TAVERN GHOSTS
England was ever the birthplace and abiding-place of ghosts. Thoroughly
respectable most of these old residents were, their manifestations being
stereotyped with all the conventionalities of the spirit world. When the
colonists came to the new world the friendly and familiar spectres did not
desert their old companions, but emigrated also, and "sett down satysfyed"
in enlarged log cabins, and houses built of American pine, just as the
planters did; and in these humbler domiciles both classes of inhabitants
were soon as much at home as they had been in oaken manor houses and stone
castles in the "ould countrie."
In New England the tavern was often the chosen place of abode and of
visitation of spirits; like other travellers on life's weary round, these
travellers on the round of the dead found their warmest welcome at an inn.
Naturally new conditions developed new phenomena; the spirits of unhappy
peasants, of cruel barons, of hated heirs at law, of lovelorn ladies,
found novel companions, among whom the manitous and wraiths of the red men
cut the strangest figure. The ghosts of pirates, too, were prime
favorites in America, especially in seaboard towns, but were never such
frequent visitors, nor on the whole such picturesque visitors, as were the
spirits of Indians:--
"The ghosts that come to haunt us
From the kingdom of Ponemah,
From the land of the Hereafter."
[Illustration: Sign-board of Dewey Tavern.]
I have known a good many tavern ghosts of Indians--though their deeds as
recounted are often far from being original or aboriginal. Reuben Jencks
owned a tavern that had a very good Indian ghost. This ghost was not one
of the inconsiderate kind that comes when you are awake, and half scares
you to death; this noble red man stole in silently by night, so silently
that the sleeper never awakened, and hence was never frightened, for
nothing seems overstrange, uncanny, or impossible in a dream. Even when
the Indian brandished his tomahawk and seized the visited one by the hair
of the head, it never seemed to be anything more than might be expected,
nor did he ever appear overfierce in his threats and gestures.
Nevertheless in course of time his appearances gave a name to the
apartment he visited; it came to be known as the Indian Chamber. And
travelling chapmen, pedlers, or traders who had been over the route
frequently, and had heard the tale at every trip, sometimes objected to
sleeping in the room--not that they were afraid--but it was somewhat of a
nuisance.
It was not known that any Indian ever had received aught of injury at the
hands of any at the Black Horse Tavern, save the derivative injury from
too frequent and liberal draughts of hard cider, which was freely dealt
out to every sorry brave who wandered there. There were some simpletons
who said that the Indian's visits were to resent the injury done to
another old inn, a rival down the road, named The Pine Tree, but which
bore the figure of an Indian on its sign-board, and was oftener known as
The Indian Tavern. This was nonsense. The Pine Tree had no visitors
because it did not deserve them, had a vile table and a worse stable,
while the Black Horse Tavern gave the best of the earth to its guests.
Reuben Jencks had not been born in this tavern. He inherited it from an
uncle, and he was already married and had a family of small children when
the tavern came to him. Another baby was born soon after, and as the
Indian Chamber was the largest in the house, Mrs. Jencks quietly disposed
of the objections of timid and superstitious chapmen and pedlers by taking
the room for her own sleeping apartment.
It would seem to be a brave warrior, albeit a savage and a ghost, who
would enter a room as densely populated as that of Mr. and Mrs. Jencks.
There was for the repose of landlord and landlady a vast four-post
bedstead with curtains, valance, and tester of white dimity; and under
this high bed was thrust by day a low trundle bed. At night it was drawn
out, and upon it slept the three little daughters of the Jencks family.
Upon an old high-backed settle set on rockers slept Reuben Jencks, Jr.,
the deposed king of the family. Adjustable bars slipped in the front of
this settle made it a safe crib. This stood on one side of the fireplace,
and the new baby reposed, when he slept at all, in a deeply hooded
mahogany cradle. There was a great fire ever and cheerfully burning in the
fireplace--and yet to this chamber of infantile innocence and comfort came
the saturnine form of the Indian ghost.
[Illustration: Cutter's Tavern Sign-board.]
He was, in one sense, a thoroughly satisfactory apparition, being suitably
clad in full trappings of war, buckskin and turkey feathers, bear's teeth
and paint; he was none of those miserable half-breed travesties of Indians
who sometimes still sneaked round to the tavern kitchen, clad in vile
clothes of civilization, so greasy and worn and dirty that a blanket
would have been as stately in comparison as a Roman toga; Indians devoid
of bravery, dignity, and even of cunning, whose laziness, high
cheek-bones, and hair coarse as a horse's tail, and their unvarying love
of rum, were the only proofs of Indian blood; whose skin, even, had turned
from copper tawny to dingy yellow.
To Mrs. Jencks, reposing in state among her abundant goose feathers on the
high bedstead, came one night the spectre in her dreams, pulled off her
nightcap, seized her by her long hair, dragged her downstairs and out of
doors, pointed fiercely to the roots of the great cedar at the gate,
muttering all the while in broken English of avenging an insult to his
race. As Mrs. Jencks awoke wholly uninjured, she merely laughed at her
vision, saying that all the talk she had heard had made her dream it. But
when she had dreamt it three times, three nights running, and the ghost
kept speaking of an act of insult to him, that it must be avenged,
removed, etc., and kept ever pointing to the base of the cedar tree, Ben
Jencks insisted on digging for what he felt sure was hidden treasure. He
and his menials dug deep and dug wide, and nearly killed the splendid old
cedar, but found nothing. The next time the ghost appeared he dragged the
astral body of Mrs. Jencks down to the other cedar tree on the right-hand
side of the gateway. Ben Jencks dug again with the same result. Neither he
nor the ghost was daunted, and a fine apple tree in the garden next the
orchard was the next victim. It was a Sapson apple tree, the variety
which all the children loved, and it ceased bearing for several years. As
it wilted and pined after the rough spading at its roots, Mrs. Jencks
doggedly vowed never to repeat any of the ghost's lies again.
[Illustration: Clock with Painting of Pahquoique House.]
We must not be too contemptuous of this unprincipled Indian spirit. He
simply belonged to a class of ghosts of whom Andrew Lang says
complainingly that they have a passion for pointing out places and saying
treasures or skeletons are buried within; whereas it always proves that
nothing of the sort is ever found. There are liars among the living as
well as of the dead, and Mrs. Jencks's Indian never said it was a
treasure--he only hinted darkly at the buried thing being associated with
some degradation or insult to the Indian race. The treasure was all in Ben
Jencks's brain--and the brains of his friends. Mrs. Jencks's silence to
her husband did not prevent her however from having several treasure-hunts
alone by herself, after the Indian's renewed visits and pointing finger,
for he changed nothing in his programme save the spot he indicated. She
spent an entire day pulling and poking among the attic rafters. She
rolled out several empty cider barrels from a distant cellar corner, and
even dug a hole there secretly. Her husband at last discovered her
mysteriously poking a hole down a disused well, and promptly had the well
cleaned out; but of course nothing was found save the usual well contents,
and thus the years rolled on.
One morning Lucy Jencks whimpered that the Indian had pulled her out of
bed in the night and pointed out to her where to hunt. Lucy was nearly
eleven years old; a clever, sharp, active little Yankee, who helped to
shell peas and string beans and scour pewter, and who could knit famously
and spin pretty well. This brought her naturally in the company of her
elders, and she proved the influence of the ghost talk she had heard by
repeating the Indian's words that "the derision of his ancient race, the
degradation of his ancient customs, must be avenged." Derision and
degradation are too big words for a little girl to use untutored, or for
an Indian ghost either; and in truth they were not the precise words he
had spoken at first. But Parson Pillsbury had been present at the digging
under the Sapson apple tree, a piously sceptical but secretly interested
spectator, and he had thus explained the somewhat broken "Injun-talk"
which Mrs. Jencks reported. It proves the tractability and intelligence of
this ghost of a heathen that he ever after used the words of the Puritan
minister.
The ghost pointed out to Lucy Jencks a very inaccessible spot to be
searched. It was the farther end of a loft over a shed, and had to be
entered by a short ladder from a leanto. This loft was packed solidly
with the accumulated debris of three-quarters of a century, portions of
farm tools, poor old furniture, boxes, barrels, every old stuff and piece
that was too mean even for the main attic, in which were poor enough
relics. It had never been searched or sorted out since Ben Jencks came to
the tavern, and I doubt whether Mrs. Jencks would have listened to a
ransacking then but for one circumstance, the Jencks family were going to
leave the Black House Tavern--and they really ought to know exactly what
was in it ere they sold it with its contents. They had not been driven
from the family home by this Indian spirit of dreams, but by a more
powerful spirit--that of emigration. Neighbors and friends in Rutland and
Worcester were going to Ohio--that strange new territory, and they would
go too. A single dead Indian, and such a liar, too, seemed of but little
account when they thought of the infinite bands of very live Indians in
their chosen home.
[Illustration: Wright Tavern, Concord, Massachusetts.]
Mrs. Jencks and Lucy climbed the ladder to the loft, opened the single
shutter, and let in a narrow dancing ray of dusty sunlight on the crowded
desolation within. Lucy pointed between bars and barrels and bags, with
slender white finger, at a large and remote box which a slender, strong,
copper-colored hand had pointed out to her in her dreams. Her mother
sternly sent her below to do her stent at quilt-piecing, and she tearfully
and unwillingly descended. It was nearly an hour ere the strong arms of
Mrs. Jencks had dislodged and repacked the unutterable chaos to the extent
of reaching the box. Clouds of dust dimmed the air. She untied and
removed a rotten rope that bound the box, which even in the dim litter
looked like the upper half of a coffin. Within lay something swathed in
linen bands and strips of old flannel--newspapers were then too precious
for wrappings. She struck it, and there came a faint rattle of metal. The
thought came to her of the description of a mummy which she had read a few
nights before in the almanac. She paused; then twisted in and among the
boxes to the head of the ladder. She could hear the sound of Perseverance
singing a hymn. Perseverance Abbott was the "help," the sister of a farmer
neighbor, and she was baking "rye and Injun" bread for the teamsters who
would stop there at nightfall. Mrs. Jencks called down, "Persy, come here
a minute!" "I'll tell her to come," piped up the shrill voice of Lucy, who
was hovering at the base of the ladder and evidently meant to be "in at
the death." Perseverance appeared, floury and serene, at the foot of the
ladder. "I'll come," she said, in answer to Mrs. Jencks's appeal for
assistance, "because I know you're scairt, and I ain't a-goin' to see Ben
Jencks a-huntin for them Indian bones again. I've been dyin', anyway, to
clear this out ever since I come here, an' this'll be the beginnin'."
"Persy," said Mrs. Jencks, hesitatingly, "it seems to be something dead."
"Dead!" answered her hand-maid, "I'll bet it's dead after layin' here
forty, perhaps a hundred year!" An atmosphere of good sense and
fearlessness seemed to halo her about; still both women unwrapped the
heavy thing, the mummy, with care. A bare shining scalp came first to
view. "It's a wig-block," shouted Perseverance in a moment, "yes, and
here's curling irons and wire wig-springs."
It was "grandpa's wig-block," so Reuben Jencks said, when he saw it later;
his grandfather had added to his duties of tavern-keeper, roadmaster,
selectman, and deacon, that of wig-maker. And in that day, when all men of
any station wore handsome flowing wigs, and all, even poor men, wore wigs
of some kind, it was a calling of importance. Moreover, an Indian with a
tomahawk cut but a sorry figure when he tried to scalp a man who wore a
wig; it was a deriding insult to the warlike customs of the whole Indian
race.
[Illustration: Sign-board of Moses Hill's Inn.]
There is a fine old brick tavern still standing in a New England seaboard
town, and now doing service as a rather disreputable road house. It is a
building rigidly square, set due north, south, east, and west, with four
long, narrow doors opening over broad door-stones to the four ends of the
earth. A long tail of summer and winter kitchens, a wash-room, brew-house,
smoke-house, wood-rooms, sheds, barns, piggeries, pigeon-houses,
hen-houses, once stretched a hundred feet or more adown the road, part of
which is now torn down. Each joint of the tail helped loyally in olden
times to furnish good cheer to the traveller. The great square rooms of
the main house are amply furnished; one was a taproom, and in each
second-story room still are two double beds, save in the corner room next
the kitchen tail of the house, where stands nailed firmly to the floor of
the room a somewhat battered oaken table. A little open staircase in the
corner of this room leads down to the working end of the house, and was
used in olden days to carry supplies to the upper table from the lower
kitchen.
It has been many a year since good cheer was spread on that broad oaken
board, though at one time it was the favorite dining place of a choice
brotherhood of old salts, called the Mariners' Club, who gathered there
when on shore to tell tales of wild privateering, and of sharp foreign
trade, and to plan new and profitable ventures. Many of these Mariners'
Clubs and Marine Societies existed in seaport towns at that golden time in
New England's marine commercial history.
[Illustration: Sign-board of John Nash's Tavern.]
This room was the scene about seventy-five years ago of a somewhat unusual
expression of feminine revolt--that is, both the expression and the revolt
were unusual. One of the most constant frequenters of the tavern, the
heaviest eater and deepest drinker, the greatest money-spender at these
Mariners' dinners, was one Captain Sam Blood, who ran a large coasting
brig, which made but short trips to Atlantic seaports. Thus he was ever
on hand for tavern fun. He had a large and rather helpless family which he
kept somewhat in retreat on a gloomy farm two miles inland; his mother old
and feeble, yet ever hard-working; a large number of untidy children, and,
worst of all, a sickly wife, a tall, gaunt woman who whined, and whined,
and ever whined from her patch-covered couch, over the frequent desertions
of her spouse to the tavern-table, and his wilful waste of money, while
she could never leave the house. One night a specially good dinner was set
in the Mariners' room, roast and boiled meats, pies and puddings, a grand
array of full pitchers, decanters, and bottles; the assembled group of old
salts were about to ascend from the taproom to seat themselves comfortably
at the round table for solid work, when a terrible crash and scream were
heard, each seeming louder than the other, and before the startled eyes of
the landlord and his guests, as they rushed up and into the room, there
were all the steaming dishes, all the streaming bottles, with table-cloth
and plates in a disorderly hopeless wreck on the floor. "Who could have
done it?" "There he goes," shouted one captain, as he ran to the window;
and, surely enough, a slender man in nautical garb was seen striking out
from under the sheltering walls of the ell-kitchens and sheds, and running
desperately across the snowy fields. Full chase was given and the marauder
finally captured; he was swung roughly around with oaths and blows, when
sudden silence fell on all. It was Sam Blood's wife in Sam Blood's togs.
"I'll settle for this dinner," said Sam Blood, blackly.
On his next voyage Mrs. Blood sailed with the captain. With the usual
ethical inconsistencies which prevail in small communities, Mrs. Sam Blood
the despoiler attracted more attention and sympathy than Mrs. Sam Blood
the poor, hard-working, sickly wife; it was the universal talk and
decision of all the women in town that the captain's wife needed a change
of scene; and she had to take it in that ironical form decreed to the
wives of old-time ship-owners, in a voyage of uncertain length and certain
discomfort on a sailing vessel, with no woman companion and the doubtful
welcome of the male members of the crew. Off she went to Savannah. At that
port she was no better, cried all the time (the first mate wrote home),
and seemed little like the woman of spirit who had wrecked the Mariners'
dinner. The captain decided to go with a cargo to South America to see how
the tropics would serve the ailing woman. His old home crew shipped back
to Boston, not caring for the trip far south, and a crew of creoles and
negroes was taken on the supplemental trip.
When Captain Blood and his schooner at last came into port at home, he
landed with sombre countenance, a mourning widower, and soon was properly
clad in trappings of woe. Mrs. Sam Blood was no more. Her husband stated
briefly that she had died and was buried at sea off the island of Jamaica.
A discreet and decent term of mourning passed, and Mrs. Blood, as is the
way of the living--and of the dead--was quite forgotten. Once more the
Mariners' Club was to have a dinner, and once more the table in the
Mariners' room was spread with good cheer and ample drink. Captain Blood,
in somewhat mitigated bereavement, was among the thronging guests who
lingered over a final stomach-warmer at the bar. The landlord ran out of
the room and roared down the main stairs that dinner was ready, and even
as he spoke, crash! smash! came a din from the Mariners' room, and there
was all the dinner and all the broken bottles with the table-cloth and the
upset table on the floor. It was a very unpleasant reminder to Sam Blood
of a very mortifying event, and his friends sympathized with him in
silence. This time no miscreant could be found in house or on farm, but
the landlord suspected a discharged and ugly servant, who might have run
down the little corner staircase, as Mrs. Blood had before him.
The ruined dinner was replaced by another a week later. The guests were
gathered, the landlord was bearing a last roast pig aloft, when smash!
crash! came again from the Mariners' room. Every one in the house rushed
up in tremendous excitement: the table-cloth was off, table upset, bottles
smashed. An ominous silence and a sense of the uncanny fell on all in the
room; some glanced askance at Sam Blood. More than one sharp-eyed old salt
noted that the great, hairy, tattooed hands of the widower shook
amazingly, though his face was the calmest of all the bronzed,
weather-beaten figure-heads staring around.
_There has never been a meal served from that table since_, though many a
meal has been spread on it. The landlord, a stubborn man of no nonsense
and no whims, grimly nailed the legs of the table to the floor, and
proceeded to set the succeeding dinner on the bare boards. It mattered
not, cloth or no cloth, every dinner small or great was always wrecked.
Watchers were set, enjoined not to take their eyes from the table, nor
themselves from the room. Something always happened, an alarm of fire, a
sudden call for help, an apparent summons from the landlord--this but for
a single moment, but in that moment smash! crash! went the dinner.
Captain Blood lived to a rather lonely and unpopular old age, for he was
held responsible for the decay and dissolution of the Mariners' Club; and
unjustly enough, for Neptune knows it was no wish of his. When occasional
dinners and suppers were given by nautical men in wholly mundane rooms in
other taverns, with no spiritual accompaniments,--that is, in the form of
ghosts,--the captain was left out. Men did not hanker for the
companionship of a man who left port with a wife and came home with a
ghost. He has been dead for decades, and is anchored in the old Hill
graveyard, where he sleeps the quiet sleep of the righteous; and the name
and virtues of Elvira, his beloved wife, are amply recorded on his
tombstone. But her ghost still walks, or at any rate still wrecks. I don't
like ghosts, but I really should like to meet this lively and persistent
Yankee wraith, clad in the meek and meagre drooping feminine attire which
was the mode in the early part of this century, or perhaps tentatively
mannish in peajacket and oilskins as in her day of riot of old. I really
wish I could see the spry and spiteful spirit of Mrs. Sam Blood, with her
expression of rampant victory as she twitches the table-cloth off, and
wrecks the bottles, and says in triumphal finality, "I'll settle for this
dinner"; thus gaining what is ever dear to a woman, even to the ghost of a
woman--the last word.
[Illustration: Montague City Tavern.]
Late on a November night in the early part of this century the landlord
and half a dozen teamsters sat drinking deep in the taproom of the Buxton
Inn. These rough travellers had driven into the yard during the afternoon
with their produce-laden wagons; for a heavy snow was falling, and it was
impossible wheeling, doubtful even whether they could leave the inn in
forty-eight hours--perhaps not for a week. Their board would not prove
very costly, for they carried their own horse-provender, and much of their
own food. Some paid for a bed, others slept free of charge round the fire;
but all spent money for drink. It was a fierce storm and a great fall of
snow for the month of the year--though November is none too mild any year
in New England. Though this snow was too early by half to be seasonable,
yet each teamster was roughly merry at the others' expense that he had not
"come down" on runners.
With dull days of inaction before them there was no need for early hours
of sleep, so all talked loud and long and drank boisterously, when
suddenly a series of heavy knocks was heard at the front door of the inn.
Bang! bang! angrily pounded the iron knocker, and the landlord went slowly
into the little front entry, fumbled heavily at the bolt, and at last
threw open the door to a fine young spark who blustered in with a great
bank of snow which fell in at his feet, and who was covered with rolls and
drifts of snow, which he shook off debonairly on all around him,
displaying at last a handsome suit of garments, gold-laced, and very fine
to those country bumpkins, but which a "cit" would have noted were
somewhat antiquated of cut and fashion.
He at once indicated and proved his claim to being a gentleman by swearing
roundly at the landlord, declaring that his horses and servant were housed
ere he was, that they had driven round and found shelter in the barn
before he could get into the front door. He could drink like a gentleman,
too, this fine young fellow, and he entered at once into the drinking and
singing and story-telling and laughing with as much zest as if he had been
only a poor common country clown. At last all fell to casting dice. The
stakes were low, but such as they were luck all went one way. After two
hours' rounds the gentleman had all the half-dollars and shillings, all
the pennies even, in his breeches pocket; and he laughed and sneered in
hateful triumph. Sobered by his losses, which were small but his all, one
teamster surlily said he was going to sleep, and another added, "'Tis high
time." And indeed it was, for at that moment old Janet, the tavern
housemaid, came in to begin her morning round of work, to pinch out the
candles, take up part of the ashes from the chimney-hearth, fill the
kitchen pots and kettles, gather in the empty bottles and glasses; and as
she did so, albeit she was of vast age, she glanced with warm interest at
the fine figure of fashion slapping his pockets, sneering, and drinking
off his glass. "Why, master," she said, staring, "you do be the very cut
of Sir Charles off our sign-board." "Let's see how he looks," swaggered
the young blade; "where's a window whence we can peep at him?" All trooped
to a nigh window in the tavern parlor to look at the portrait of Sir
Charles Buxton on the swing-sign, but to no avail, for there was yet but
scant light without, and they peered out only on thick snowdrifts on the
window panes. But when they reentered the kitchen, lo! their gay companion
was gone. Gone where? Back on the sign-board, of course. All who heard the
oft and ever repeated wonder-tale would have scoffed at the fuddled
notions of a drunken group of stupid teamsters, but the dollars and
shillings and pennies were gone too--the devil knows where; and who was to
pay the score for the double bowl of punch and the half-dozen mugs of
flip Sir Charles Buxton had ordered while the dicing was going on, and a
large share of which he had drunk off with all the zest of flesh and
blood? Besides, Janet had seen him, and Janet's eye for a young man could
never be doubted.
[Illustration: The Old Abbey, Bloomingdale Road, New York.]
I spent one night a few summers ago in a tavern haunted by the ghost of a
dead past. A sudden halt in our leisurely progress from town to town,
caused by a small but unsurmountable accident to our road-wagon, found us
in a little Massachusetts village of few houses. The blacksmith had gone
to a neighboring village to spend the night. It was twilight, and we
decided not to attempt to reach our intended place for sojourning, six
miles distant. We asked of a passer-by which house was the tavern. "There
isn't any," was the cheerful answer; "if you stay here over night you'll
have to stay at the poorhouse." Now this was rather an unalluring
alternative to any self-respecting citizen, but the night was coming on,
and, after vainly searching for some resident who had ever had summer
boarders, we determined to investigate the poorhouse. We found it the best
house in the village. It was the almshouse, but it had been for half a
century a tavern in reality, when the post-road lay through the town and
travellers were more frequent than to-day. There was evidence of its
tavern days in the old taproom, which had been converted into a
store-room. The house with twenty acres of land had been bequeathed to the
town by one of the old Bourne family that had lived in it so long. This
last Bourne owner was a childless widower, a St. Louis man, who had been
away from the home of his youth since early childhood and had little love
of it from old associations.
[Illustration: Tavern Pitcher. Apotheosis of Washington.]
The poormaster and his wife we found to be tidy, respectable folk, even
folk of a certain dignity, who owned the adjoining farm. Their own house
had burned down. So for ten years they had run the poorhouse. It had not
proved a very difficult task. Often there were no occupants; one year
there were two Portuguese cranberry pickers, stricken with rheumatism from
exposure in the cranberry bogs. Now both are married to American wives
and own prosperous cranberry bogs of their own. The poorhouse had its
usual quota on the night of our sojourn; we found two paupers living
there.
[Illustration: After the Shower.]
There was not time to prepare an extra meal of extra quality for the
travellers who came so suddenly for a night's shelter, but the good tea,
plentiful milk, fine bread and butter, honey, hot griddle-cakes, and fried
bacon bore testimony of ample fare and good housewifery. The two paupers
sat at the table and ate with us--a silver-haired old man of exquisite
cleanliness, and a grotesque little humpback. We noted that the old man
was ever addressed by all who spoke to him as Mr. Bourne, and during his
short absence from the room after supper the poor-mistress told us that
the almshouse had been the home and this the farm of his grandfather. The
supper was served in the great kitchen, and here we sat till a curfew bell
rang from the little church belfry at nine o'clock.
Considerable jealousy was shown by both paupers in their eager desire to
talk with us, and we learned that the dwarf was regarded as a genius; he
composed wonderful epitaphs, and had written poetry for the county
newspaper. He could set type, and could thus earn his living, but was
temporarily more feeble than usual, on account of a weight falling on his
back; after a few months he would go to work again. He represented the
brilliant and intellectual element of communal life, but was hopelessly
plebeian; while Mr. Bourne stood for blood and breeding. This the dwarf
Peter scorned, being a Socialist in his creed. A curious and touching
atmosphere of simplicity and confidence filled the old kitchen. The farmer
and his wife were deeply solicitous for the comfort and health of their
two charges; and as I sat there, tired by my long drive, a little lonely
from the strangeness of the surroundings, there was nevertheless a
profound sense that this poorhouse was truly a home.
[Illustration: Sign-board Grosvenor Inn.]
It was in the middle of this night that the experience came to me of the
greatest sense of passive comfort that I have known--and think of the
absurdity, in a poorhouse! We heard at midnight a light patter of quick
rain, and soon soft footsteps entered and our window shutters were
carefully closed. "It's me," said our landlady, ungrammatically and
pleasantly. "I didn't mean to wake you, but I always go to Mr. Bourne's
room when it rains to close his window for fear he'll take cold, so I
looked at yours," and the old-time figure in petticoat, shawl, and ruffled
nightcap withdrew as quietly as it had entered. Then came the hour of
half-sleep, a true "dozy hour," as Thackeray said. In this poorhouse, with
no book, no ready light, I fain must lie in silence, hence an hour such as
has been told in perfection in a simple yet finished piece of descriptive
English; let me give the classic prose of Sam Pepys--the words are
his--but the happy hour was mine as well as his:--
"Rode easily to Welling, where we supped well, and had two beds in the
room, and so lay single, and still remember it that of all the nights
that I ever slept in my life I never did pass a night with more
epicurism of sleep; there being now and then a noise of people
stirring that wakened me, and then it was a very rainy night, and then
I was a little weary, that what between waking, and then sleeping
again one after another, I never had so much content in all my life."
When we awoke the following morning Mr. Bourne was awaiting our coming
with some eagerness. The dwarf was absent, and the old man apologized for
one or two of Peter's remarks the night before which had seemed to him
uncivil. These were, however, only some of Peter's mild bitternesses about
division of property, the injustice of modern laws, the inequalities of
taxation, etc., which had seemed harmless enough in the mouth of a pauper.
While waiting the leisurely repairs of our vehicle at the hands of the
captured blacksmith, I yielded to Mr. Bourne's eager invitation to come
with him to see a piece of land he owned. "It's been in the family near
two hundred years," he said proudly. "Peter says I ought to be ashamed to
tell of my folks' grasping all them years God's gift of the soil that
ought to be just as free as the ocean and the sky; but I'm glad I've got
it. Peter's folks came from Middleboro way, and never did own no land nor
nothin', and I've noticed it's them sort that's always maddest at folks as
does have family things." After a few minutes of silence he added: "Peter
can't help it. It's born in him to feel that way, just as it's born into
me to feel proud of my property." We walked along the sandy road under the
beautiful autumnal sky. A dense group of stunted cedars and one towering
fir tree rose sombrely in a little enclosed corner below the church. "This
is my property," said the old man, cheerfully, "and they're all Bournes
and Swifts in it. There lies my great-grandfather, the old parson, under
that flat stone come from England. Here is my mother. That slate headstone
over there is for my brother lost at sea on one of his voyages. I am going
to be put exactly here. Them four stones I put to mark it. And Peter
hasn't any graveyard--don't even know where his father is buried--so he's
going to lie over here in this corner. He's the only one as ain't a Swift
or a Bourne, and it's a great honor to him. He's had to pay me for it,
though; he's written me an epitaph, and it's a good one; it'll be the best
one in the whole graveyard."
[Illustration: The Parting of the Ways.]
Index
Abbott's Tavern, 111-112.
Accidents on coaches, 365 _et seq._
"Accommodation," service in travel, 273, 298.
_Adam and Eveses Garden_, 157.
Adams, John, quoted, on landlord, 69;
on drinking habits, 103, 112;
on Revolutionary sentiments, 170-173, 175;
on Revolutionary song, 173.
Addison, quoted, 140-141.
Ah-coobee, 101.
Albany, N. Y., tavern at, 85-86;
foot post to, 275;
stage line at, 365-366;
highway robbery in, 394 _et seq._
Ale, use of, 123.
Alexander, John, highway robbery by, 384 _et seq._
Alexandria, Va., turnpike at, 232.
Alleghany Mountains, pack-horses on, 242.
Almshouse, ghost story of, 430 _et seq._
American House, Springfield, fare at, 88.
Ames, Nathaniel, tavern of, 164 _et seq._;
almanacks of, 164;
sign-board of, 165.
Amherst, Mass., sign-boards at, 123, 421.
Anchor Inn, 5.
Andover, Mass., tavern license in, 64-66.
Andros, Sir Edmund, wine list of, 136;
coach of, 256.
Angel Tavern, 157.
Animals, at taverns, 197-198.
Animals' heads, sign-boards of, 138.
Annals of the Revolution, 377.
Annual parade, 336.
Apples, in New England, 125;
in Virginia, 129;
in New York, 130;
names of, 130.
Arcade Tavern, 294.
Arlington, Mass., taverns at, 180.
Armitage, Joseph, ordinary-keeper, 5.
Arnold, David, tavern of, 215.
Arnold, Peleg, tavern of, 352;
roads of, 352;
milestone of, 352-353.
Artists, as sign-board painters, 142 _et seq._
Ashburnham Thief Detecting Society, handbill of, 393.
Ashton, John, cited, 193.
Auctions. _See_ Vendues.
Ayers, John, 170 _et seq._
Bacchanalians, 141.
Backgammon, at coffee-houses, 49.
Badger and Porter's Stage Lists, 273, 372.
Bag-o'-Nails, 141.
Balancing on stage-coach, 367-368.
Balch, John, post-rider, 309.
Balloons, at taverns, 198;
on railroads, 285.
Baltimore, Md., taverns in, 32;
wine prices at, 88-89;
turnpikes in, 232;
Conestoga wagons at, 247;
highway robbery in, 384 _et seq._
Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, 284.
Bannocks, Tuggie, 95-96.
Bar, in taverns, 43.
Barbadoes, rum in, 100.
Barbadoes brandy, 101.
Barbadoes liquor, 101.
Barberries, superstitions about, 340-341.
Barge, use of word, 266-267.
Barnum, P. T., quoted, 130.
Barnum's Hotel, Baltimore, prices at, 88-89.
Barre, sign-board at, 168.
Barre, Colonel, 173.
Barre and Worcester Stage Line, 305.
Barrington, R I., prices at, 79-80.
Bartlett, Eliphalet, tavern of, 47.
Bay Path, 224-225.
Beakers, glass, 44.
Beal, Thomas, coach line of, 271-272.
Bear, as a mark, 208.
Beaumont, quoted, 207.
Beehive Tavern, 154.
Beer, brewing regulated by law, 4;
price established, 4;
in New York, 121;
in Virginia, 121-122.
Bell Savage, 141.
Bell teams, 247.
Bell, Tom, story of, 380-381.
Bellarmine jug, 44.
Bellows-top, 109.
Bells, on pack-horses, 243;
on Conestoga wagons, 247-248.
Bennett, quoted, 103, 128, 256-257.
Berkeley, Governor, quoted, 122.
Bethlehem, Penn., tavern at, 57 _et seq._
Beverige, 131-132.
Beverly, Mass., ordinary at, 2.
Bible and Key, 157.
Bible and Peacock, 157.
Biblical names, of towns, 58;
of taverns, 157.
Bickerdyke, quoted, 132.
Bilboes, 8, 215.
Billiards, forbidden, 5.
Bills of fare, 87-88.
Bingham house a tavern, 53.
Birch, beer of, 123;
vistas of, 346.
Bispham's Tavern, Trenton, 83-84.
Bissell's Tavern, 150-151.
"Bite," 327.
Black Ben, anecdote of, 332.
Black, William, quoted, 116.
Black Horse Tavern, Winchester, 180.
"Blacks," 373.
Black Horse Tavern, 39;
shows at, 197.
Black jacks, 14.
Black Sam. _See_ Samuel Fraunces.
Black strap, 104.
Bladensburgh, Md., tavern at, 32.
Bliss, Joseph, 311.
Bliss Tavern, Haverhill, N. H., 311, 314.
Blood, Sam, ghost story of, 420 _et seq._
Blue Anchor Tavern, Boston, names of chambers, 18;
landlord of, 62.
Blue Anchor Tavern, Cambridge, bills at, 81.
Bogus, 104.
Bonaparte, Jerome, 186.
Bonnets, bought by stage-drivers, 328;
highway robbery of, 408.
Book auctions, 197.
Boreel Building, 35.
Boston, ordinaries in, 6, 9, 10-11, 13, 17-19;
night watch in, 6;
smoking fined in, 13;
ale-houses in, 20;
liquor sellers in, 25;
disorder in, 26-27;
taverns in, 154;
oldest inn in, 180;
pillory in, 218;
bridges in, 228 _et seq._;
coaches in, 256 _et seq._;
stage-coach lines from, 271 _et seq._, 371 _et seq._
Boston, Sarah, 96-99.
Boston and Hartford Stage Line, 291 _et seq._
Boston and Lowell R. R., 287.
Boston and Providence R. R., 287.
Boston and Worcester R. R., first cars on, 287.
Boston _Courier_, objects to railroads, 289.
Boston Tea Party, 181.
Boston _Traveller_, 273.
Bound children, 221.
Bowen Inn, prices at, 79-80.
Bowls, forbidden, 5.
Box, fragrance of, 347.
Brackett, Landlord, 84-85.
Braddock, General, horses and wagons for, 242 _et seq._
Braddock's trail, 243.
Bradford, printer, of Philadelphia, 49-50.
Bradish, Sister, encouraged in brewing, 122.
Bradstreet, Simon, bills of, 5;
rides in coach, 256.
Brakes, early, 288.
Brandy-wine, 101.
Bray, Major, robbery of, 405 _et seq._
Brazil, story of, 298 _et seq._
Breck, Samuel, cited, 218.
Bridges, sign-boards on, 149;
of fallen trees, 223, 356;
building of, 228;
of stone, 356;
of wood, 357-358;
insecurity of, 366 _et seq._
Bridle-paths, 223.
Brissot, quoted, 67.
_British Apollo_, 139.
Brookfield, Mass., tavern at, 140;
war at, 170 _et seq._
Brookline, Mass., turkey-shoot in, 208;
tavern, anecdote of, 383-384.
Brown, John, chariot of, 258-259.
Browner, Deb., 94-95.
Bryant, Harrison, anecdote of, 324-325.
Buck Horn Tavern, 169.
Buckman Tavern, 23, 179-180, 384.
Bucks County Historical Society, Pennsylvania, 239, 252.
Buffalo Bill, coach of, 265.
Buggy, 258.
Bull and Mouth, 141-142.
Bull-baiting, 209.
Bully Dawson, punch recipe of, 119-120.
Bunch of Grapes, lecture at, 198, 204-205.
Bunting, 92.
Burke, Edmund, quoted, 103.
Burlington, Mass., tavern at, 182-183.
Burnaby, quoted, 90.
Burning at stake, 218-219.
Burns, George, 36.
Bush, as tavern-sign, 169.
Butchers, as letter-carriers, 274.
Butler, coach-driver, 268.
Buxton Inn, ghost story of, 426 _et seq._
Bynner, Edwin Lasseter, quoted, 196-197.
Cable cars, 285.
Calash, described, 257.
Calibogus, 104.
Calves' head soup, 89.
Cambridge, Mass., seating meeting at, 16-17;
first landlord at, 63;
first liquor license at, 63;
selectmen's bills at, 81;
negro burned in, 218-219.
Canajoharie, N. Y., stages at, 236;
spelling of name, 237.
Canary, use of, 32.
Canton, Mass., flip in, 109.
Captain Lightfoot, 402.
Captain Thunderbolt, 402-403, 407.
"Carding," forbidden, 5.
Carriages, for pleasure, 227;
in Philadelphia, 256.
Cars on railroads, 285 _et seq._
Carts, near Boston, 257;
in New England, 313.
Cart-bridges, 228.
Cartways, 222.
Castle Inn, scene at, 28-29.
Cat and Wheel, 141.
Catfish suppers, 90-91.
Catherine Wheel, 141.
Cato's House, 40-41.
Cattle tracks, 223.
Cavalry corps, in Massachusetts, 226.
Central Hotel, Worcester, 303.
Centrebrook, Conn., tavern at, 152-153.
Chain bridge, Newburyport, 230.
Chair, described, 258.
Chaise, described, 257-258;
French, 258.
Chalking his hat, 233.
Chapin, C. W., 338.
Chariots, 253, 258-259.
Charles River, bridge over, 228 _et seq._
Charlestown, Mass., great house at, 15.
Charlestown, N. H., tavern at, 154;
coachman at, 323.
Cheney, B. P., 338.
Chester, Vt., marriages at, 345.
"Chopping," 327.
Church, Dr., a traitor, 181.
Cider, use of, 103 _et seq._;
price of, 125, 128, 129;
manufacture of, 128.
Ciderkin, 130.
Cider-royal, 130.
City Hotel, Hartford, bill of fare, 89.
City Hotel, New York, 37 _et seq._
City Tavern, New York, 33 _et seq._
Claret, use of, 136.
Clark's Inn, Philadelphia, 55 _et seq._
Clawson, John, murder of, 341-342.
Clifford's Tavern, thief sold at, 219-220.
Clubs, in taverns, 35.
Cluffe, Richard, anecdote of, 4-5.
Coachee, described, 257.
Coaches, in England, 253-256;
objections to, 254;
books about, 255-256;
in America, 256 _et seq._;
in Scotland, 283.
Coachmen, in England, 323, 328, 336-337.
Coast Path, 224.
Cochran, Mordecai, 233.
Coffee, introduction of, 48;
abuse of, 48.
Coffee-houses, in London, 47-48;
in New York, 48-49;
in Philadelphia, 49-50;
in Boston, 50-51.
Coffyn, Tristram, keeps ordinary, 2.
Cohos Turnpike, 309.
Cohos Valley, 308.
Cole, Samuel, keeps ordinary, 180.
Coles, Robert, two sentences of, 8.
Collier, William, wine seller, 63.
Collin's Tavern, 92.
Comfortier, 46.
Commutation, in travel, 298.
Concerts, at taverns, 203.
Concord, Mass., lack of ordinary in, 2;
tavern at, 179.
Concord, N. H., coach-making in, 264-265;
stagemen's ball at, 336.
Conestoga wagons, first appearance in history, 242-243;
payment for use of, 242;
a pride, 245;
shape of, 246;
equipment of, 247-248;
number of, 249;
in Revolution, 250;
in War of 1812, 250;
in New England, 312 _et seq._
Conkey Tavern, 186-188.
Connecticut, laws in, 2;
apples in, 125.
Convicts sent to America, 374.
Cook, Tom, 381 _et seq._
Coolidge, turnkey, 406.
Cooper, James Fenimore, quoted, 68-69.
Cooper Tavern, 180.
Corduroy roads, 227-228.
Courts held in taverns, 213-214.
Cowper, quoted, 266.
Cox, Lemuel, bridges of, 229 _et seq._
Craft's Tavern, 205.
Creels, transportation by, 283.
Criminals, public punishment of, 214 _et seq._;
sale of, 219-220.
Cromwell's Head Tavern, 84-85.
Crosby, J., advertisement of, 117-118.
Curricle, described, 257-258.
Cutpurse, Moll, 374.
Cutter, Joseph, tavern of, 153.
Danbury, Conn., railroad incident at, 287.
Dancing, forbidden, 4, 6;
at New York ball, 39.
Danforth, Nicholas, sells wine, 63.
Danforth, Samuel, anecdote of, 10.
Dankers, quoted, 130.
Darrach, Mrs. Lydia, action of, 378.
Daughters of Liberty, 173.
Davenport, George, tavern bill of, 177-178.
Deer seen from coach, 345.
De Lanceys, house of, 35-36, 183-184.
De Lancey Arms, bull-baiting at, 209.
Dennie, Joseph, 206-207.
De Quincey, quoted, 360.
Dicing forbidden, 5.
Dickens, Charles, quoted, 255.
Distances, elastic, 354.
Doanes, story of, 377 _et seq._
Dogs, turnspits, 55-57.
Doherty, John, 402.
Doolittle Tavern, 153.
Door-latch, iron, 42.
Dorchester, Mass., tavern at, 175.
Drafts, in America, 374-375.
"Draw," 327.
Dress of stage-drivers, 325-326.
Drift of the forest, 210.
Drivers, rivalry of, 269;
of wagons in New England, 313.
Driving, rules for, 333-334.
Drunkenness, laws about, 7 _et seq._, 34-35;
of coachmen, 295, 328.
Dunbarton, N. H., 219-220.
Dunton, John, quoted on landlord, 5, 62;
on punch bowl, 116.
Dutch, drink of, 103.
Duxbury, Mass., ordinary at, 3, 64.
Dwight, Dr., quoted on landlords, 66.
Eagle Coffee-house, Concord, N. H., 336.
Eagle Tavern, East Poultney, Vt., 46.
Eagle Tavern, Newton, N. H., 46-47.
Ear-bells, 247.
Earl of Halifax Tavern, 175-177, 278.
Early start of stage-coaches, 294, 369 _et seq._
East Poultney, Vt., taverns at, 46.
East Windsor, Conn., tavern at, 150-153.
Eastern Stage Company, 273 _et seq._;
drivers of, 332, 338.
Eastern Stage House, 199.
Ebulum, 132.
Egan, Pierce, books of, 321-322.
Egg-hot, 111
Egg-nogg, Cato's, 41.
Egg-nogg stick, 114.
Eicholtz, sign-board by, 153.
Electrical machines, at taverns, 198.
Ellery Tavern, Gloucester, accounts at, 80-81.
Elopements, 344-345.
Emerson, Joseph, ownership of a "shay," 259-260.
Emerson, R. W., anecdote told by, 358-359.
Endicott, Governor, bills of, 5;
apples planted by, 125.
Enlisting, 188 _et seq._
Epping, N. H., anecdote of coaching at, 368-369.
Ernst, C. W., quoted, 227, 267, 280.
Essex Bridge, 229.
Essex Turnpike, 231.
Everett, David, 207.
Exchange Coffee-house, Boston, 50 _et seq._, 199.
Exchange Hotel, Worcester, 300.
Exchange Tavern, Boston, 45.
Execution Day, 217, 312.
Experiment railroad, 284.
Falstaff Inn, 155.
Farming, 327.
Farrar, Major John, keeps tavern, 293.
Father of the Turnpike, 297.
Fayal wine, use of, 32.
Fayetteville, N. C., bridge at, 366-367.
Federal Convention Inn, 145 _et seq._
Ferries, ordinaries at, 2;
establishment of, 228;
frozen in, 279.
Fessenden, T. G., 207.
Fiennes, Celia, quoted, 244-245.
Finlay, Hugh, quoted, 277-278.
Fireplaces, 41-42.
Fisher, Joshua, 164.
Fitchburg, Mass., tavern at, 16.
Fitzhugh, Colonel, apple trees of, 129.
Flagg, Parson, marriages of, 345.
Flip, description of, 108;
early note of, 108;
in Canton, Mass., 109;
in England, 110;
recipe for, 111;
price of, 112;
taste of, 113.
Flip dog, 112.
Flip glasses, 109-110.
Flip iron, 112.
Floating bridges, 228, 367.
Flowers, of gardens, 347;
of fields, 347;
of orchards, 348.
Flying machines, 261.
Flying Mail Stages, 261.
Flying wagons, 261.
Foot-bridges, 228.
Foot-paths, 223, 225.
Foot-port, 275.
Fountain Inn, Baltimore, Md., 32.
Fountain Inn, Medford, Mass., 53 _et seq._
Four Alls, 160-161.
Fox and Hounds, 168.
Fox-chase, 209, 210.
Franklin, Benjamin, home of, a tavern, 53;
quoted, 69-70;
on sign-board, 152;
at tavern, 195;
secures wagons for Braddock's Army, 242-243;
milestones of, 353;
cyclometer of, 353.
Franklin Inn, 159.
Fraunces, Samuel, 183-184.
Fraunces Tavern, 183-184.
Freemasons, at tavern, 180, 203 _et seq._
Freight cars, 287.
Frey, S. L., cited, 211.
Furs, 243.
Games, prohibited, 5.
Gardens, 347.
Garrigues Ferry, 91.
Gates on turnpikes, 237.
General Ticket Office, of Pease, 298.
Genessee Valley, 234.
Gentlemen sailors, 189 _et seq._
Germantown, Penn., 155.
Ghosts, in England, 409;
in taverns, 410;
of Indians, 410.
Gig, 226.
Gimlet team, 314.
Gin, use of, 103.
Gloucester, Mass., tavern bills at, 80-81.
Goat and Compass, 141.
_Going Down with Victory_, 360.
Golden Hill Inn, 184-185.
Golden Lion, 163.
Good Intent Coach Line, 268.
Good Woman, 162-163.
Grafton, Mass., Indians at, 96.
Grease-pot. _See_ Tar-lodel.
Green Bush, 169.
Green Dragon Inn, 180-181.
Greenfield, Mass., tavern at, 153.
Gregory's Tavern, Albany, 85-86.
Greyhound Tavern, 10, 24.
Grog, 104.
"Grub," 249.
Guide-boards, 354.
"Gumption," 130.
Hall, Basil, quoted, 67, 79, 208-209, 290, 370.
Hall, Francis, quoted on landlords, 66.
Hammond, John, quoted, 131-132.
Hancock, John, on sign-board, 152;
at Liberty Tavern, 175.
Hancock Tavern, 152.
Handkerchief with postal lists, 281 _et seq._
Hanging in chains, 342.
Hardy, Governor, dinner to, 36.
Hare Brothers, highway robbery by, 386 _et seq._
Harnesses of Conestoga wagons, 247.
Harrington Tavern, Shrewsbury, Mass., 299.
Hartford, Conn., tavern at, 43-44;
ordination bill at, 82.
Harvard College, cider at, 125;
Commencement at, 128;
love-making in, 216-217;
pillory in, 218.
Harvey, Governor, complaint of, 32.
Hat Tavern and Sign-board, 147.
Hatch, Israel, coach lines of, 271-272.
Haverhill, N. H., tavern and stage life in, 309-319.
Hawthorne, quoted, 218.
Hayden Tavern, sign-board of, 28, 150.
Hays' Tavern, Brattleboro, 65.
Hen and Chickens, 151-152.
Henry, Edward Lamson, collections of, 32-33.
Herndon, John, curse of, 341.
Hicks, sign-board by, 239.
Highwaymen, in England, 373, 375;
in America, 374 _et seq._
Highwaywomen, 408.
Hingham, Mass., Thief Detecting Society of, 393.
Histrionic academies, 200.
Hogarth, sign-board by, 160.
Holden, Mass., flip at, 111-112.
Holland, J. G., quoted, 225.
Holyhead Road, 230-231.
Horns as tavern-signs, 169.
Horse-bridges, 228.
Horse-cars, 285.
Horse-paths, 237.
Horse thief, 211 _et seq._
Horses as tavern-signs, 152;
rearing of, 226;
plenty of, 227;
of Conestoga breed, 247;
in Boston, 257;
on New England wagons, 315;
on stage-coaches, 332-333;
false tails on, 333.
Hotels, evolution of, 51-52.
Hottle, 112.
Hound-handle pitcher, 26.
Hundredth Town, 96.
Hutchinson, Governor, milestones set by, 350.
Ibbetson, sign-board by, 142.
Indian Queen Tavern, Bladensburg, 32.
Indian Queen Tavern, Philadelphia, 52-53.
Indians, sale of rum prohibited to, 7, 103;
leniency to, 92 _et seq._;
on sign-boards, 154;
attack on Brookfield, 170 _et seq._;
wars of, 170 _et seq._;
paths of, 223 _et seq._;
as mail-carriers, 274-275;
ghosts of, 410.
Inn, use of word, 30.
Insurance office in tavern, 198.
Inveigling of girls' affections, 216-217.
Ipswich, Mass., landlord at, 69;
shipping at, 217.
Ipswich River, bridge on, 358.
Irish workers on roads, 233-234.
Jackasses, sale of, 197.
Jacks. _See_ Black-jacks.
Jansen, quoted, 263.
Jefferson, Thomas, quoted, 232.
Jencks, Reuben, tavern of, 410 _et seq._
Jencks Tavern, ghost story of, 410-419.
Johnstown, N. Y., tavern at, 85.
Jokes, of landlords, 70 _et seq._;
at taverns, 92.
Jordan, John V., account of The Rose Tavern, 57.
Josselyn, John, quoted, 69, 129.
Joyce, Herbert, quoted, 281.
June Bug, coach line, 268.
Kalm, quoted, 130.
Kennebunk Road by the Sea, 224.
Kentucky, metheglin in, 124.
"Kids," 374.
Kieft, Director, quoted, 33.
Kill devil, 100, 101.
King's Arms, Boston, inventory of, 17 _et seq._
King's Arms, Newport, play at, 200 _et seq._
King's College, services at, 36.
King's Head Tavern, Brooklyn, 209-210.
Kittery, Me., makes road, 224.
Knights, Sarah, quoted, 76 _et seq._;
journey of, 76.
Knot bowl, Indian, 44.
Lackawanna, pauper sold at, 221.
Lafayette, on sign-boards, 152;
at taverns, 186, 195, 301.
Lamb, Charles, quoted, 119.
Lamb Tavern, 199.
Lambert, John, quoted, 333.
Lancaster, Mass., cider at, 128.
Lancaster, Penn., taverns in, 143 _et seq._, 213-214;
sign-boards in, 143;
Conestoga wagons in, 243, 252;
pack-horses at, 245;
steam cars at, 287;
stage-coach at, 370-371.
Lang, Andrew, quoted, 414.
Langdon, J. F., 334.
La Rochefoucauld, cited, 227.
La Tour, indignity to his companion, 11.
Lay Preacher, 206-207.
Lebanon Tavern, 157.
Lecture Day, 218.
Lemons, sign of, 139.
Lemons, 117.
"Leveller," 382.
Lexington, Mass., taverns at, 179-180;
highway robbery at, 384.
Ley, Lord, at Boston ordinary, 6.
Liberty poles, 173.
Liberty trees, 173 _et seq._
License, of taverns, 64 _et seq._
_Life in London_, 321-322.
Lighthouse, Sandy Hook, 36-37.
Lime Rock, R. I., tavern at, 44.
"Limited" service, of travel, 298.
Linnaeus, classification of, 347.
Literary Club of Walpole, 205-207.
Little Falls, N. Y., fare at, 85.
Lloyd, Governor, house a tavern, 53.
Locomotives, early, 284, 286.
Loggerhead, 108-109.
Loggets, forbidden, 5.
London Coffee-house, Philadelphia, 49.
Londonderry, Ireland, bridge at, 229.
_London Labour and London Poor_, 320.
Longfellow, quoted, 371.
Lottery, for Sandy Hook Lighthouse, 36;
at taverns, 203.
Louis Philippe, at tavern, 181.
Lowell, quoted, 113.
_Loyal Garland_, 133.
_Loyalists_, 377.
Lucas, John, chariot of, 258.
Ludlow, Lt., robbery of, 384 _et seq._
Macadamized roads, 231 _et seq._
Macraby, Alexander, quoted, 49.
Madeira, use of, 32, 103;
prices of, 88, 89.
Madigolum, 58.
Madison's War, 191.
Mail, transportation of, 269;
by butchers, 274;
by Indians, 275;
by post, 275;
irregularity of, 275;
conditions of service, 277-278;
in England, 281;
in Scotland, 283 _et seq._;
in United States, 297, 305.
Mail-coaches, on Holyhead Road, 230-231;
at Whitestown, N. Y., 236;
at Canajoharie, 237;
in England, 255, 280;
in America, 269, 280 _et seq._;
glories of, 360.
Mail Stage Carriages, 261.
Maize, beer from, 121, 122.
Malaga, use of, 30.
Malden Bridge, 229.
Man Full of Trouble, 159 _et seq._
Man Loaded with Mischief, 159 _et seq._
Man Making his Way through the World, 161-162.
Manners at taverns, 78.
Mansion House, Philadelphia, 86-87.
March, Hugh, keeps an ordinary, 2-3.
Marden, H. P., 335.
Mariners' Club, 420.
Market, winter ride to, 316-320.
Markham, Gervayse, 133.
Marlborough, Mass., 224.
"Marmalet-madams," 6.
Martin, Mike, career of, 401 _et seq._
Maryland, road house in, 33;
pillory in, 218;
turnpikes in, 232, 234;
railroads in, 284-285.
Massachusetts Grand Lodge, 204.
Mather, Cotton, quoted, 20.
Mather, Increase, quoted, 102.
Mather, Samuel, quoted, 117.
May, Silas, opens stage line, 309.
McAdam, James, 231.
McAdam, Loudon, 231.
McGowan's Tavern, 249-250.
Mead, use of, 123-124.
Meals, price of, 4;
at early taverns, 76-77, 317.
Medford, Mass., tavern at, 53 _et seq._
Meeting-house, relation to tavern, 13-14;
discomforts of, 14.
Melish, John, quoted, 85, 230, 371.
Mendenhall Ferry Tavern, 90-91.
Mendum, Jack, anecdote of, 331-332.
Merchants' Coffee-house, 49.
Metheglin, use of, 124-125;
price of, 124.
Mileposts, in Massachusetts, 350-351;
in Connecticut, 351-352;
in Rhode Island, 352.
Militia, 249.
Miller, "Devil" Dave, 73-74.
"Mimbo," 104.
Miner, H. S., quoted, 313, 332, 334.
"Mitchin," 317.
Mohawk Turnpike, 234 _et seq._
Molasses, rum from, 103;
beer from, 122.
Monk, George, 62.
Monroe Tavern, 179.
Monteith punch bowl, 115.
Moore, Thomas, quoted, 366.
Moose, exhibited, 197-198.
Morland, George, sign-board by, 142.
Morton, Thomas, punished in bilboes, 215.
Mowry, Roger, tavern of, 340.
Mowry's Inn, 44.
Mulberry trees, 346.
Mulled wine, recipe for, 136.
Murline, Jacob, love-making of, 216-217.
Nahant Hotel plate, 206.
Naming of chambers, 17-18.
Nangatuck, Conn., tavern at, 92.
Narragansett, travel in, 341, _et seq._;
murder in, 342;
shift marriages in, 343;
elopement in, 344-345;
burial of suicide in, 344.
Narragansett Pacers, 226.
National Line, 268.
National Road, travellers on, 195, 233;
construction of, 232 _et seq._;
coach lines on, 268 _et seq._
Negro highwayman, 388.
Negus, 137.
Neighborliness, of colonists, 1.
Newbury, Mass., ordinary at, 2.
Newburyport, Mass., tavern at, 145;
bill at, 177-178;
bridge at, 230.
Newburyport Turnpike, 231.
New Connecticut Path, 224.
New Exchange, N. Y., 48-49.
New Hampshire, stage-drivers in, 334-336.
_New Liberty Song_, 173.
New London, Conn., milestone at, 353.
New Netherland, taverns in, 33.
Newport, R. I., turtle-feast at, 90;
play at, 200 _et seq._
Newspapers, at taverns, 91-92.
New York, taverns in, 33 _et seq._, 90;
just from, 275.
Night-watch, rules in Boston, 6;
in Bethlehem, Penn., 58 _et seq._;
rhymes of, 60.
Ninepins, forbidden, 5.
Nipmuck Trail, 224.
Noah's Ark, 157.
Norfolk, Va., impressment in, 191-192.
_Notions of the Americans_, 68, 82-83.
Nutmeg-holders, 137.
Nutmegs, use of, 136-137.
"Ocuby," 101.
Ohio Company, organization of, 205.
Ohio, settlement of, 234 _et seq._;
emigration to, 416.
Old Connecticut Path, 224.
Oldmixon, quoted, 125.
Olmstead, Nicholas, in pillory, 218.
Olney Tavern, 174.
Omnibus, 273.
Ordinaries, use of word, 1, 30;
reasons for establishment of, 2;
inducements to keep, 2;
restrictions upon, 3-4, 7, 10-11.
Ordination ball, 82.
Ordination beer, 82.
Ordination Day, 82;
liquor at, 116.
"Owlers," 373.
Pack-horses, in England, 241, 244;
on Alleghany Mountains, 242-244;
common carriers, 245.
Paddock, coaches of, 280.
Palmer, starts mail-coaches, 280.
Parkman, Dr., diary of, 383.
Parley, Peter, quoted, 186, 284-285.
Parlor, of tavern, 41-42.
Patriot Brothers, sign-board, 149.
Paulus Hook, stage-coaches from, 262.
Paupers, sale of, 220-222.
Peachy, 132.
Pease, Levi, 293 _et seq._
Pease Tavern, 291 _et seq._
Peg Mullen's Beefsteak House, 203-204.
Pelham, Mass., tavern at, 186-188;
tolls at, 240.
Pembroke Tavern, sign-board of, 217.
Penn, Richard, home a tavern, 53.
Penn, William, quoted, 104.
Pepys, Samuel, quoted, 433.
Pequot Trail, milestone on, 353.
Perkins Inn, sign-board of, 152.
Perry, 132.
Persimmons, beer from, 122.
Phelps, Joseph, 150.
Philadelphia, Penn., taverns in, 33, 86-87;
as a port, 33;
sign-boards in, 163;
freemasons in, 203;
courts in, 213;
carriages in, 256;
lines of stages, 261, 267-268.
Phillips House, 45.
Pick-a-back, across rivers, 223-224.
Pig and Carrot, 141.
Pillion, 226.
Pillory, 218.
Pine trees of the King, 346.
Pine Tree Tavern, 46.
Pioneer Line, 268-270.
Pipe-tongs, 46.
Pitcairn, Major, anecdote of, 179.
Pitt, William, sign-board of, 151, 156, 173, 177.
Pitt Tavern, 151.
Plays, at taverns, 200 _et seq._
Plymouth, Mass., first wine sellers in, 63.
Plymouth Path, 224.
"Pod," 316.
"Podanger," 314.
"Pointing," 327.
Pompoins. _See_ Pumpkins.
Poore Tavern, 159.
Portsmouth, N. H., tavern at, 175-176;
stage line at, 278 _et seq._
Portsmouth Road, 342.
Post, riding with, 76;
by foot, 275-276;
duties of, 275;
in Haverhill, N. H., 309.
Postal rates, 282.
Postlethwaite's Tavern, 213-214.
Postmaster, salary of, 277.
Post-riders, 276-277.
Potatoes, beer from, 122.
Potter, Paul, sign-board by, 142-143.
Pottle, 84.
Prairie schooner, 252.
Pratt, Matthew, sign-board by, 146.
Prescott, Mass., tavern at, 186-188.
Press-gang, 191-192.
Prices of tavern fare, 4, 5, 31, 79-82, 84, 85, 88-89.
Products, of New England farm, 316-317.
Providence, R. I., first ordinary at, 16, 340;
Liberty Tree at, 174;
rival coach lines from, 271 _et seq._
Providence Path, 224.
Province Arms, New York, 35 _et seq._
Province House, Boston, a tavern, 53.
Prygman, 219.
Pseudonyms, 207.
Pumpkins, beer from, 122, 123.
Punch, use of, 103, 115, 116;
derivation of, 114;
recipe for, 116-117, 120;
price of, 118, 177;
names of, 118-119.
Punch bowls, 114 _et seq._
Punch Bowl Tavern, turkey-shoot at, 208.
Punch-tasters, 118.
"Pung," 316.
Punishments, 214 _et seq._
Putnam, Israel, a landlord, 145.
Pye, John, robbery of, 394 _et seq._
Pygarg, 197.
Quakers, whipped, 217.
Quarles, quoted, 29.
Quawbang, 170.
Queen's Birthday, celebration of, 26.
Queen's Head, 183.
Quick, Elmira, sold as pauper, 221-222.
Quincy, Eliza S., quoted, 276.
Quincy, Josiah, quoted, 104, 294-295, 370-371.
Quincy Railroad, 284.
Quoits, forbidden, 5.
Rabbit, on sign-board, 153.
Railroads, early, 284 _et seq._;
objections to, 288-290;
discomforts of, 349.
Rainbow Coffee-house, 48.
Raleigh Inn, 155.
Rambarge. _See_ Rumbarge.
Rambooze. _See_ Rumbooze.
Ramsey, landlord, 74-75.
Recruiting offices, taverns as, 188 _et seq._
Redemptioners, 374.
Red Rose of the Olden Time, 57 _et seq._
Reed, President, quoted, 250.
Regulars, 249.
Reins, on Conestoga wagons, 248;
on stage-coaches, 334.
Revere, Paul, engraving by, 84;
quoted, 181.
Rhymes, of taprooms, 45;
of night-watch, 60-61.
Ribbonmen, 401.
Riedesel, Baron, quoted, 103.
Road-bed of early railroads, 288.
Road house, 33.
Road wagon, 260.
Roads, earliest, 223;
quality of, 227;
in England, 230 _et seq._
Robinson, Hannah, elopement of, 344.
Robinson's Tavern, 175.
Rogers, Fairman, quoted, 265.
Rose Tavern, 57.
Royal Exchange Tavern, Boston, 204.
Rum, first use of word, 100;
derivation of word, 100;
varying prices, 102, 103;
in mixed drinks, 104 _et seq._
Rumbarge, 101.
Rumbooze, description of, 101.
Rum bottles, 102.
Rumbowling, 101.
Rumbullion, 100.
Rumfustian, description of, 101.
Russel Tavern, 180.
Rye, N. Y., ordinary at, 77.
Sack, selling prohibited, 4;
early mention of, 133 _et seq._;
application of name, 133;
price of, 134;
in America, 135 _et seq._
Sack-posset, use of, 134;
recipe for, 134-135.
Sail boats, on sign-boards, 159.
Sailors, on sign-boards, 158-159.
Salem, Mass., tavern bill of, 16;
sign-board in, 19-20;
woman keeps tavern in, 20;
animal shows at, 197.
Salem, N. J., tavern prices at, 118.
Salem and Boston Turnpike, 231.
Salt, on pack-horses, 244.
Saltonstall, Nathaniel, protest of, 21-22.
Sanborn, Charles, 334.
Sandy Hook Lighthouse, 36-37.
Sangaree, 134.
Sassafras, beer of, 123.
Scents, of woods, 348;
of gardens, 348-349;
of fields, 347-349;
of fruits, 349.
Schoolboys on coaches, 329-330.
Schuylkill Bridge, 230.
Scotchem, 105-108.
Seabury, liquor seller, 64.
Sea terms in land travel, 267.
Seating the meeting, 16-17.
Selectmen, bills of, 80-81.
Sewall, Samuel, Judge, compared with Pepys, 24;
character of, 24-25;
on a wedding, 135-136;
buys trunks, 330;
on suicide, 344.
Shad, planked, 89.
Shaffer, anecdote of, 272.
Shaw, Major, on railroads, 339.
"Shay," 258;
cost of, 259.
Shays's Rebellion, 186 _et seq._
Sherris-sack, 134.
Shift marriages, 343.
Ship in distress, 159.
Shouldering, 326.
Shows, in taverns, 28.
Shrewsbury, Mass., tavern talk at, 172;
taverns at, 291 _et seq._
Shuffle-board, forbidden, 5.
Sign-boards, in early ordinaries, 19-20;
use of, 138 _et seq._;
materials of, 138;
in business, 138-139;
incongruity of, 139 _et seq._;
on bridges, 238-239.
Sign-posts, established, 138.
Sikes. _See_ Sykes.
Silent Woman, 162.
Singing, forbidden, 4.
Skidding, 327.
Skinners, 377.
Slat sign, 149.
Sledding, 313.
Sledges, transportation by, 241, 283.
Sleeping accommodations, 77-79, 318.
Slide-groat, forbidden, 5.
Sling, 104.
Small drink, described, 121.
Smith, Adam, on smuggling, 373.
Smoking-tongs, 46.
Snake heads, 286.
Sniggers and Vesta's Gap, turnpike to, 232.
Snow-shoes, post on, 275;
mail carried on, 297.
Sons of Liberty, 37, 173.
South Kingston, R. I., shift manages at, 373.
Southworth, Constant, wine seller, 63.
Sowrings, 117-118.
_Spectator_, 140.
Spike team, 314.
Sports of the innyards, 5.
Sprague, Francis, ordinary-keeper, 64.
Springfield, Mass., fare at, 88.
Spruce, beer of, 122-123.
Stadt Harberg, 33.
Stage, use of word, 265-267.
Stage-chair, 278.
Stage-chaise, 261.
Stage-chariot, 261.
Stage-coaches, of year 1828, 218;
in England, 255, 274;
in Boston and Rhode Island, 260-261;
in Pennsylvania, 263;
of year 1818, 263-264;
application of word, 265;
in Pennsylvania, 268;
rates on, 270, 273;
rates in England, 271;
from Portsmouth, 278 _et seq._;
sights from, 345 _et seq._;
courtship on, 359-360.
Stage-drivers, 323;
characteristics of, 324 _et seq._;
dress of, 325-326;
shopping done by, 328;
drinking habits of, 328;
names of, 332;
on railroads, 387;
tales of, 341.
Stage-lists, 273.
Stage-men's Ball, 336.
Stage-wagons, in England, 251, 255;
out of Boston, 261;
in Pennsylvania, 262, 268.
Stamp Act, 37.
Stark, General, victory of, 205.
State House Inn, Philadelphia, 55.
Stavers Coaching Line, 278 _et seq._
Stavers Inn, 175-178, 278-279.
Stickney Tavern, sign-board of, 203.
St. John's Lodge, 204.
Stocks, use of, 8, 215.
"Stogies," 245-246.
Stone wall, 130.
Stow, quoted, 253.
Stratford, Conn., milestone at, 353.
Stratton, Arad, tavern of, 151.
Streets, naming of, 138.
Strong waters, selling prohibited, 4.
Struggling Man, 161-162.
Stuart, Gilbert, sign-board by, 145.
Stuyvesant, Governor, laws of, 34.
Sudbury, Mass., tavern at, 43, 180, 371.
Suicides, burial of, 344.
Sumner, Charles, quoted, 369.
Sun-line house, 46.
Suspension Bridge, 230.
Swift, Dean, quoted, 132, 266.
"Swiftnicks," 398.
Switchel, 132.
Sykes Coffee-house, 300.
Sykes, Reuben, 293 _et seq._, 300.
Talleyrand, at tavern, 181.
Tally, forbidden, 5.
Tally-ho, use of word, 266.
Tap-houses, New York, 34-35.
Taproom rhymes, 45.
Taprooms, 19, 42 _et seq._
Tar-bucket. _See_ Tar-lodel.
Tar-lodel, 246-247.
Tarleton Arms, 310.
Tarleton Inn, story of, 309-310;
sign-board of, 310, 312.
Tarleton, Wm., 309-310.
Tavern behind Nazareth, 57.
Taverns, use of word, 30;
in Southern colonies, 30 _et seq._;
establishment of laws about, 31, 34-35;
prices at, 31, 42, 118, 177-178;
names of rooms in, 17;
in New Netherlands, 33 _et seq._;
names of, 35;
as war rendezvous, 172;
as auction rooms, 197;
as business exchanges, 198;
as insurance offices, 198;
as jails, 212, 303;
on Albany Turnpike, 235;
in Scotland, 283.
Also see names of Towns and Ordinaries.
Taylor, M. M., milestone of, 351;
tavern of, 352.
Taylor, the Water Poet, quoted, 255.
Taylorsville, Penn., bridge sign-board at, 239.
Teamsters, 249.
Thackeray, W. M., cited, 322.
Thief Detecting Societies, 393.
Thieves, band of, 388 _et seq._
Thomas' Exchange Coffee-house, 300.
Thorburn, Grant, quoted, 72-73, 362-363.
Three Broiled Chickens, 183.
Three Crowns, Lancaster, Penn., 143-144.
Three Jolly Sailors, 158.
Three Loggerheads, 142.
Throat-lashing, 327.
Tipping, 326.
Tippling-houses, 31.
Tithing-man, duties of, 9.
Tobacco, restrictions on use of, 12-13;
as payment, 31;
drawers for, 45.
Toby Fillpots, 134.
Todd, Margaret, 40.
Todd, Robert, 39-40.
Toddy, derivation of word, 39-40;
made of rum, 104;
price of, 178.
Toddy-stick, description of, 114.
Toll-boards, 237, 238.
Toll-gates, on Mohawk Turnpike, 237.
Tolls, rates of 237-238;
commuted, 298.
Tontine Association, 37.
Topsfield Bridge, 356.
"Towelling," 327.
Transportation, by water, 241;
on horse-back, 241 _et seq._
Travelling-bags, 331.
Trenton, N. J., tavern fare at, 83, 84;
bridge at, 230.
Trout, boiled, 89.
Troy coaches, 269.
Trunks, old time, 330.
Tryer, on punch, 114.
"Tuck-a-nuck," 317.
Tufts, Henry, story of, 375 _et seq._
Turkey-shoot, 207-209.
Turnpikes, 231 _et seq._, 297 _et seq._;
in Scotland, 284, 297;
profits on, 297;
desertion of, 297.
Turnspit dogs, 55-56.
Turtle, as gifts, 90.
Turtle-feasts, 90.
Tuttle, Sarah, love-making of, 216-217.
Twining, Thomas, quoted, 263, 326, 367.
Twist, slang term, 142.
Twitchell, Ginery, career of, 301 _et seq._;
coach of, 303;
description of, 304;
makes election returns, 304;
obtains mail contracts, 305.
Tyler, Royall, 207.
Union Place Hotel, New York, fare at, 88.
Vardy, Luke, 204.
Veazie Road, 286.
Vendues, at coffee-houses, 49, 197;
at taverns, 219;
of thieves, 220;
of paupers, 221 _et seq._
Victuallyng-house, 2.
Virginia, ordinaries in, 30 _et seq._;
metheglin in, 125.
Wadsworth Inn, Springfield, 43-44.
Wagons, going to Ohio, 235 _et seq._;
in England, 250;
rates on, 271;
in New England, 312-315.
Walker's Tavern, 154, 162.
Wall decorations, 42.
Walnut tree chips, beer from, 123.
Walpole, N. H., literary life in, 205-207.
Wanmanitt, trial of, 341.
Wardwell, John, stage-coach line of, 260-261.
Wardwell, Lydia, whipped, 217.
Warning out of town, 4.
Warren, General, at tavern, 181.
Warwick, R. I., stocks at, 215;
chariot at, 258-259.
Washington bowers, 156.
Washington Crossing the Delaware, 149.
Washington, George, at Boston, 84;
farewell to army, 184;
at taverns, 195, 293, 300-301;
news of death, 278.
Washington Tavern, Lancaster, Penn., 73;
Philadelphia, Penn., 149, 154;
Westfield, Mass., 42;
Holmesburgh, Penn., 148-149;
Wilbraham, Mass., 196.
Washingtonian Reform, 127.
Watch. _See_ Night-watch.
Water, travel by, 241.
Water-cider, 130.
Watering-troughs, 354-356.
Waterloo Tavern, Lancaster, Penn., 143-144.
Watson, quoted, 147, 256.
Wayside Inn, 43, 180, 292, 371.
Webster, Daniel, cited, 182;
at taverns, 195-196.
Weddings, at ordinary, 5.
Weed, Thurlow, quoted, 79.
Weld, quoted, 257, 367.
Weller, Tony, quoted, 290.
Wells' Tavern, sign-board of, 382.
West, Benjamin, sign-boards by, 143 _et seq._
Westborough, Mass., tavern at, 136.
West Boston Bridge, 230.
Westfield, Mass., tavern at, 42.
Whig Tavern, 205.
Whip, of Conestoga teamsters, 248;
of stage-drivers, 334.
Whipping-post, 215-216.
Whirlicote, 253.
Whiskey, described, 258.
Whistle-belly-vengeance, 132.
White, Captain, keeps ordinary, 3.
White, George, exploits of, 390 _et seq._
Whitestown mail stages, 236.
Whittier, quoted, 188.
Wickford, R. I., tavern at, 45.
Wilder, Joseph, cider of, 128.
Willet, Edward, 35.
Williams, Roger, quoted, 128.
Williams Tavern, sign-board of, 152-153.
Wilson, Richard, sign-board by, 142.
Wines, in Virginia, 32;
prices of, 88-89.
Winn, John, home of, 182 _et seq._
Winn, Joseph, in Revolution, 183.
Winne, the penny-post, bravery of, 399-400.
Winter, coach travel in, 362 _et seq._
Winthrop, John, on a disturbance in Boston, 10-11;
on health-drinking, 15;
quoted, 115;
pick-a-back, 224.
Winthrop, John, Jr., owns a coach, 256;
sends letters, 274.
Wolcott, Governor, apples planted by, 125.
Wolcott, Oliver, at tavern, 186.
Wolfe, General, sign-board of, 145, 211.
Wolfe Tavern, Brooklyn, Conn., 145;
Boston, Mass., 145;
Newburyport, Mass., 145;
sign-board of, 211;
bill of, 177.
Wolf-rout, 210.
Women, as tavern-keepers, 20, 40;
burned at stake, 218;
on horse-back, 226;
in stage-coaches, 369;
as highway robbers, 408;
hanged in Boston, 408.
Woodbury, Bartholomew, 351.
Woodbury Tavern, milestone at, 351.
Woodman Tavern, 155.
Woodside, sign-boards by, 148.
Woodward, James, punished, 8, 215.
Worcester, Mass., singing at, 173;
milestone in, 350-351.
Wright, Robert, punished, 8.
Wright Tavern, 179.
Yale College, cider at, 126.
Yard of Flannel, 111.
Yellow Cat, 163.
Yellow Cottage, 155-157.
York, Me., sign-board at, 172;
road at, 224.
York County, Penn., tavern rates in, 105.
Zinzendorf, Count, night-watch rhymes of, 59 _et seq._
HOME LIFE IN COLONIAL DAYS
By ALICE MORSE EARLE
Illustrated by photographs, gathered by the author, of real things, works,
and happenings of the olden times
Crown 8vo. Cloth. Gilt top. $2.50
The Mail and Express:
"The volume is unique; nothing quite like it has ever been attempted
before. The result is a valuable as well as an entertaining work. It is
full of information, much of it curious, and all of importance to one who
desires to know how his forefathers lived."
The Dial:
"The work is mainly and essentially an antiquarian account of the tools,
implements, and utensils, as well as the processes of colonial domestic
industry; and it is full enough to serve as a moderate encyclopaedia in
that kind.... This useful and attractive book, with its profuse and
interesting pictures, its fair typography, and its quaint binding,
imitative of an old-time sampler, should prove a favorite."
Education:
"Mrs. Earle has made a very careful study of the details of domestic life
from the earliest days of the settlement of the country. The book is
sumptuously illustrated, and every famed article, such as the
spinning-wheel, the foot-stone, the brass knocker on the door, and the
old-time cider mill, is here presented to the eye, and faithfully pictured
in words. The volume is a fascinating one, and the vast army of admirers
and students of the olden days will be grateful to the author for
gathering together and putting into permanent form so much accurate
information concerning the homes of our ancestors."
Literature:
"Mrs. Earle's fidelity in study and her patient research are evident on
every page of this charming book, and her pleasantly colloquial style is
frequently assisted by very beautiful illustrations, both of the houses of
the colonists, from the primitive cave dug-out of the hillside and made to
answer for warmth and shelter, to the more comfortable log cabin, the
farmstead with its adjacent buildings, and the stately mansion abiding to
our own day."
CHILD LIFE IN COLONIAL DAYS
By ALICE MORSE EARLE
_Profusely Illustrated_
Crown 8vo. Cloth. Gilt top. $2.50
Commercial Advertiser:
"Once more Mrs. Earle has drawn on her apparently inexhaustible store of
colonial lore, and has produced another interesting book of the olden
days.... Mrs. Earle's interesting style, the accuracy of her statements,
and the attractive illustrations she always supplies for her books make
the volume one to be highly prized."
Buffalo Express:
"Mrs. Alice Morse Earle performs a real historical service, and writes an
interesting book. It is not a compilation from, or condensation of,
previous books, but the fruit of personal and original investigation into
the conditions of life in the American colonies."
American Hebrew:
"Alice Morse Earle has written much to place us in intimate knowledge with
the life of old America. The most charming volume of all, however, is her
latest, 'Child Life in Colonial Days.'"
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK
Transcriber's Notes:
Passages in italics are indicated by _italics_.
Superscripted characters are indicated by {superscript}.
End of Project Gutenberg's Stage-coach and Tavern Days, by Alice Morse Earle