USA > Connecticut > In olde Connecticut; being a record of quaint, curious and romantic happenings there in colonial times and later > Part 7
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Many marvelous tales and legends of these free- booters still linger about the coast, and eerie sights still continue to be seen by the credulous fisher- "men. In the dead of night ghostly companies land upon the island, seek some secluded dell, and fall to digging with spade and pickax, but in the morning when the fisherman seeks the spot no trace of their labors is seen, and frequently spectral vessels, with low, black hulls, tapering masts, and everything, "as they sailed, as they sailed, " under Captain Kidd, are seen flying down the Sound amid the scud and drift of the depart- ing easterly storms. There are persons who sneer at these tales, and even of the existence of the pirates themselves as mere figments of the imagi- nation, and who would rob Captain Kidd of his glory by making him out a mere thievish landsman who was in the habit of putting out from the shore in a whaleboat occasionally and capturing such unfortunate coasters as came in his way. But these gentlemen forget the large mass of doc- umentary evidence against their view of the mat- ter, which if gathered together might make some interesting annals of piracy. It is doubtful if they ever met with the following paper, which I copy from the records of a meeting of the Governor
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and Council at Hartford in 1682, and which is the earliest authentic document that I have seen proving the existence of pirates on this coast, although there may be earlier. It is addressed to the above-named body by Daniel Wetherell, of New London:
"NEW LONDON, July 25, 1682.
"Hon'd Sir: Thse may inform your honor that lately arrived at East hampton on Longe Island a Catch and 2 small Sloops with about 30 or 40 privateers or rather pirates; one of the sloops laye some time at Plum Island when 5 of her men left her and came hither, the rest went for the Bay Colonie, and at Nantasket met with more of their companions and gave chase to a sloop of Mr. Isaac Arnold's yt was bound to Virginia and took her with a thousand pound cargo as he informs me; the Ketch was about 130 tunn which they made sale of at East hampton to one Hutchinson of Bostone, and with part of the money bought an- other sloop of Capt. Hubbard of the same place; which came over to this harbor pretending to buy some provisions, but bought not any only a little bread. I doe suppose they intend to supply them- selves by piracy. The next day after they were
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gone I received the enclosed, which gives account of the third small sloop by the Governor of Rhode Island, since which here arrived Mr. Jonas Clarke "bound to Southold to put Mr. Arnold ashore there, and from thence to Connecticut, who was chased by that privateer that went out of this harbor and lyes still about Fisher's Iland and Gardiner's Iland; but they were too nimble for ye privateers and came into this harbor where they desired some men and arms to secure them, having as they said a very considerable cargo on board. . Sir, my humble desire is that your Honor with your Honored Councell would please to inform me what to do in these exigincys for they are yet waiting for to take all they can mas- ter, being well armed and fitted with granadas for the work. I earnestly beg your Hon'rs advice in this weighty concern wherein men's lives and es- tates are daily in hazard, and shall wait for an answer from your Hon'r and Councell. Mean- while shall rest your Hon'rs humble servant to be commanded.
"DANIEL WETHERELL.
"A Catch of Mr. Raymand's coming from Vir- ginia was spoken with off Block Island eight days
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since; is not yet arrived; we fear she is taken by some of these Rogues."
Lying in the path of all the commerce of the Sound, Fisher's Island is the dread of mariners; its swift currents, shoals and bars, sunken reefs and cruel ledges of rock, combine to render it the Sable Island of the Sound. Race Point, on the western end of the island, and Race Rock, a short distance southwest, marked by a spindle, have been most prolific of shipwrecks.
A list of the disasters that have occurred here would form a long chapter of accidents. The English ship "John and Lucy, " lost here in 1671, and the bark "Providence, " lost November 28th, 1679, were the earliest victims. The first vessel sent out from New London on a whaling voyage was lost here January 13, 1735, and in 1775 a ship sent in by Captain Biddle as a prize met here the same fate. But the most notable wreck, and one no doubt vividly remembered by many read- ers, was that of the steamboat "Atlantic, " which went ashore on the rocks a little east of Race Point on the night of the 27th of November, 1846. The "Atlantic" was one of a line of steamboats plying between Norwich and New York. On the
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27th of November she was on her passage to New York, and had just passed the mouth of New London Harbor, when she was disabled by the breaking of a part of her machinery. A heavy sea was running at the time, and the swift cur- rents carried her upon the rocks of Fisher's Island and pounded her to pieces in a short time. Forty- two persons perished in this catastrophe. The disaster occasioned as much horror and excitement in the public mind as the more recent burning of the "Narragansett." New London soon after- ward raised a stately monument of granite to the memory of the lost (more particularly to the Wal- ton family, father, mother and three children, all of whom perished in the wreck, though their bod- ies were recovered), and Mrs. Sigourney, who was then living in Norwich, and some of whose friends were among the lost, further commemorated the event by her beautiful dirge, "The Bell of the Wreck "-familiar to all schoolboys from its popu- larity with the compilers of school readers. The Government has since erected a lighthouse on one of the hummocks or islets of the Sound near the scene of the disaster.
CHAPTER IX
THE FROGS OF WINDHAM
I
'T is difficult for one who lingers in summer days on the beautiful village green of Wind- ham, where evidences of wealth, comfort and plenty confront him on every side, to bring back the scenes and conditions of that far-off year, 1754, which made possible the curious incident we are about to describe.
It was the night of June 17, 1754, that the grewsome, grotesque circumstance occurred. The green was as fresh and vivid in coloring, the elms arched as gracefully, the stream from the pond broke over its barriers and flowed away under the rustic bridge as murmuringly then as now, but in the minds of the people there was sad foreboding and expectation of the momentary outbreak of a savage foe. It was the eve of one of the bloodiest of the French and Indian wars. Windham County had special reason for fearing vengeance, since, in acquiring some parts of her recent Sus-
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quehanna purchase, the Indians were known to have been aggrieved and wronged. Goodman White's negro slave Pomp was the first to expe- rience the terrors of the night. Having lingered until a late hour beside a dusky Phyllis in one of the outlying farmhouses, he at length started to return to the village, a Voodoo charm about his neck and a horseshoe in his hand as a protection against spooks. The night was still, misty, and intensely dark. Pomp went his way whistling, his fears equally divided between the insubstan- tial ghost and the more material Mohawk. He had reached the green, when all at once a dire uproar burst upon him. Roar, bellow, gabble, shriek, splash, gurgle, were combined, and the sounds came from everywhere at once-above, below, on this side and that, from field, and pond, and forest. To say that Pomp fled, and shrieked, and prayed, conveys no idea of the celerity of his flight nor the intensity of his groans and supplica- tions. But before he could reach the center of the green, chamber windows were thrown open, nightcapped heads were thrust forth, and femi- nine shrieks and the strong cries of men added to the uproar; many swooned; the stronger fled as they were to the village green, where they
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huddled in a little group, every eye upturned to see through the murky gloom the glory of the opening heavens and the awful visage of the de- scending Judge. In that company not one but believed that the last great day was at hand. But the levin-stroke of judgment failed to come, and soon the thought came to the stronger minds that the uproar was of terrestrial origin, and attributa- ble to savage foes. Peering into the darkness, and shrinking from the possible deadly tomahawk, they waited and watched. At length they heard, amid the general babel, distinct articulations which gradually resolved themselves into the names of two of Windham's most prominent citi- zens-Colonel Dyer, the agent, and Squire Elder- kin, one of the trustees of the Susquehanna Com- pany. " We'll have Colonel Dyer! We'll have Colonel Dyer! We'll have Colonel Dyer!" the mysterious voices declared; and "Elderkin too!" "Elderkin too!" "Elderkin too!" an equally mysterious chorus repeated; not a person but trembled for the fate of those two strong pillars of the commonwealth. The words "tete," "tete," which followed, were construed as meaning that the investing force was disposed to treat, but as nothing could be done in the darkness, the af-
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frighted people contented themselves with placing a line of sentries around the town, and then with- drew to their homes.
So in fear, doubt, distress, speculation, the fate- ful night wore away. Morning broke, and never, it is safe to say, was light welcomed with more hearty accord than by the good people of Wind- ham.
Hours passed but no savage army appeared, nor was any cause of the strange voices of the night discoverable, and the occurrence would, no doubt, have been added to the long list of super- natural events detailed in Cotton Mather's Won- der Book had not Pomp, watering his master's horses at the pond next morning, discovered mul- titudes of frogs lying dead and blackened in the water. Then it came as a revelation to the people of Windham that an army of frogs, smitten with some deadly epidemic, or, perhaps, attacked by some invading army, had produced the affrighting sounds. The revulsion of feeling, it is said, was great; the whole village assumed a sheepish air. Somehow, too, the story got abroad, and brought a ripple of laughter to the face of the whole county. Everybody was disposed to regard the experience of that terrible night as a rich joke. Gibes, puns,
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lampoons, ditties, proverbs, were rained on the unfortunate Windamites. Even the clergymen poked fun, as the following letter from the Rev. Mr. Stiles of Woodstock, to his nephew, a law student, abundantly shows. It is dated at Wood- stock, July 9, 1754, and proceeds:
"If the late tragical tidings from Windham de- serve credit, as doubtless they do, it will then concern the gentlemen of your Jurispritian order to be fortified against the croaks of Tauranean legions-legions terrible as the very wreck of mat- ter and the crash of worlds. Antiquity relates that the elephant fears the mouse; a herd trembles at the crowing of a cock; but pray whence is it that the croaking of a bullfrog should so Belthaz- zarize a lawyer? How Dyerful the alarm made by these audacious long-winded croakers. I hope, sir, from the Dyerful reports from the frog pond you will gain some instruction, as well as from the reports of my Lord Coke."
CHAPTER X
LEBANON, THE HOME OF JONATHAN TRUMBULL
T HIS old town well illustrates the historical importance of the average rural New Eng- land village, once, maybe, the theater of inspiring events, but which the shifting currents of trade have left far inland, as it were, to retain and treas- ure up what it has received. The atmosphere of the town is as dreamy as that of the Lotos Isles. The ashes of the past here rest undisturbed. Rusty flintlock and dented sword blade, quaint old china, letters of famous men breathing faintly of lavender and camphor, scented garments of an- other age, rest secure from the collector's rage and the golden shekels of the dealer in antiques. One is surprised to find what stores of history are locked up in the town. It was, as remarked, the birth- place and home of Jonathan Trumbull, the "war Governor" of Connecticut. His "war office," the true base of supplies for the Continental armies, stood here. William Williams, signer of
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the Declaration of Independence, lived in a corner house on the village street. The Duke de Lau- zun's legion of the French army went into winter quarters here in 1779, and pretty much all the famous men of the Revolution, at one time and another, have threaded its streets. Never was a people more steeped in tradition and historic lore than the villagers. They imbibe it with their na- tive air and impart it as freely as it is received.
Governor Trumbull, is of course, the chief fig- ure in the village gossip. He was Governor of Connecticut from 1770 to 1784, and held his court in the village. He was a Judge before he was Governor, Senator and Deputy before he was Judge, and a merchant before he was either. To give his mercantile career in detail would be to open up all the methods and channels of colonial commerce. He had a store and warehouse at Haddam, on the Connecticut, another at Norwich, and ships on every sea where the jealous policy of England allowed the colonies an entrance. His most extensive trade was with the West Indies. Connecticut was then purely agricultural, and the fields and forests of Windham county produced cattle, horses, sheep, grain, salted provisions and the like in great abundance, all of which found a
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ready sale on the plantation. These Trumbull collected and sent in great wagon-trains to Had- dam or Norwich, whence his swift ships bore them to the Indies, receiving in return sugar, mo- lasses, salt, rum, cotton, wool and other com- modities. He had also several ships trading to London, and sent hither in addition to the crude products of the soil, furs, skins, whale-oil, whale · fins, flax, hemp, potash, tar, turpentine, fish, cider and perry. The articles that he received in return were intended chiefly for the use of his fair country- women; many of their descendants of the present day I imagine would be puzzled to determine the nature and use of these articles from a mere men- tion of them. Here is a list taken from one of his invoices of about 1742: "Scarlet cloaks, scar- let caps, scarlet calimancoes, black leather and morocco clogs, drugget, rich black serges, rich black-spotted grogatoons, broad knee-gartering, calicoes, muslins, cambrics, canvas, kerseys, lin- ens, duffels, grograms, hose, silk gloves, crape, satin, lace, thread, galloons, sorted velvet masks, lawns, checks, ribbons, fans and taffetas, colored Brussels camlets, women's stuffed shoes, flowered silk shoes and clogs, and glasses in walnut, shell, mahogany and japanned frames."
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By 1763 our merchant had become rich. He owned a fine old roomy mansion on the village _ main street, a store, gristmill, and several farms in Lebanon, wharves and warehouses at Haddam and Norwich, and argosies enough upon the seas to swell the inventory of his estate to £18,000. It is a striking instance of the simplicity of the times as well as of his own powers of body and mind that to the busy career of the merchant he added the cares of such public offices as Senator of the colony and Judge of the Superior Court, besides serving on several commissions of grave importance. But still more arduous services were in store for him. In 1769 the unanimous voice of the freedmen made him Governor of the sturdy little colony, and he was still Governor when on that April morning in 1775 Trail Bissel, spurring down from Watertown, roused every country ham- let with his news of Lexington. Never was busier man than Trumbull for the next few weeks. The gossips give a graphic picture of him at this time. From morning till night he was at his store, now turned into a supplies depot; hat, coat and vest off, gray hair floating in the breeze, dealing out tents and rations to the militia that came pouring in, packing great wagons with clothing, provisions
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and powder, for the newly-formed camps at Bos- ton, reading and answering dispatches brought by breathless messengers from captains of trainbands and selectmen of the various towns, while every now and then a village trainband or militia com- pany would march in with fanfare of drum and fife, salute him and be dismissed to the seat of war with well-chosen words of encouragement. From this time on until the close of the struggle the little store became the theater of the intensest military activity. It is as historic in its way as Faneuil Hall or the State House at Philadelphia.
Nearly all the 719 meetings of the Connecticut Governor and Council during the war were held here. Here Washington, Adams, Hancock, Jef- ferson, Putnam, Greene, Rochambeau and others met at different times to consult on the affairs of the country. Here was conceived and per- fected that admirable system of espionage and detection which preserved Connecticut from the horrors of civil war. It was the birthplace, too, of those audacious privateers, the "Spy," the "Cromwell," the "Trumbull," and others, that scoured the Sound and discovered such an affinity for the fat storeships of the enemy; and from its doors those long supply trains and droves of fat
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beeves, guided by Colonel Champion, of happy memory, set out for Valley Forge and Morris- town. This historic building was a little one- story structure, with an old-fashioned hipped roof and central chimney stack, and divided within into two apartments-one filled with the miscel- laneous articles of a country store and an inner apartment used as a counting room. It is still standing, though removed from its ancient site and fitted up for a tenement.
But this is drifting into serious history when the main object was to present some of the gos- sipy anecdotes that are so marked a feature of the village life. Two or three that follow are only for purposes of illustration. One day, in the December of 1780, Lauzun's Legion of Hussars came riding into the town. They were a splendid body of men, every one above the regulation standard of six feet, and all mounted on horses gayly caparisoned. The officers were young " no- bles" of France, and resplendent in the blue and gold of the French uniform. At their head rode the Duke de Lauzun, his breast sparkling with orders, in appearance worthy to be the leader of such a legion. Rochambeau had designated Leba- non as their winter quarters, and they were soon
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in camp-the men in barracks on the village green, the officers in the homes of the villagers, and Lauzun in the house of Colonel David Trum- bull, the Governor's son, which stood directly opposite the gubernatorial residence. They re- mained in the village seven months. Once during the winter the dull routine of the camp was broken by the news that General Washington was close . at hand. He was then on his way to Newport to meet Rochambeau, and came to Lebanon as the guest of the Governor. Lauzun ordered a grand review of the legion in his honor, on which occa- sion the Hussars displayed the perfection of mili- tary discipline. They charged, wheeled and de- ployed, broke ranks and reformed, waved their colors, bared their sabers, and fired their carbines amid torrents of applause from the multitudes that gathered to witness the grand affair. The reviewing party made a pretty bit of color. There were Washington and his escort in full uniform- blue, buff-lined coats, buff vests, buff breeches buckled at the knees, and long spurred boots; Lauzun and his staff in blue and gold, epauleted, their breasts glittering with jeweled insignia; and Governor Trumbull and his suite in the crimson, broad-flapped coats, embroidered vests, and vel-
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vet small-clothes that formed the dress of the ci- vilian of that period. It was a grand affair, and its memory will never fade from the village. The presence of the mercurial Frenchmen gave to the town this winter the gayety of a provincial capi- tal. The young nobles were not slow in discov- ering the attractions of the "fair Connecticut girls" (as one of their number styled them in a letter which I should like to print entire if space permitted). Sleigh rides, dancing parties, tea par- ties, and dinner entertainments kept the village in a whirl of excitement the winter through. Once the officers rode down to Norwich to a grand din- ner at General Jedediah Huntington's, and won the hearts of all the village maidens by their splen- did uniforms and superb bearing. Governor Trumbull and the neighboring gentry and the Duke gave many entertainments. One of the grandest of these was a dinner given by the Duke in honor of two distinguished officers of the French army-the Marquis de Chastellux and the Baron de Montesquieu-the latter a grandson of the famous sage of Brede. Governor Trumbull was, of course, invited. When the guests were all seated at table-most of them being gay, skep- tical French officers-the Governor arose and
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pronounced a long and formal grace to the no little astonishment of his fellow guests. It was the Puritan custom, and the good old methodical chief magistrate could not depart from it. The incident produced such an impression on De Chas- tellux that he recorded it in his volume of travels.
It was not all merrymaking, however. In the depth of winter news came that the army was suf- fering terribly, especially for clothing, and so the good Governor, as he had done before, ordered .that contributions for their relief should be taken on Sunday in the various churches. On the day appointed the little village church at Lebanon was crowded, and in their stiff, straight backed pew sat the Governor and Madam Trumbull-the lat- ter wearing a beautiful scarlet cloak, the gift, it is said, of Rochambeau himself. The Governor's call was read, and in the hush that followed Madam Trumbull arose, proceeded to the altar, and laid on it the scarlet cloak as her contribution to the cause. Such an example could not but be contagious. Rings, brooches, chains, purses, and cloaks from the women, greatcoats, caps, mittens, stockings, boots, money and provisions from the men were rained upon the altar, and the poor sol- diers reaped a rich harvest from the generous act.
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CHAPTER XI
MOUNT TOM, A HAUNTED HILL
TT is not long since the public was kept for I weeks on the rack of expectation by a moun- tain in the Carolinas, yclept Bald Mountain, which after hundreds of years of unbroken seren- ity suddenly assumed a disturbed aspect. Deep in its bowels unearthly moanings and mutterings were heard. Great bowlders were seen to start and roll from summit to base without apparent cause; fissures in its sides, and tremors and shak- ings in the surrounding country, seemed to imply the presence of volcanic force, and the tidings flashed over the wires that the country was about to acquire a promising volcano excited the live- liest expectations in every patriotic breast. Eager gentlemen of the press at once rushed to the mountain that the public might be presented with its every succeeding phase, as well as with a vivid description of the final catastrophe. A railroad thither was projected, and contracts entered into
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for building inns and boarding houses to accom- modate prospective sightseers. So far, however, the mountain has disappointed expectations, and if the scientific men are correct, will continue to do so.
But a stranger fact is that, all unknown to the public, there is in Connecticut, scarcely three hours by rail from New York, a mountain that far surpasses its Carolinian rival in all that makes the latter famous. This mountain is known as Mount Tom, and is in the township of East Had- dam, on the Connecticut River, about sixteen miles above Saybrook Point, and not more than half that distance from the city of Middletown; it is easily accessible from Saybrook, Middletown and Hartford by the Valley Railroad and also by the steamboats that ply on the Connecticut River. By the railroad one stops at Tylerville, where a primitive scow propelled by a two-man power ferries one across the river to Goodspeed's. The steamboats stop at both Goodspeed's and East Haddam landings.
The mountain itself rises about two and one- half miles north of the village of East Haddam, and is in shape something like an elongated sugar loaf; there are outcroppings of the granitic for-
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mation peculiar to this region, on its surface, and · it is covered with a small growth of chestnut, oak and maple, whose dark green foliage, when I visited it, was beginning to give place to the russet, crimson and gold of early autumn. The Salmon and the Moodus Rivers flow together at its west- ern base, first compassing the mountain on two sides; the average rise and fall of the tide here is two feet. At the base of the mountain, on one side, is the pretty factory village of Moodus, vocal with the hum of ten thousand spindles; on the other is a cove and dock, whence a little steam- boat accomplishes weekly trips to New York; north and east stretches a cultivated country with many a village and hamlet snugly nestled in its bosom.
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