league

J 42 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
with the devil, there were many who admired his shrewd
ness and skill, and, in a certain sense, were his friends. He-
was called a thief; •now he is usually spoken of as "the
honest thief; " his own name for himself was " the lev
eller." He spent most of his time wandering about the
country, stealing in one place with such skill and boldness
that he was rarely detected, and bestowing his booty in
another with an equal delicacy and kindliness. He was
familiar with the simple habits of the people, and knew at
what hour it was best to slip into the well-to-do farmer's
kitchen, to quietly abstract the pudding from the "boiled
pot," and, carrying it in its steaming bag to the next house,
where the man was poorer and the family larger, to drop
it noiselessly in their less highly favored kettle.
He did not always do his work in so unobtrusive a man
ner. Many of his acts were unpremeditated and done in
full sight. One day he was walking along the country road,.
and saw some children crying because they were hungry.
Just that moment there passed a man on his way home
from the corn-mill, with a load of bags of grain. Tom took
one from the back of the wagon, and quickening his pace,.
walked ahead of the man, and gave the grain to the chil
dren's mother. The man saw him, but did not think of its-
being one of his meal-bags, until he reached home and took
an account of stock.

PHANTOMS AND REALITIES. 143
Another time he went into a house, and upstairs. His
object this time was to procure a feather-bed for some poor
invalid whose slender purse forbade the purchase of such
luxuries. He selected the best the house afforded, tied it
closely in a sheet, took it downstairs, and knocked loudly at
the front door.
" Can I leave this bundle here, till I call for it in a few
days? " he asked, politely.
The woman recognized him, but not the bundle, and
¦preferred. to have him carry it elsewhere. So he took it up
again with an easy conscience, and trudged on.
The farmers bore his oft-repeated thefts, with but few
attempts to bring him to justice. Some of the more wealthy,
who naturally would have been his chief victims, paid him
annually a sum, which exempted them from his depreda
tions, and probably nearly equalled in value what Tom
would have expected in the practice of his profession to
wrest from them.
He did not confine his depredations to houses, but patron
ized stores as well. One time, after he had broken into a
shop in 'VVoonsocket, and was travelling along the highway,
he heard sleigh-bells behind him, which he rightfully
guesSed belonged to the officers sent in his pursuit. He
jumped a wall, went to a haystack, and commenced pull
ing hay for the cattle. The officers drove up and stopped.

J 44 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
" Hullo," they shouted ; " seen a man running past
here? "
" Just went by," answered Tom ; " you'll overtake him in
a minute." As soon as they were out of sight, he took off his shoes,
and in true Indian fashion tied them on with the toes at the
heels, and tramped over the snow to a neighboring swamp.
The officers finally returned, and saw where the man had
come from, but could not find where he had gone.
Another time he was less successful, and was captured by
the officers, and mounted on the horse behind one of them,
and carried along towards the jail. By using his hands skil
fully he managed to tie the man, unknown to him, fast to his
horse. He then complained that he was tired of the horse's
'hard gait, and asked permission to get down and ride on the
other. This was granted him, and once seated behind the
second officer, he proceeded quietly to tie him to his horse.
This accomplished, he jumped down and disappeared in the
woods, probably leaving the officers in firm belief that their
missing prisoner was in league with the Evil One, who had
sent unseen hands to help his ally in distress.
In the course of his long life he was often arrested. At
one time he selected a meeting-house in one of the towns in
this vicinity^ for a place where he could retire after a success
ful raid, and, undisturbed, look over his boot}-, and develop

PHANTOMS AA'D REALITIES. 145
his philanthropic plans. It was mistrusted that all was not
right, and a watch was set. One night, Tom appeared
through the window, seated himself in one of the capacious
square pews, with his bag by his side, and commenced haul
ing out his plunder. Each article he laid aside, after decid
ing on whom it should be bestowed. Then came a bottle
of cider, and he put it down with a smack of satisfaction, —
" Ah, this is good for old Tom." — " Yes," cried the officer,
springing from his place of concealment, " and this is good
for old Tom." And he arrested him, and carried him to
the " goal."
But a time came when more imminent danger threatened
Tom, when he was actually brought into court, and heard the
awful words of the judge : " And I therefore sentence you to
be hanged by the neck until you are dead, dead, dead."
But under these trying circumstances his courage did not
fail. " I shall not be there that day, day, day," he answered.
And when the day for his execution came, he had man
aged in some way to break through bolt and bar, and the
wondering authorities thought " best not to look him up."
Tom never acquired wealth for himself, and, when a severe
accident to his leg, together with advancing old age, took
away his agility, his means of a livelihood were gone, and
he settled down in Westborough. One of the last years of

146

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

his life he spent on the farm of Mr. Levi Bowman, who
boarded the town's poor. His house was the last on the old
Upton road, before reaching the poor-farm. Tom spent his
winters contentedly under shelter, but in summer he wan
dered about, and finally, when nearly ninety years of age, he
ran away from his home in the poor-house, and died near
Boston. He was brought back here for burial, and at an ex
pense of forty dollars was finally laid to rest.
He left no successor to go on with his cherished work.
He had at one time, after the manner of the Jew Fagin, taken
a young apprentice to teach him his trade. One evening he
gave him a package of valuables to hide. The boy went
awa}' with them, and, soon returning, told Tom that he had
put them under a certain large stone. When he fell asleep,
Tom stole out and removed the goods. The next morning
he sent the boy for them, who, coming back, sadly reported
that they were gone.
" You must have been telling some one where you put
them," said Tom. But the apprentice honestly declared he
had told no one.
" But you did," said Tom ; " you told me. That is no
way to do business. Keep it to yourself"
Of Ruth Buck's ancestry we know nothing, nor was she
associated with any particular locality. The Town Records
mention her first in 1763, about seventy-one years before her

PHANTOMS AND REALITIES. 147
¦death. In the warrant for the town-meeting, May 9, 1763,
one article was, " To see what y" Town will do with respect
to Ruth Buck, which y^ Selectmen of this Town have sent to
Southboro', for y'^' Selectmen of Southboro' refuse to take y"
sd Ruth Buck as their proper charge." They " voted not to
•stand Toyal (trial) with Southboro' with respect to Ruth
Buck." In October of the same year, Mr. Samuel Allen
.prayed " that y" Town would Relieve Him someway or other
with respect to Ruth Buck and her child." They afterwards
appropriated money for her support, and so in the early
days of her unfortunate motherhood she became a town
¦charge. What became of the little one whose babyhood was so
overshadowed with trouble and want we do not know. The
fact of his existence faded from the minds of most. In
1778 Ruth appeared before the church, confessed her sin, and
¦was " admitted into full communion." Of the next years of
her life we know nothing; perhaps they were the best years,
spent in the care of her boy.
Full communion with the church did not mean full social
fellowship with the good people of the town. It is not long
before we find her regarded with distru.st, though still going
from house to house, following her profession of tailoress,
looked upon with fear by the little children, and by many of
their elders as a social outcast and witch.

148

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

What she herself thought has come down to us in a very
negative way. Old David Fay, a rough, eccentric man,
called out to her one morning as she was passing his
house : —
" Well, Ruth, they say you are a witch."
" If I'm a witch," she answered, as she trudged on, " you
are the devil."
She is remembered as a very stout woman, with large,
strong features. Her temper was uncertain, and many a
sharp retort came from her lips. It was a bad thing to
arouse her opposition, and feel the sting of her venomous
hate. She always wore a cap or handkerchief on her head, some
times of white material, more commonly of plaid. Below it
was seen a bit of the lobe of each ear, with a little gold knob
fastened into it. She was never seen without this covering,
and it was said and believed that she had a very good reason
for wearing it. One day she had asked a farmer to do some
ploughing for her. His refusal displeased her, and she
angrily said, " You will have trouble with your oxen to-day."
The farmer found she was right ; the usually docile beasts
refused to move. At last, feeling sure that they were be
witched, he resorted to the usual method of letting out the
evil spirit, and cut off the tops of their ears. From that
time dates Ruth's wearing of the head covering, and it was

PHANTOMS AND REALITIES. 149
generally understood that the few who, in some unguarded
moment, had obtained a glimpse beneath it had seen that
lier ears were cropped.
Across her throat she had a long purple mark, which she
-covered with a handkerchief crossed in front. There was a
farmer living in Grafton whose sheep one day showed the
familiar and unmistakable signs of being bewitched, not only
by their erratic actions, but even more by the blindness
which had suddenly come upon the whole flock. At last
he resorted to the " sharp medicine " of the knife, cutting
the throat of the worst one. He had no more trouble with
them ; but, until her death, Ruth was marked with a livid
line just where the farmer's knife had cut the bewitched sheep.
She seems to have oftener used her uncanny influence
over inanimate things. One day she met Mr. Joseph Bel
knap, soon after he had started from his farm at Rocklawn,
to " go below," as was the phrase commonly used of a
trip to Boston, with a large number of eggs for the market.
She asked for some; but he refused to sell them, as his box
was even, full, and closely packed. "Well, as you please,"
she answered ; " but you will never get those eggs safe to the
market." In some unaccountable way, near the end of his long
drive, the board in the back of his wagon came out, and
the box of eggs slid to the ground. Every one was broken.

J CO THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
Another time, a farmer, against whom she had previously
vowed vengeance, passed her as he was carrying a load
of wood to the school-house, now known as No. 2, near
the H. A. Gilmore farm. She told him he would never
reach there safely with his load. She passed on, but
the oxen refused to move ; he took off part of the load,
but, after a short distance, they stopped again. This was-
repeated, until, just before reaching his destination, he
threw off the last stick, and the oxen, starting on a dead
run, rushed by the school-house.
There were innumerable slight annoyances to which the
good woman of the house was subjected, against whom
Ruth Buck had a spite. When she lighted her candles^
she found that all below the rim.of the old-fashioned candle
stick was gone ; only the wick was left. These candlesticks
were made with a long socket, which held more than half
the candle ; a small slide raised or lowered at will made
it possible to burn them almost the entire length. She
believed the witch had come in an invisible shape and
eaten the candles.
Mrs. Samuel -Grout was one of the ladies most annoyed
by Ruth's pranks : her bread wouldn't rise ; it refused to-
bake, no matter how hot the oven might be ; the butter
wouldn't come, and many other things went wrong in
her work. One day, after churning for a long time, she

PHANTOMS AND REALITIES. 151
tried, on a large scale, the remedy mentioned by Whittier
in his New England Legend, —
"The goodwife's churn no more refuses
Its wonted culinary uses.
Until with heated needle burned.
The witch has to her place returned," —
and dropped a hot brick into the offending cream. The
butter soon came, but not long afterwards a neighbor ran
in saying that Ruth Buck had been dreadfully burned.
Mrs. Grout, seeing Ruth soon after with her hand in a
poultice, asked her what the matter was.
" You know what is the matter," was her answer, " and
you'll find yourself well paid."
The same day, one of Mr. Grout's cows was found
with a broken leg, with n,o apparent reason for the accident.
This was not the only burn that Ruth received. One
day Mrs. Beeman was very much troubled ' with the
behavior of her spinning-wheel. It refused to turn, the
thread broke, and the good- woman's patience was well-nigh
exhausted. She took an old horseshoe, heated it red-hot,
and laid it on the wheel. Everything went smoothly
after that, but Ruth bore the scar for many a day.
This woman, so the farmers' wives thought, had the
power of knowing when she was talked about, and hearing
what was said. Perhaps the low tones they thought nec
essary to use when telling each other about the afflictions

152 TIIE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
she had brought upon them, may account in part for the
lasting impression of curiosity and awe which her character
left on the little children of the day, now most of them
past their eightieth year.
One day she was trudging up a long hill in Upton, when
a girl named Lackey looked out from one of the windows
of a house on top of the hill, and saw her coming.
"Oh dear," she said to her mother, "here comes Ruth
Buck. I hope she isn't coming to stay."
Ruth came on, made a pleasant call, but refused all
their invitations to lay aside her wraps. When she stepped
over the threshold after bidding them good-by, her ex
pression changed. Looking sharply at her late hostesses,
she said : " Oh dear, here comes Ruth Buck. I hope she
isn't coming to stay. Won't you take off your things?
I don't want you to stay."
She went off repeating these words to herself.
The last years of her life she was obliged, to a great
extent, to give up her wandering habits. After the manner
of dealing with paupers in the early part of this century,
she was knocked down at auction to the person . offering
to board her for the least sum, and so fell to the thrifty
hospitality of John Fay, who lived about two miles from
the station, on the North Grafton road.
She finally, in 1834, at the age of ninety-two, ended her
days in the poor-house.

PHANTOMS AND REALITIES. 153
Since her day there has been no one in town invested
with her peculiar gifts.
The wife of Barechias Morse, who lived on the right-
hand side of the road from Prentiss Mills to Woodville,
was one of the Framingham Goddards. Her father, about
1745, owned a young slave boy. While he was living
at Mr. Goddard's, things began to go wrong : the milk
down cellar was found full of dirt; the food was spoiled;
things were lost; books were torn; but the Bible, the
prayer-books, and the hymn-books were never touched.
Mrs. Goddard was fond of the slave boy, but at last
came to half agree with her husband that he must be the
cause of all their trouble, and consented that he should
be tested for a day, by tying him into a chair, where her
eye could be upon him. While he was tied, some things
in a bureau drawer near the place where Mrs. Goddard
was sitting suddenly flew into the fire.
Mrs. Goddard then begged her husband not to suspect
the boy longer, for he had always been a good lad.
But in view of their manifold afflictions, they thought
best to have a day of fasting and prayer, and the ministers
from all the neighboring towns — Mr. Parkman, doubtless,
among the number — met at Mr. Goddard's home, to
wrestle against this unseen power.
After that day, all trouble ceased.

154

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

/J-:'}

CHAPTER VIII.

STEPHEN MAYNARD AND SOME OF HIS NEIGHBORS.

N the left-hand side of the road to Northborough,
a little back from the street, stands a large, square
house, even now in its old age looking hale and
handsome. It is occupied by B. J. Stone. A hundred
years ago and more, it was the mansion of Westborough's
richest man, Capt. Stephen Maynard.
This house he built himself with the greatest care. He

-MAYNARD AND SO. ME OF HIS NEIGHBORS. 155
spent seven years in selecting the timber, and all the work
was well and carefully done. It is known that he built it
before 1772, but not just when. His eldest child was born
in 1743. In 1757 his wife. Thankful, died, leaving him
with six children. A year before this. Dr. Samuel Brigham,
of Marlborough, had died, leaving four children. Not long
after his wife's death. Captain Maynard married Mrs.
Brigham, and the ten children played together on the large
farm. He kept three slaves, — a man, his wife, and their daugh
ter, the latter being the warm friend and playfellow of his
little step-daughter, Anne Brigham. The heavy walls lead
ing up the avenue to the house were built by this slave man,
and this is said to have been among the very last labor
performed by slaves in Massachusetts.
Although a man " of quality," he kept open house for
the accommodation of travellers, and so added a little to
his income. Nor did Mrs. Anne Maynard intend to have
this a losing matter to him ; and one day when three or
four drunken Indians knocked at her door and demanded
food, she slipped the long oven poker into the hot coals,
while she talked with them. Finding they did not intend
to pay, and were not disposed to leave peacefully, she
brought out her red-hot poker. They left.
The Town Records are full of Stephen Maynard and

156

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

his doings. He was a .stiff Whig, foremost in politics in
his time, selectman, chief officer of all the town's militia,
and representative in the General Court. It is less easy to
get records of his social and family hfe than of his public
career. In the hope of opening the way for his son, Antipas, to
become a wealthy man, he persuaded Isaac Davis, of Rut
land, to settle near him, and teach his son the tanner's
trade. But in 1772 the young tanner had won the heart
of Anne Brigham, and they commenced housekeeping for
themselves, Antipas being a member of their family. One
evening, Mrs. Davis saw him leave the house, and, having
a presentiment that something was wrong, she took a light
and went to his room.
All his clothing and belongings were gone. For twelve
years nothing was heard from him ; then a letter came,
saying that his desire to travel, for which he could not get
his father's consent, had led him to leave. He had been
in Spain and England, and finally settled in the Isle of
Guernsey, in the tanner's trade.
Isaac Davis and Anne Brigham became the ancestors of
a large family, John Davis, the governor, being one of their
sons. They lived the early part of their married life in
the " Broaders house," the last house on the left-hand
side of the Northborough road, before crossing the Assabet.

MAYNARD AND SOME OF HIS NEIGHBORS.

157

Afterwards Deacon Davis bought, in consideration of eigh
teen hundred ounces of plated silver, the place now known
as the Davis homestead, and owned by Mrs. George C.
Davis. Here he planted the beautiful elms, one of them
owing its long life to Governor Davis' love of trees. It is

O I'rf/i L I a_c.e_ o-f (^oY. 4°/in I^ a.Y L«,

now one of the handsomest in the group. It has fastened
into it a ring and chain for hitching horses. The old
Davis house stood a little nearer the road, surrounded by
young elms. When Mr. Davis was making some repairs
on the roof of the L, he decided to cut down this tree ;
but his son John begged that he would spare it, pledging
himself to pay for all the shingles spoilt by its shade. He,

158

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

with the help of two other young men, bent the tree over
out of the way of the workmen until the work was done.
The large stone before the front door of Mrs. Davis' house
was the hearthstone in the old house.
This house was the one originally built by Isaac Tomlin,
one of the first deacons of the Westborough church.
Isaac Davis is to-day remembered as " large, tall, and
stern ; " one of the representative men of his time. He
outlived Anne Brigham by many years, and was twice
married after her death. For his second wife he married
a widow, living in New Hampshire. She had bought a
barrel-churn with one of her' neighbors, each one paying
half of the cost. After her marriage to Mr. Davis, he went
to call on this neighbor to arrange about the churn, for then,
as now, there was no law to which they could appeal for a
just division of personal property owned in common. He
proposed various plans, — that she should sell him her share
in the churn, or buy his wife's ; but nothing pleased her.
At last, going out to his wagon, he came back with a saw,
saying, " Talking this over with my wife, I anticipated this
trouble, and came prepared for it."
He quietly sawed the churn in two, and with the remark,
" We are willing to give you the largest half," left her with
the side having the crank.
He was one of the deacons of the Northborough church.

-MAYNARD AND SOME OF HIS NEIGHBORS. 159
respected, honored, and venerated as one worthy to hold that
position. A grandson of his remembers riding to church
one Sunday on his knee, and seeing a gray squirrel bound
across the road. In his delight, he called his grandfather's
attention to it, and received from the stern old deacon a
sharp twist of the ear, and the quick reproof that " squirrels
are not to be mentioned to-day."
Stephen Maynard was a friend of Mr. Parkman's, and
apparently regarded by the old minister with much favor.
When John Beeton, the young Scotch blacksmith, walked
over with his wife from Hopkinton, with bags full of English
coin, to buy the old parsonage and farm, Mr. Parkman
refused to sell to him. Only a man of distinction, he said,
should buy his farm. The young Scot turned away, bided
his time, met Stephen Maynard, and stated the case to him.
Captain Maynard willingly undertook the purchase of the
farm, and Mr. Parkman felt no little satisfaction in passing
over a deed to him.
In giving the boundaries of the farm in this deed, one of
the localities mentioned is Powder hill. This name is very
old. In 1737 Mr. Parkman uses it in his journal. The
origin of the name has been preserved by a tradition. It is
said that, during one of the early Indian wars, a heavy pow
der-wagon was being dragged by four stout horses up the
hill, when one of the kegs of powder rolled off, the head

j5o the HUNDREDTH TOWN.
came out, and the contents were scattered over the ground.
The men watched in dismay, expecting to see the sparks
from the iron calks of the horses' shoes ignite the powder,
when a terrible explosion must have foUowed. They,
however, passed it safely.
Captain Maynard, within a few days, transferred this
deed to John Beeton. Mr. Parkman had cut some wood
north of the house, which he had reserved at the time
of the sale, but forgot to stipulate for a right of way
thereto. Soon after Mr. Beeton took possession, Mr. Park-
man sent his servants with cart and oxen for the wood.
The new owner stood at the great gate to ask what this
meant. They told him their purpose. " You go back to
Mr. Parkman and tell him only a man of distinction can
cross MY FARM," he said; Mr. Parkman himself had to
ask permission to get the wood.
Afterwards the independent young Scot and the distin
guished minister became good friends, and many a time the
minister's horse was fastened in front of the old parsonage,
while the two drank their home-brewed beer and discussed
the advisability of written or extemporaneous prayer; for
John Beeton was a Presbyterian, and Mr. Parkman adhered
to many of the forms of the Church of England.
The Beeton family occupied the old parsonage for ninety
years or more. The last member of the family in West-

MAYNARD AND SOME OF HIS NEIGHBORS. i6i
borough. Miss Jane Beeton, lived here through her early
childhood. Her mother was a daughter of Mr. Amasa
Maynard, who fed Dr. Ball on the old mare's meat. An
other daughter of his ran away from home when she was
fourteen, and married a Cook. They lived in Moultonbor-
ough, in the White Mountains, and furnished refreshments for
travellers, who called her "the old woman of the moun
tains." When Miss Martineau was in this country, she went
to their house. Mrs. Cook was charmed with her, and wish
ing to make her a present, she took from her store-room
some strings of dried apple. Miss Martineau received the
gift very prettily, and, like the heroine of Adelaide Proctor's
"Wayside Inn," " She tied it to her saddle.
With a ribbon from her hair,"
and so rode away.
Amasa Maynard and his family were for some time near
neighbors of Stephen Maynard, living awhile in the Broaders
house, and then in the house on the opposite side of the
road, which has lately been bought by the Lyman school,
and distinguished with an addition much larger than the
original house. On this place a thousand of Burgoyne's
troops were quartered for a night while on their march to
Boston after the surrender.

1 62

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

One of Stephen Maynard's grocery bills is still in ex
istence.

It begins as follows : —

" Mr. Stephen Maynard Dr., Westborough.
" To Isaac Forbush & Asaph Warren April 8, 1803.

I qt. W. I. Rum
May 24. I qt. Molasses. .
I lb. sugar.
\ lb. allspice
June 12. I qt. W. I. Rum.
^ doz. Biscuit .
July 22. 2 lb. Shugar
Aug. 4. 3^ pints W. I. Rum
" 9. 3i lbs. Sugar
" 10. 3J pints W. I. Rum
" 20. \ lb. Pigtail Tobacco
Nov. 30. I qt. W. I. Rum.
Dec. II. I Bushel Coase Salt
Feb'y 8. 1804. i Qt. W. I. Rum
April 30. ih, lb. Gotten .
May 29. To Sundry articles
Sept. 8. I pare of Shoes
Jan'y 12 3 pints W. I. Rum
1805 I dozen biscuits
&c."

I-

a.

d.

10

9

9i

6
10
6
I.
7
I.
6
2.
3
I
4
II
6.
6-
I.
2.
3
3-
3
6.
9
t.
6
I.
0
MAYNARD AND SOME OF HIS NEIGHBORS. 163

These biscuits were probably the kind described by Pro
fessor Dwight in his travels in New England, in the early
part of this century. He says, " The white bread served up
at tables in this County and in the country further east,
particularly in the Inns, is made in the form of large biscuits,
dry and hard, but agreea'ole to the taste, yet inferior to the
crackers, made in the country farther West."
Stephen Maynard died in 1806. The family wore mourn
ing, as we know from one of Parkman, Tyler, & Parker's bills.
They kept the largest store in town, — dry-goods, groceries,
etc. Parkman was Breck Parkman, a son of the minister.
The bill is as follows : — "Westborough May 7. 1806.
" The Estate of Stephen Maynard, late deceased to Parkman,
Tyler & Parker — Dr. the following mourning apparel &c.
To 6 yds. cambrick ® 3/9  3-75
yi yd Crape gaws. 7/ . . • • .0.58
Cotton gloves . . . • • • • -58
a pair shoes . . ... ¦ 0.75
2| yds. mourning ribbon ® 6d. .... .23
Sewing silk & taste .... . 15
towards the bonnet, ... 5
3 pints W. I. Rum, ¦ • • 38
Loaf sugar . • .28 6.75 "

164

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

After Captain Maynard's death, there was an auction of
his personal property. The list, with the exception of farm
ing tools, of which there were many, is as follows: —
" I good grate coat 5.50
I blue strate bad coat 2.50
I Nancin Wesket. '75 I old Ditto, 17. I pair
pantaloons nankut .50 . ... 1.52
I pair Wollen Ditto .85. i Wollen Frock, 90 . 1.74
I pair Cotton Shirts 3.00 old great coat. .35 . 3.35
I hat .85, I pair boots i.oo i pair shooes Calfkin. 80 2.64
I pair old shoes, .20.— ...... .20

$16.88
"Number old books, 50, i Brass kittel 3.50. i Tea-
kittel 66.  4.66
I cheese basket 2 cheese hoop, 35. i box, 35, 2
pair old cans, 35. . . . 1.04
I old half bushel 2 half peck 25. i powder-horn 10, 34
3 milk pans, 42. i old warming pan 25. i old
lamb, 24 . . . .92
I briddle 50, i great chair 30, 9 old chairs 1.85 . 3.04
I Bread troath 2 Sieves 1.25, 4 old pails, i fligen
1.25 ... ... 2.50
I grat Wheel i, 2 foot wheels old 2.00 i pine chest
2 boxes old ....... 5.00

.MAYNARD AND SOME OF HIS NEIGHBORS.

165

I Candel stand, 12. i pine tabel i.oo, i old trundel
Bedsted ... ... 1.52
I Shugar Box, 2 three gimblets 25, 2 hamer old, 25, 50
I pair Sheep Shers & 3 Whetstones, 2 old fils . .85
2 Sighs & Snath 2.00 2 old hoes, 60 . . . 2.60
I Ct. of old iron 34. 3 old axes 75 . .152
I old pilling 50 . . . . . 50
I iron pot 75, I dish kittel 75, i Stue pan, .40 . i 90
Pear of tongs 1.25 i pair andirons 2.20 i tort-
iorns (?) 34  3-79
4 small Grain hooks 20, i tin lantorn 35, . 55
I pair bellases 40, i churn 10, i tunel 2 wash-
tubs 42, . . . . . . 158
2 meet tubs & Sope 3.50 5 Sider Barrels 1.60 . 5. 10
I Corn basket 25. 2 plows 7.00 i Wooling Shod
Shovel 50 . . ... 7.74
I dung fork 55. 2 old forks & i old Scekel 25 . .80
I chest, five Draws, 5.00 i pine tabel with Draws,
1. 10  6.10
I old Chist 25. 3 small Earthen plats 30. 6 larger
Ditto 30  0.85
5 Tea-cups Sasers 35,1 small mug & Bale 12, tin
Waire 17 .... . .64
3 puter platters 1.50, 3 puter plats 50. 3 Basens
old and poor 90  2.90

1 66

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

2 Glase Bottols 35, 7 knives & forks 30, i Shugar
Box 12 .......
I looking glass 75, i male bagg 80. i bedsted
painted 75- ¦
I Bed-cord 30 ...... •

" I Bed, 2 Beding indor Bedsted & cord
5 Coverlets 6.25 3 sheets old and poor, 75.
4 piller cases Cotton 60. i table Cloath 35
I Bed under bod bolster & two pillers & Cord

" A right in the Westborough Library,
2 books. .....
2 Glass tumblers & crocker ware .
2 old towels grater & pepper box
I bed quilt .....
I puter platter ....

77
2.30 30
41. 1 1
13.00 7- ¦94
3.00
28.94 2.75 .50 •35 23
2. I. "

James Hawes, Jr., bought the warming-pan. It may be
the one still hanging in Dr. Hawes' old house. His clothes
were sold to his old neighbors. The house passed out of
the hands of his family.

THE LAST OF THE NIPMUCKS. 1 67

CHAPTER IX.

THE LAST OF THE NIPMUCKS.

|HE;N first visited by white men, almost the whole
of the present area of Westborough was a wilder
ness. A few scattered Indian wigwams, as Jack
Straw's and the one near Chauncy, were the residences of
Indians ; but the nearest Indian village was at Hassanamisco,
— six miles away, — now known as Grafton. Here, in 1654,
Eliot came and commenced his labor of love among the peo
ple. In 1671 he established here his second mission church.
Nearly all the towns of " praying Indians " were provided
"with teachers from Hassanamisco. In 1674, Eliot, with his
distinguished friend. Gen. Daniel Gookin, visited all the
praying Indians of the Nipmuck country ; and General
Gookin wrote a description of them, which has been re
printed in the first volume of the Massachusetts Historical
Collection. At that time there were about sixty persons in
the town. Wattascompanum lived here, the chief ruler of
the whole Nipmuck country. His English name was Cap
tain Tom.

l68 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
Everything looked promising and hopeful for the forma
tion and continuance of a Christian village, when, in 1675,.
King Philip's war broke out. These Christian Indians had
to choose between their new friends and those nearest to-
them by ties of blood. We can hardly wonder that
many of them forsook the newer obligation and joined
Philip, — some finally returning to the English, others taken
fighting with the enemy. Among these latter, it was
claimed, was that "grave and pious man," Wattascompanum,
who, a few months later, was executed in Boston, in spite of
insufficient testimony. " On the ladder," Eliot says, in an
account of his death, " he lifted up his hands and said, ' I
never did lift up my hands against the English, nor was I at
Sudbury, only I was willing to go away with the enemies
that surprised us.' When the ladder was turned, he lifted
up his hands to heaven, and so held them till strength failed,.
and they by degrees sunk down."
During the war, a battle was fought on Keith hill, very
near the farm-house now owned by Mr. David L. Fiske. It
was supposed that there were about forty Indians who took
part in this fight. They carried their own dead away with
them. "When Captain Henchman, in the morning, returned
to the battle-field, he found the heads of two of his men,
facing each other, on crotched poles, before the wigwam
door. About seventy years ago, the graves of these two-

THE LAST OF THE NIPMUCKS.

169

men were .still visible, and were marked by stones. Mr.
Keith, then living there, had the stones taken up and put
in the wall on the east side of the field, saying it was no
worse to have " corn growing over their bones than stones
on top of them."
For a time Hassanamisco was nearly deserted, but grad
ually the Indians came back to their old "homes, and in
1698 five families had returned. The first land owned by a
white man in Grafton was that part of the "Farms District"
which Netus, in 1665, "with the consent of the Indians at
Nep-nap," transferred to Elijah Corlett, the teacher of the
Cambridge grammar school, in payment for his son's educa
tion. This land is described as being " at the north end of
Nep-nap hill, being about three miles distant, northerly, from
the Indian plantation." This same farm was afterwards sold
to Peter Goulding, of Sudbury, " for one negro wench called
Nanny, delivered at £2i,.io, and .^10. in money."
In 1728 the whole town was purchased by the English for
twenty-five hundred pounds. This money was not paid di
rectly to the Indians, but to trustees appointed by the Gen
eral Court, who were to invest it as a permanent fund, and
pay out the interest to the original proprietors. Each Indian
proprietor had an allotment of land equal to that given to
each white proprietor, and one hundred acres common land
in addition.

^70 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
Until 1772 the interest on the original fund, much reduced
by the change in currency, was paid to the Indians. Then
petitions began to come in from them complaining that
they failed to receive the money.
Ten years later, Joseph Aaron and others complained
that for seven years they had not received a quarter of their
interest. In reading the General Court Records, his name is
the first we meet of the old Hassanamiscoes remembered by
persons now living. He wa.s a soldier in the Revolution. In
the early part of this century he was living in the swamp,
half a mile this side of B. A. Nourse's present house, — a full-
blooded Indian, with long, straight hair. He lived alone,
weaving his baskets, wandering into the houses and barns of
his white neighbors, and quoting scraps of Scripture, right, or
oftener wrong. Sitting in the old Nourse barn one day, he
commenced, "If sinners entice thee, consent thou." Mr.
Nourse — father of Mr. David Nourse, now living in his
ninety-second year — corrected the quotation. Old Jo
threw back his head with a hearty laugh, " Well," he an
swered, " you can't expect me to remember the whole
Bible." From that time to this, some remnants of the tribe have-
remained in their old home, still praying for the money
which is their just due. In 1841, when a new trustee was
appointed, it was found there were no funds. In a report

THE LAST OF THE NIPMUCKS. ,71
made in 1861 to the Governor and Council by John Milton
Earle, special commissioner, he says : " The State in its
sovereign capacity took their property into its keeping, and
has suffered it to be squandered or lost." From time to
time small sums of money have been granted them, but the •
whole together amounts to but a small part of what they
should have received.
In the early part of this century there were several fami
lies of Hassanamiscoes living in this vicinity, — one family, at
least, in Westborough, that of old Andrew Brown. He lived,
with his wife and children, on the Flanders road, near the
Beeman farm, and later, on the cross-road which turns to the
right just before reaching the hospital.
His wife was Hannah Thomas, daughter of Mary and
James Thomas, of pure Hassanamisco descent. They had
four children : Andrew Comache, Elizabeth, Lucinda, and
their famous daughter. Deb. Like all the Indians, he and
his family spent their time making baskets, and drinking up
the profits from the sale of them. He was a tall Indian,
with straight, black hair, and had served in the Revolution,
receiving there a wound which made him lame for life.
During the war, his wife and daughter, then a small child,
followed the army, and had many adventures with rattle
snakes, catamounts, and other wild beasts.
Once when some people were passing his house, they saw

J 72 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
the old Indian lying under a tree quite drunk. His wife,
standing near, looked at him with contempt : " Poor old
Indian," she said; "got dhrunk on schwamp water."
The daughter, Deb, was for many years a celebrated
tramp. She was friend and travelling companion of Sarah
Boston, of Grafton She was married to one qf the Grafton
Indians named Pease, who treated her cruelly, and in one of
their quarrels broke her hip. She was always lame after
this. One day, when quite old, and small, and wrinkled, she came
to Mr. Beeman's farm on the Flanders road, holding in her
hand a bottle of medicine, which some considerate old lady
had given her, marked, "Take me and I'll cure you." She
was on her way to the poor-farm, where, a few days after
wards, she died. She left two daughters ; one of them, Mrs.
Robert E. Brown, now lives in Worcester, and has in her
possession a daguerreotype of her mother taken in a brightly
flowered gown, deep lace collar, and large, square breast-pin.
A true Indian, she joined to her roving disposition a love
of bright colors, which she always wore.
There were several families named Gigger (pronounced
Jidger) in town, they being of mixed Hassanamisco descent.
Josiah Gigger, who was brought before Justice Hawes in
1 812, lived on a cross-road between the Southborough and
Flanders roads, on the farm now owned by Mr. George Har-

THE LAST OF THE NIPMUCKS. 173
rington. He married Lucinda, a daughter of Andrew Brown,
and left a large family of children.
More persons now living remember Simon Gigger. He
was short and small, living first in a swamp towards Shrews
bury, in a hut built of stones, the walls being two feet thick
at the base, a-nd gradually growing narrower at the top. It
sloped from the bottom to the ridge-pole ; the stones were
covered with sods and branches of trees. In the top was a
hole to let out the smoke from the wood-fire blazing under
neath. A plank for a table comprised the furniture ; and
here sat " old Gigger," surrounded by his family, making
baskets and drinking. There lived with him his brother,
Daniel, his sister, Sallie, — who escaped killing one of her
white neighbors, only because the gun refused to go off, —
and Bets Hendricks, the owner of the famous violin, to
whose music the people in all the taverns, and the children
in all the farm kitchens, danced sixty years ago.
An old Indian woman speaks to-day with a shudder of
the quarrels between Gigger and Bets, and his fearful cruelty
to her. One time she got more than even with him by
striking him with a scythe and cutting his thumb so that it
fell over into his hand. But this quarrel, like all the others,
was readily healed, and the cut thumb was cured by a gener
ous application of balm of Gilead.
The remains of his old shanty can still be found near the

1-74 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
arch bridge on the Boston & Albany railroad. It is on the
north side of the railroad, about twenty roads east of the
western intersection of the old and new road-beds, a half-
dozen rods north of the new embankment. There is now left
merely a collection of loosely piled-up stones, half hidden
by the dense brush, but indicated as once having been a
human habitation by the bright little faces of the ladies'
delights, which, in the struggle for existence, have outlasted
the Indian family which planted them in the wilderness.
Gigger afterwards lived on the " old Mill road," on the
right-hand side as you go from Main street, on land now
owned by Mr. Moses Pollard. For many years the hill was
called for him, " Gigger hill." Here he built a kind of wig
wam, and lived with Bets Hendricks and Deb Brown. Sarah
Boston often visited there. When not in his house, Gigger
roamed the streets, followed by Bets Hendricks, who always
walked a little behind him, and to whom he often called,
" Come along, Bets; " or he lay drunk under a tree, or in
dulged in some more exciting occupation, like rolling down
Jackstraw hill on an empty barrel.
He and Bets used to wander around together, she carry
ing a load of baskets, which they sold at the farm-houses,
he, the violin. They often found work in rebottoming the
chairs, and when the work was done, and the bread and
cider disposed of Gigger or Bets would dehght the children
by getting what music they could from the old fiddle.

THE LAST OF THE NIPMUCKS. ,75
The last years of their lives Gigger and Bets spent in
Worcester, building a hut very near the Boston & Albany
railroad, not far from the spot where Hon. E. L. Davis
has lately erected a stone tower. From this house they
took their last spree, — going into the city, where they freely
indulged in rum, and returning late at night in a driving
snow-storm. When the storm was over, the farmers went
out with their ploughs to break out the road. A bit of
calico sticking up in the snow proved to be part of Bets'
dress. Farther on — as usual, a little ahead of his wife —
they found Gigger's body, — both frozen to death within
sight of their home.
There was a family of Indians living on John Belknap's
old place at Rocklawn, in a. kind of dug-out in the side of
the hill. It was enclosed by stone walls, covered by sods,
with grass growing on the roof The door was about four
feet square.
There was also an Indian and his wife, who lived on an
island in " the swamp," named Francis. His hut was
reached by a rude bridge of logs. He died of consump
tion, one night, and in the morning his wife found her way
alone to Mr. Pierpont Brigham's, tokl how he died with
his head in her lap, and begged that he might have a
funeral like the white people. The neighbors went to the
isjand, brought away the body, and the funeral was' held in
front of Mr. Brigham's house.

176

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

Lydia Francis belonged to this same family. She was an
especial terror to the children, for she was known to carry
a large butcher's knife concealed under her shawl, and she
was followed by a big brindle dog, as ugly as his
mistress. This family of Francis were not the only persons choos
ing their building lots in Cedar swamp. There is an
island in the swamp, known for many years as Garfield's
island. It is a tradition that a man named Parmenter
Garfield used to live alone on this place, and a cellar stiU
marks the site of his house. In October, 1780, Mr. Park-
man writes: " P.'M. Mr. Eb'' Forbush conducted me to y'
thick swamp where is y" hideous dwelling of Jacob Gar
field, and I went in, tho w"' difficulty, to see it. Garfield
himself led my horse out."
One of the most interesting Indian relics is on the old
Johnson farm, now owned by Mr. Daniel Ruggles. This
is a large cave, made by its aboriginal owners into two
rooms. In one of them was a well-constructed fireplace.
Many years ago it was struck by lightning. It is still occa
sionally frequented by strolling Indians, as is shown by
bows and arrows and other material left by them.
Besides the Indians already mentioned, who made their
home in this town eighty or ninety years ago, there were
many from neighboring towns who spent more or less of

THE LAST OF THE NIPMUCKS. 177
their time here. The most celebrated of all the later
Hassanamiscoes is Sarah Boston, — a gigantic Indian
woman, said to have been the last lineal descendant of
King Phihp. She often went by the name of Sarah
Phillips, her father's name having been Boston Phillips.
She is described as weighing nearly three hundred, and
being very tall ; indeed, as one good old lady said, " as tall
as Dr. Harvey." Her father is said to have been a slave,
who, like many of the slave men, married a free Indian
woman to ensure the freedom of his children. Her house
was in Grafton, on Keith hill, where her cellar and door-
stone may still be seen, on the farm of Mr. David L. Fiske.
She had a brother, Ben Boston, as large as herself who
lived with her. He died in Worcester years after her death.
She wore, usually, short skirts, which once might have
been a bright yellow, red, or blue, but which always seemed
to have grown the same dingy color before they came into
her possession ; spencers, the latter being an article of
clothing worn by men in those days ; men's boots and hats ;
and if the weather was very severe, a homespun bed-blanket
over all. She wandered about the country, in one place
helping the farmer with his work, and receiving her pay
in cider. In times of extra work she was considered a
very desirable " hand," and the heaviest work was left for
her to do. In another place she sold her baskets ; in

178

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

another, where there were young people, she told their
fortunes, taking each one alone into a closed room, and
peering intently into a cup of tea. Like all the Indians
of that day, she drank whenever she had a chance ; and it
was a favorite remark of hers, " The more I drink, the
drier I am."
It was not only the young children who stood in awe of
her. Many of the strongest men, who had incurred her
ill-will, turned aside when they saw her coming. She was
in Worcester one day, when a man driving along com
manded her roughly and insolently to get out of his way.
She sprang upon the wheel of his carriage, jumped into the
empty seat by his side, and would not get down until
he had driven her as long as she pleased through the
streets of the town.
A lady now living in Grafton was an eye-witness of
her fury one time, when Capt. Joshua Harrington and
Capt. Charles Brigham were riding together on South
street in Grafton. She lay in the road, and Captain Har
rington suggested driving over her. Captain Brigham got
out of the wagon, and moved her to one side. She was
not too drunk to resent the proposed injury, and sprang
towards the carriage, and would have pulled out Captain
Harrington — a man who weighed two hundred — had not
the other captain held him in. After this she was a firm
friend of Captain Brigham and his family.

THE LAST OF THE NIPMUCKS. 179
The children in every town were afraid of her. Once
she broke up a party of young people at Piccadilly. The
father and mother were away, and the children were in the
midst of their festivities, when in stalked Sarah Boston,
attired in her usual boots, skirts, and coat. The young
guests scattered to their homes, leaving the hostess to
entertain her latest visitor as best she might.
Of Sarah Boston's home-life we know but little. She took
pride in her small bit of garden ; and among the things she
tended was a fine cherry-tree, bearing large, handsome heart-
cherries, while most of her neighbors had the sour red
Morellos. The boys of the town considered her tree com
mon property, and year after year came, just as the fruit
began to ripen, and stripped the tree. One year it bore an
especially heavy crop ; but when the boys were anxiously
watching for the first suggestion of red, the sound of an axe
was heard, and a neighbor passing by saw Sarah with swing
ing blows cutting down her heavily loaded tree.
" Well, Sallie," he asked, " what is the matter with that
tree?" " It shades the house," she answered ; " I can't see to read
my Bible."
One night a party of young men, out on a good time,
were passing the old cemetery in Grafton. Their ideas of
wit, somewhat confused by liquor, suggested their knocking

J go THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
loudly on the wooden gate, and calling out: "Arise, ye
dead, and come to judgment." Slowly from one of the
graves the immense form of Sarah Boston stretched itself up.
Saying, "Yes, Lord ; I am coming," she started in their direc
tion. The young men, well-nigh paralyzed with fear, stum
bled into their wagon, and, lashing their horse into a furious
run, did not look behind them until safe in their own homes.
Not many years afterwards she was laid to rest in this old
cemetery, to rise no more at the idle call of boys. At the
dawning of the judgment day she maj- be among the first to
answer, " Yes, Lord ; I am coming."
Of the Hassanamiscoes there is now no representative
living in Westborough. In Grafton, there is one family. All
the other lands reserved for the Indians have passed into the
hands of the whites ; but the daughters of Harry Arnold
— the granddaughters of Lucy Gimbee — still own, on Brig
ham hill, two and a half acres of land and a small house,
built originally for their grandmother, and since enlarged.
Here one of them, Sarah Maria Cisco, lives, and receives the
two hundred dollars a year granted her by the State. Hers
is the only land in the town, if not in the State, which
has never passed out of the hands of the Hassanamiscoes.
She is now seventy years old, is partially of colored blood.
Her husband is partly colored and partly of the Narragansett
tribe. They have several children.

THE LAST OF THE NIPMUCKS.

I8l

There is probably no one living to-day of unmixed Has
sanamisco blood.
The Indian burying-ground in Grafton is a few rods from
the residence of Fred. Jourdan, on the Farnumville road, in
a field belonging to the old Whipple farm. Many of the

-,.'T--:i'-«ll, .rrrc

jMi\,

O Seo H ov.'ie-

graves, marked at the head and foot with a rough stone, are
plainly visible. Gorgeous with thistle and golden-rod, bathed
in sunlight, this slope, for more than a hundred summers,
has realized the Nipmucks' ideal resting-place.
Near the cemetery there is still pointed out the site of the
first church founded by Eliot for the Indians more than two
hundred years ago.
There were two other towns of praying Indians in the

1 82 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
immediate vicinity of Westborough, — one at Hopkinton,
formed of the Magunkooks ; the other at Marlborough, of
a branch of the Wamesits. Both these families of Indians,
as well as the Hassanamiscoes, belonged to the Nipmuck
tribe. They took these local names from the plantation
with which they were connected, and it was very common
for them to move their home from one place to another,
and even to live successively in each of the three towns.
Netus was a prominent man in each place. His first home
was in Grafton, where he was a friend to the whites ;
afterwards he was in Sudbury. In 1674 he was a ruler
at Natick, but the next year he was one of the Indians
who, with the three Jackstraws, were in the marauding
party that attacked Thomas Eames' house. He escaped
the fate of the Jackstraws by being killed by a party of
English soldiers, in Marlborough, March 2'], 1776. His
wife, accused of complicity in the assault, was sold into
slavery. The plantations at Hopkinton and Marlborough, like
that at Hassanamisco, were completely broken up by
King Philip's war; and after the close of the war very
few of the Indians returned. In 1790 the last of the
Magunkooks disappeared from Hopkinton. Whitehall
pond had been one of their favorite resorts, and, doubt
less, every hiding-place and cave in the ledges on Mr.

THE LAST OF THE NIPMUCKS. 183
Elbridge G. Rice's farm was known to them. On the way
from his house to the ledges, on the left of the path, is
a stretch of light, sandy soil now covered by a pine growth,
which a reliable tradition says was formerly the Indian
cornfield. In front of the house, in a large rock is a
depression probably once used by them as a mortar, and
near it was found a large rounded stone, its surface worn
smooth by grinding corn.
The name "Whitehall" appeared in the plan of the land
granted to Thomas Mayhew in 1647, the plan itself being
dated 1714. At one time part of the lowland near the
pond was called Black hall.
Some of the Wamesits came back to Marlborough and
settled near the borders of Wilhams' pond. The old
house of Peter Bent still stands ; it was on his farm that
these remnants of the Indians made their home. His
house is interesting from its great age, being about two
hundred years old, and from being buih by this first settler,
" one of the stern, staunch, sturdy, sensible old men of
his time, a second Massinissa, as his neighbors and col-
Teagues used to call him." (Dr. E. F. Barnes, Marlborough.)
These Indians buih their wigwams near some immense
chestnut-trees, one of which with its hollow trunk alone
remains. The field near by still goes by the name of
Wigwam yards. Among those returning after King

1 84

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

Philip's war was David Munnanow, who took an active
part in the burning of Medfield. He lived to an extreme
old age. Mr. Parkman, March 22, 1736-7, records a
visit he paid the old Indian, in these words : " Visited
old David Monanaow Indian. He tells me he was 104
last Indian Harvest. Says the name of Boston was not
Shawmut but Shawwawmuth, Chauncy Pond was called
Nawgawwoomcom." After he was found dead beneath his favorite apple-
tree, his son, Abimelech David, and his granddaughters,
who, in the not unusual Indian fashion, adopted their
father's first name for a surname, lived in the same location.
Among the daughters were Sue, Deborah, Esther, Patience,
Nabby, and Betty. Writing after the great snow-storm of
January, 1780, Mr. Parkman says, "Hear y' Sue Bimelech
was lately frozen to death."
The family gradually disappeared, and but few alive
to-day can remember the time when there were Indians
in Marlborough.
Not far from here, but nearer to Westborough, on the south
road from Northborough to Marlborough, is the burying-'
ground of these Wamesits. It is on the right-hand side of
the road, nearly opposite a house and small shop owned by
Mr. Bispham. Entering a pair of bars just beyond his
house, a short lane brings us to a large . field with an

THE LAST OF THE NIPMUCKS.

185

apple-tree in the centre. It is a sunny slope, about one
hundred and fifty by five hundred feet. In the centre is
a raised mound seventy-five by twenty-five feet. On the
lower edge and one end of the field is still very plainly
to be seen a raised embankment, which probably once
extended all around the lot. But there is now no trace of
graves, and no one who has dug into the various mounds
has been so fortunate as to find any remains of these
first inhabitants.

J 86 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

CHAPTER X.
SOCIAL CUSTOMS.
jHEN there was no longer fear of hostile Indians,
and the old ways and paths gave place to " great
roads," a new element sprang up in the social life
of New England. This was a class of people composed partly
of the last degraded specimens of the Indians, partly of
those who had once been slaves, and were suddenly released
from their bondage, and partly of persons of American birth
and education, whose tastes and capabilities fitted them for
no other kind of life.
They travelled from house to house, seeking a night's
lodging before some friendly fire, and whatever ihight be
offered them of food, cider, or rum. Unlike our modern
tramps, there was nothing transient about them. They came
again and again to the same door. Many, like " Lady Park-
man," the wife of Breck, the handsome store-keeper,
always treated them with dignity and respect, ministered to
their wants, gave them sympathy and advice, and when ill,
mixed up for them a. beneficial draught of molasses, cider,
and red pepper.

SOCIAL CUSTOMS. 1 87
It was the custom in many families to leave the doors
unlocked all night, so that these wanderers could come in
at any time and enjoy the comfort of a warm kitchen. Nor
was it unusual, when the housewife came down in the morn
ing, for her to find half a dozen Indians stretched out on the
floor, with their feet pointing to the fire.
These tramps, or, as they were then called, " old shacks,"
became town characters, carrying the news from one house
to another, welcomed o'ften by the farmers' wives as a relief
from the monotony of their daily work. The Indians were
mostly Hassanamiscoes, — those already mentioned, and
many others.
Those of New England birth were either shiftless charac
ters, like Ollan Barrett, the grandson of the Hopkinton min
ister, or still oftener the insane, to whom no State institution
offered care, and, when possible, cure. The crazy women,
especially, added to the picturesqueness of the scene, and
scarcely to the sadness, for most of them were full of happy
dreams of pleasure and grandeur, which the stern reality of
the early New England life made impossible to their more
highly favored sisters. Stories of these insane would easily
fill a volume : of Nabby Fessenden, a monomaniac on the
subject of bonnets ; of " Molly Green," who, when a young
girl, had lost her lover, a young man named Green, and who,
faithful to his memory, always wore something the color of

1 88 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
his name, and carried a sprig of green in her hand ; of
Nanny Beeton, whose lover was drowned at sea ; and of many
others. Among the slaves there is no family more universally
remembered than old Dinah's.
She was captured in Africa, branded with three straight
marks on her cheek, sold on the pier in Boston to Sir Harry
Frankland, who brought her to Hopkinton to work on his
farm. She went to England with the Franklands, and
returned with Lady Agnes. After slavery was done away
with in Massachusetts, .she came to Westborough, and lived
in a small house nearly opposite Rev. H. W. Fay's, with her
family, they working for Mr. Warren, then living on this
.place. She is remembered as short and stout, with snow-white
hair and blue eyes, always carrying a cane, and, in the season
of them, a bunch of wild-flowers. In the later years of her
life her mind was gone, and she talked to herself as she wan
dered around, oftenest about Lady Jane Grey. She was free
to go where she pleased, receiving a welcome even in the
room where the new baby lay ; and being allowed to take it
in her arms and clasp it to her bosom, forgetting she was not
a young mother herself and the wee white child her own
little one.
0. W. Holmes, in " Agnes," speaks of her as —

SOCIAL CUSTOMS. 1 89
"Black Dinah, stolen when a child.
And sold on Boston pier.
Grown up in service, petted, spoiled."
She had three children, born in slavery, all brought up on
the Frankland place. One of them was destined to achieve
a more than local reputation. This was Dick Potter, the
ventriloquist. J. G. Saxe has made him the subject of a
poem, part of which is_ here given : —
"THE GREAT MAGICIAN.
" Once, when a lad, it -was my hap
To gain my mother's kind permission
To go and see a foreign chap.
Who called himself the great magician.
" I recollect his wondrous skill
In divers mystic conjurations.
And how the fellow wrought at will
The most prodigious transformations.
" I recollect the nervous man,
¦Within whose hat the great deceiver
Broke eggs, as in a frying-pan,
And took them smoking from the beaver.
" I recollect the lady's shawl
Which the magician rent asunder
And then restored ; but, best of all,
I recollect the ribbon wonder.

J90 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
"I ne'er shall see another show
To rank with the immortal Potter's;
He's dead and buried long ago,
And others charm our sons and daughters."
Potter's trick with the fried eggs was one he often per
formed in town. Asking some one for a tall hat, he broke
into it half a dozen eggs, and allowed the audience to
see them hissing and sputtering, as much at .home as if they
were in the usual frying-pan. He then passed them around,
in the manner of a modern cooking-school, for each person
to have a taste, and returned the hat unspotted to the owner.
In his audience one day was Joel Andrews, one of the
sturdy old farmers of Westborough. He had but little faith
in Potter's tricks, and, standing up in the tavern hall, he com
menced to criticise the great conjurer. Potter turned quickly
to him, saying, " You want some new potatoes, don't you?"
" Don't know as I do," answered Andrews, determined not
to be tricked.
" Well," he said, walking up to him, " you've got some ; "
and he commenced revolving his hands one over the other
in front of Joel's face, and apparently extracting from some
portion of the farmer's physiognomy old-fashioned potatoes,
called in those days Long Johns. Joel moved away, but
Potter followed, still producing the Long Johns, until the
farmer, frightened, but believing, left the hall.

SOCIAL CUSTOMS. jgj
Potter, hke many others, took the stage name of Signor
Blitz, and gave entertainments all over the country, often
returning to his old home, where the large dance-halls in the
taverns at Piccadilly and Wessonville were crowded by eager
audiences. Handbills announced his coming, and an admis
sion of twenty-five cents was charged.
Dinah's daughter " Siddie," a famous maker of wedding-
cake in her day, lived in Westborough many years, — first as
Mrs. Gibson, in the house where E. J. Stone now lives in
Piccadilly; and afterwards as the wife of Jerry Monday, or, as
he preferred to be called, Jerry Norcross, in a small house at
Wessonville, which Mr. Wesson built for them.
Another daughter was Julia, a mulatto, who married John
Pritlow, of Boston; but in 1820, when she was past forty, she
returned to Westborough, and lived in Mr. Wesson's family.
She had one daughter who stayed in Boston, but came to her
mother's home to die. Julia married for her second husband
Jonas Titus, who for some reason was not invited to be
among the chief mourners at his brother-in-law Gibson's
funeral, and made the one remark which is now remem
bered of him, " The next time he dies he may go without
mourners." O. W. Holmes, in his poem, " Agnes," thus refers to
Julia : -

JQ2 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
" Go see old Julia, born a slave
Beneath Sir Harry's roof.
She told me half that I have told ;
And she remembers well
The mansion as it looked of old
Before its glories fell."
Jonas Titus had a brother. Primus, once a slave in Framing
ham, — perhaps the Primus owned by Aaron Pike, and bap
tized in 1 744. He was a great character in his way, " a clever
old fellow," bent nearly double. He was the one who rode
over to a muster in Framingham, with a woman on a pillion
behind him. She fell off, and a movement of Primus' dis
closed the fact that he had on a shirt-bosom, but no shirt.
The bystanders asked him why he didn't wear one.
"Why," he answered, " I've got. a dozen biled shirts at
home, but I hadn't time to put one on."
Of the slaves owned in Westborough, none, if living, seem
to have made their home here, after the beginning of the
century. There were two Southern slaves who for a num
ber of years lived on the Blake place, now in the possession
of Miss Fanny Smith. They had been owned in the South
by a brother of Eli Whitney, the inventor. When he sold
his plantation, he sent them to his sister, Mrs. Blake, prob
ably first giving them their freedom. They were called "Old
Nanny " and " Baton Shipworth."

SOCIAL CUSTOMS. 593
Bathaba was owned by Mr. John Corbett, of Mendon ;
but in times of extra work she was often lent to his brother,
Mr. Elijah Corbett, then living in Westborough, where the
J. A. Parker cider-mill now is. She is still remembered here
as " Old Bath."
Mr. Parkman's boy Maro, we have already seen, died soon
after coming here
Mr. Parkman, in his journal, speaks, in 1726, of " Mr. O.
Ward's Rocket and horse " coming over to help his hired
man Robert weed the corn. Mr. Oliver Ward lived on West
Main street, on the James McTaggart place.
Mr. James Bowman, who lived on the Upton road, beyond
No. 5 school-house, owned a slave, Vilot. She was a favor
ite with all, being a privileged person in the house. One
night a young man who was visiting there had a severe
toothache, and Vilot was called up to take care of him. In
the morning some one asked her if she felt tired. " Ho, hum,"
she answered, " it's a long time since I've sat up with a young
man." The three slaves owned by Stephen Maynard were sold to
go South.
The style of dress a century ago, especially for men, was
very different from that of to-day. At the beginning of the
nineteenth century the men still wore their hair long, or tied
in a club-queue ; their coats were broad-tailed, their hats low-

194 '^^^ HUNDREDTH TOWN.
crowned and broad-brimmed ; they had shoe-buckles, knee-
buckles, and long stockings, usually home-made, of a mixed
blue wool, though the parson often had them of linen or silk.
Among the older men, cocked hats and long queues were
seen, and ruffles at the wrist.
In 1787, after the death of Jacob Broaders, grandfather of
Hiram Broaders, Moses Wheelock, the " Vendeu Mas
ter," rendered the following account of the disposal of his
clothing, probably not unlike that of most country gentle
men of his day. The name of the purchaser is first given : —
" Edward Cobb, Great Coat for twenty-five shillings.
Shadrach Miller, Velvet Wastcoat for 17 shillings.
Stephen Maynard 3d Blue coat for 24 "
Calvin Rice Red coat for thirty-two "
Amasa Maynard Red pr. Breaches for 14 "
Timothy Warren, Blue waistcoat 2/6.
Hollan Maynard, White waistcoat for 3/2
Calvin Rice, White pr. WooUin Stockings 2/7.
Simeon Bellows pr. Woolling Stockings. 2/8."
Besides these things, the judge allowed the widow to take —
" An old fine shirt 3/6.
I pr. Silver Shoe Buckles. 14/6
One pair of Silver knee buckles. 5/6
One pair Silver Sleeve Buttons is."

SOCIAL CUSTOMS. 1 95
Mr. Parkman occasionally makes some reference to his
dress, as on February 27, 1779: " Mrs. P. has made up my
Camlet Gown, lind with Green Baize!' She evidently
bought enough green baize for two garments, for he writes
a few days after, March 4: "Mrs. P  disposes of ye
Baise Lining (designd lining of a New Red, homespun,
Camblit gown for Elias) to Ebenez'' and with ye Money &
some addition (y' is of 34S) purchases yds. of Bear
skin to make him (Elias) a Straight-bodyd coat." " Cam
let " was a thin stuff, made of silk and camel's-hair ; the
homespun camlet was probably made from wool.
On Sundays, attired in their best, the men walked, some
times driving in their farm-wagons, a very few in their
" pleasure-carriages," to the church, stopped in the porch
to chat with each other, then went in, seated themselves in
the roomy square pews, whose capacity was usually in
creased by the addition of one or two kitchen chairs, hung
up their hats on the pillars supporting the galleries, and
gave their earnest attention to a sermon an hour or two long.
The women in winter wore heavy cloaks of homespun,
sometimes richer ones, interlined with wool or down. They
brought their tiny yellow foot-stoves, and at noon replen
ished them at Mr. Parkman's generous fireplaces.
But summer was the gala-time in the " old Arcade," when
the women came in their freshly laundried calicoes or

196

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

chintzes, or in their stiff, rustling silks. Nearly every one
carried in her hand a bit of a bouquet, — a white rose, or a
few pinks tied up with a sprig of caraway
seed ; the latter being supposed to help keep
them awake, the flowers to be held in their
hands, and passed from one to another. Mrs.
Barechias Morse carried the biggest bouquet
of them all, of lilacs or roses, or the rarer
sweet-william. Her dress was of the nicest silk ;
•and behind her came her son Elisha, with the
longest queue of any young man in church.
There was con
siderable sen
sation one Sun
day as Elisha
Morse walked
dignified and
erect down the
aisle, when one
of the mis
chievous girls
caught his queue and brought him to an abrupt and un
dignified standstill.
The women's dresses were straight and scant, with no
gathers in front, until about the second decade of the

SOCIAL CUSTOMS.

197

present century, when the fashionable dress-makers com
menced to put in a very few, — an innovation which met
with small favor among the girls. On their hands they wore
home-made knitted mitts reaching to the elbows.
Pins were a luxury, and do not appear in the store-bills. In
place of them, each family had a thorn-bush, planted usually
near the front-door, — a convenient pin-cushion. When the
wealthiest people indulged in the luxury of a real pin-cushion,
they made it a work of art, perhaps a bit of embroidered
tapestry, and hung it up on the wall, like_ a picture. It
was considered none too good for the few hand-made pins.
We get a little idea of the wardrobe of a well-to-do
middle-aged lady from an "% of articales.appresed as the
proppers of Persis B. Marble's late of Northboro'." This
auction took place January 2, 1826. Her wearing apparel
was as follows : —

¦" I bombazine gound. $5
I silk dito ... $3
I old Bombazine dito 2
I Bombazett " N. .2
I Gingam " I
2 old Ginghams " i
I Pehse  4
I Grate Coat ... 6

50
7550

I Habbit ... .3.
I Remnant of washing
cloth  3

I Wooling Shall . . 2
I Mantle  i
2 prs. Shoes ... i
3 scurts  3
3 crape Handkerchiefs

25 50

75

THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.

I silk apehorn &Ladis'
Bag . . .

4 caps .... I .
3 prs. gloves, n. . . 1.25
5 Knight Gouns . . 2.
3 wasts & shirts . . 2
2 yds. Bombazett . . .50
I Scurt & 2 apehorns .75

.70

2 pocket Handker
chiefs  80
2 silk dito .... 1.50
2 prs. silk stockings . 2.
8 prs. dito . . . 3.
I comb  30
I Bonnet, Veil & Bow i.io"

A young mother preparing her baby's layette bought dif
ferent materials, and made them differently from one in the
same station of life now. In her drawer were the long
flannel bands, to .be fastened as tightly as possible around the
delicate little body; the dainty white shirts, low-necked
and short-sleeved, with a bit of delicately wrought hand
embroidery on the piece turned down in front and back ; a
pile of small white muslin caps, — for the baby's head must
be covered, though neck and arms went bare ; long skirts
of bright, yellow flannel, sometimes finely striped with black ;
foot-blankets, of the same colour ; and a goodly supply of
small-figured calico dresses. In a drawer by itself lay the
christening robe, the one white dress, as rich and elaborate
as the mother's purse could afford, or her skilful fingers
devise. With it was the one white skirt and white blanket.
Sometimes, prepared for this same occasion, was the christen-

SOCIAL CUSTOMS. 1 99
ing apron, to be worn by the mother, of heavy white silk,
hkewise embroidered by her own hand. This apron was
used only when her babies were baptized, but even then it
sometimes chanced that it was worn out in the service.
Among the more important social events were the funer
als. Nearly every one in town went. Prayers were held
at the house, toddy was passed, each one drinking from the
same large toddy-tumbler; after which they either went di
rectly to the grave or to the church, — the old Arcade, where,
if in summer, the closed coffin was placed under the elm-tree
in front, which was planted when the Arcade was built. The
friends went into the church and listened to the readings and
prayers. When they came out, the coffin-lid was raised, to
give them a last look at their friend.
There was no hearse in Westborough until 1801. Before
that time, the body was carried, often for a long distance, on
a bier, — a long-handlad stretcher. There were twelve or
more bearers, who relieved each other on the way.
Over the coffin was thrown the burying-cloth, — the one
owned by this town costing two pounds. It was of heavy
black material, with an immense tassel at each corner. The
first hearse in town was a platform of slats with four wheels,
drawn by one horse.
The coffin was made by the village carpenter, costing from
two dollars and a half to three dollars and a half They

200 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
were usually stained red, though sometimes, especially in
the case of colored persons, a black one was seen. There
was no lining, and the initials and date were either written
on a card, fastened on to the coffin, or .made with brass-
headed nails. This lettering was often done by Dr. Hawes'
son, James Hawes, Jr. For lettering one, " P. G. ^ 76" he
charged thirty-three cents.
When Ensign Daniel Bartlett died, in the old Goodenow
house in Northborough, in 1764, there were distributed at his
funeral nineteen pairs of black gloves, eighteen pairs of white
gloves, twelve black gauze handkerchiefs, and other articles,
amounting in all to seventy-six pounds and seven shillings.
It was customary to give black gloves to the bearers.
Rings and other jewelry were left on the body until after
the funeral, then removed by the friends.
In January, 1780, Mr. Daniel Forbes was very ill. This
was the year of the famous snow-storm ; for several days it
had raged with violence; the cold was intense. The few
who ventured to the sanctuary on Sunday came on rackets,
and gathered at noon around Mr. Parkman's kitchen fire.
The snow was too deep for Mr. Parkman, who had no rack
ets, to venture as far as Mr. Forbes' house, which was on
Jackstraw hill. The cellar in the pasture owned by Mrs. C.
W. Forbes still marks the site. A company of eight young
men drew his two daughters on a hand-sled to see him

SOCIAL CUSTOMS. 20I
before he died. Mr. Parkman writes : " My Heart is much
with him." He lived only two days after this, and the next
day, January 14, Mr. Parkman writes the following account
of his funeral : " Squire Baker and two or three Hands with
him, w" soon increased to half a doz. drew me on a sled to
the House of Mourning. It was sharp cold, ye Wind Pierc
ing, ye Sled goes over ye Tops of Walls and Fences. Tho' it
was very difficult to get there, yet y' were many people — as
it is said he died happily, so he was buried honourably 8l g"
Respect shown to his Remains. . . . There were so
many persons with snow-shoes, y' y'''^ was a good Path & ye
Corps was carried on a Bier, on Men's Shoulders. I was
drawn by a number of Rackett men, in a very handsome
Sleigh, with ye Widow, Mrs. Abigail Forbush & her sister
Mrs. Dinah Bond. It was too tedious for me to stay at the
grave, I came away before the Coffin was let down — by
that time I got to Breck's stove I was nigh overcome, by one
means & another. The Mourners, Bearers &c. come to my
House to hear the Will. Dr. Hawes read it."
A plain slate stone, just back of the soldiers' monument
in Memorial cemetery, still marks the spot where, with deep
sorrow and great respect, this strange funeral procession
halted, and laid the honored remains in their last resting-
place. When Peter Whitney was pastor of the Northborough

202 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
church, he made, without due consultation with its members,
some changes in the covenant. This displeased some of the
people, among them John Ball, who lived near the top of
Ball hill. His relations with Mr. Whitney, from this time,
were far from pleasant. About the close of the century, Mr.
Ball's mother died. Determined that Parson Whitney should
have nothing to do with the funeral, he sent to Boylston for
Rev. Mr. Fairbanks.
Mr. Whitney and his wife, at the appointed time, started
for Mr. Ball's house ; but it was early spring, and the roads
were well-nigh impassable. His chaise stuck fast in the
mud, and the most strenuous efforts could not Telease them
in time for the funeral.
He finally arrived ; but Mr. Fairbanks was already on the
field, and the services had commenced. Taking him one
side, Mr. Whitney positively forbade his proceeding.
" You forbid him? " asked Mr. Ball.
" Yes, sir," firmly answered Mr. Whitney.
" Then there shall be no services," he replied.
Mr. Whitney protested that he would himself offer prayer;
but Mr. BaU said, "No; not in this house."
Mr. Whitney then proceeded to the door-step ; but here
Mr. BaU followed him, — there would be no prayer on his
door-step. " Then I shall pray on the farm," declared the priest.

SOCIAL CUSTOMS. 203
" Not on my farm," answered Mr. BaU.
And so the funeral procession started, and the old lady
was laid to rest with no prayer or word of comfort for her
sorrowing friends.
As they turned away from the graveyard, the church bell
tolled out its summons, and some went in to the services
conducted by Mr. Whitney in his own church, where John
Ball had no right to forbid them. After this time, he had no
further dealings with the Rev. Mr. Fairbanks.
A few years later, in 1801, John Ball himself died, his
feud with Parson Whitney still unsettled. His widow in
vited Rev. Air. Puffer, of Berlin, to attend the funeral ; and
after consulting Mr. Whitney, through Deacon Davis, and
supposing it would not be objectionable to him, Mr. Puffer,
partly against his own judgment, yielded to the widow's
tears. A few days after the funeral he received a brief note from
Mr. Whitney, saying, in substance, that it was his request
that Mr. Puffer should never presume to set his foot in North
borough for any ministerial service, as long as he himself was
there, and able to perform it.
A long letter from Mr. Puffer, telling of his extreme care
not to give offence to Mr. Whitney, and of his understanding
from Deacon Davis that his attending Mr. Ball's funeral
would be the cause of no hard feeling, concluded this contro-

204 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
versy. Mr. Whitney wrote that his explanation was so far
satisfactory that their friendship was restored to its old foot
ing, and invited Parson Puffer to dine with him in the North
borough parsonage.
This parsonage, built by Mr. Whitney, in 1780, still stands,
on the first Berlin road, not far beyond the Unitarian church.
The location was that chosen by Nathaniel Oakes for his
farm. At his house were the first religious services held in
Northborough, before the separation of the town. The first
pastor. Rev. Mr. Martyn, occupied the place ; Mr. Whitney
had it from him, and while he was living there the old house
was burned.
Westborough probably had its share of social entertaii;-
ments, — -quiltings, apple -bees, barn-raisings, etc., — but very
few accounts of them have been preserved.
We have had glimpses, in the journal of Anna Sophia
Parkman, of many quiet little times, — of coffee-drinkings,
afternoon teas, and singing-schools. Her father used to go
to the barn-raisings, and knew how to lend a strong hand to
the work. In 1724 he writes: "I rode as far as Mr.
Tainter's to raising his Barn. It was a pleasant time, but
not all together with all our Trouble and Toil." Mr. Tainter
lived on the Cyrus Wadsworth homestead.
Another time he writes : —
"June 3, 1779. At Eve, but before sunsetting, I by

SOCIAL CUSTOMS. 205
request of Mr. Sam'. Forbush went to his House. He has
been raising a new Barn & moving part of an old One. I
was at their supper; after w" we Sung part of Ps. 1 12."
The singing of psalms was an important part of many
social gatherings. When Mr. Whitney's new parsonage was
raised, in 1780, where they had "an excellent frame and a
great company," they sang the one hundred and twenty-
seventh psalm, —
"If God to build the house deny.
The builders work in vain ;
And towms, without his wakeful eye,
A useless watch maintain.''
Often the dinners and teas were concluded in this way,
and even the huskings. Mr. Parkman writes of the gather-
ing-in of his harvest, in 1779 : —
"Oct. II. This day we cutt up carted home and huhed
out ye Indian corn. Ephr"". Parker went with my team, &
Deacon Wood with his, about nine dined here. There were
forty or more of men and boys at Eve and Several Neighb'''
were so generous as to contribute to the entertain""*. Squire
Baker about 50 lbs. of meat. Mr. Eb'' Forbes Beef Lt. Bond
Pork, Mr. Barn, Newton, a Cheese, Breck sufficient Rum.
Thro' the gift of God we had a good Crop, Sound Corn & ye
Joy. of Harvest. To Him be aU Honor and Glory ! Eve,
sang latter part of Ps. 65."

2o6 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
" The softened ridges of the field
Permit the corn to spring;
The valleys rich provision yield,
And the poor lab'rers sing."
Good, Strong West India rum was usually served at
social gatherings. At weddings, there was wine in small
glasses, and pound-cake. In the early part of this century,
ladies' tea-parties were all the rage, and punch was the
favorite drink in summer; in winter, "flip.'' Flip was
made of beer, a beaten egg added, the two stirred together
with a red-hot "loggerhead," and last of all, just before
serving, a little rum or whiskey was poured in.
A very fashionable beverage was " mulled wine." It
was made very acceptably for many years at the famous
Brigham tavern, then standing where the Westborough
hotel does now. Since then the oldest part, formerly the
Gregory house, has been moved a little farther down
South street, and is now known as Union building.
It was made at the tavern from this recipe, furnished
by the landlord's wife, Mrs. Dexter Brigham : —
MULLED WINE.
One quart Madeira, boihng hot; one-half pint hot water;
six eggs, beaten light ; sugar to taste.
The children of the town met at stated intervals in the

SOCIAL CUSTOMS. 207
church, and recited their catechism, studied diligently
every Sunday from the old New England primer. Mr.
Parkman notes in his journal, " Catechised at ye Meeting-
House A.M. 32 Boys, p.m. 23 Girls. May a blessing
accompy my instruction and Warngs to them of each
Sex ! "
The meeting-house in those days, as well as the cemetery,
was surrounded by an old-fa.shioned country fence, which
kept out more or less effectually the swine, — which the
town year after year voted to let "goo at large," — the cattle,
and sheep. It seems to have been Mr. Parkman's work to
see that these fences were kept repaired, and his privilege
to make such use of the land as he could. Recording the
arrival of some guests, May 11, 1779, he says: "Their
Horses are put into the Burying Place ; our Hay being
gone." Most of the houses in town were unpainted. Mr. Park-
man's was probably red, as that was the color of the
front fence.
Sometimes the people of the town gave the minister a
donation party. An account of such a one at Rev. Peter
Whitney's, in Northborough, was printed in the " Massachu
setts Gazette," Oct. 5, 1769. It is in these words : " The good
women of Northborough, zealous of emulation, yea, ambi
tious of excelling their sisters in other towns, agreed to spin

2o8 THE HUNDREDTH TOWN.
what each should please, and appointed a day at which to meet
at the house of Rev. Mr. Whitney, to present him and his
consort with what each had spun for that end. Accordingly,
on the day appointed, they assembled at the house of their
minister, about three o'clock in the afternoon, bringing with
them the fruit of their Labours and Industry. Upon com
puting the linen, tow and cotton, there were 2223 knots,
besides a linen sheet and two towels, all of which they gen
erously gave to their reverend pastor. The number of the
women was Forty-four. It is presumed that this act of gen
erosity much exceeds what any other people have done for
their minister in this way, that we have heard of; especially
will it be thought so when the smallness of the place, the
fewness of its members, that this was spun at their own
houses, and out of their own materials, are all considered."
In the early days of the settlement of the town, most of
the marriages, if not all, were solemnized by Mr. Parkman.
Afterwards it became a common custom for the bridal couple
to walk arm-in-arm from the bride's home to the dwelling-
house of James Hawes, Justice of the Peace, where, in the
parlor, with few witnesses, the ceremony was performed by
him. In 1778, when currency was very much depreciated, Mr.
Parkman received from three to eight dollars for a marriage.
In 1779, soon after Mr. Daniel Forbes' funeral, and while

SOCIAL CUSTOMS. 209
the snow still rendered the roads nearly impassable, he
received an " urgent message" to go to Capt. Edmund Brig
ham's, who lived on the Southborough road near the bound
ary line, to marry Mr. Antipas Brigham. In his journal,
January 24, he writes: "I went, but with great difficulty
by reason of ye deep snow. My sons Breck and Elias drew
me on a light sled as far as Mr. HaskiU's " — this house
having ever since been owned by his descendants, the present
owner being Mr. Asa Haskell — "Nigh w''. a number of
young men, Brighams, accompanied me on foot to the house
w'''' I performed ye Solemnity. After supper, they bro't me to
Mr. Gale's, who kindly obliged me to lodge there." This was
the old Gale tavern, recently owned by Dennis Fitzpatrick.
The tradition of Mr. Parkman's ride to the wedding is still
preserved in the Brigham family, with some of the incidents
of the trip, — that the old minister lost his wig, and the
" racketmen " were at no small trouble to recover it ; but all
finally ended well.
Singing a psalm was usually part of the marriage -ser
vices. November 10, 1778, Mr. Parkman writes of an after
noon wedding, " went to Widow Bakers, ace. to Mr. An
drew's request. I marry'd y"". Supped & we sing Watts'
Ps. 128. 6 Doll."

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