CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH HOME OF NATHANIEL TAYLOR. JR. HOME OF REV. NATHANIEL TAYLOR. Gen. LaFayette lodged here for a night Count Rochambeau spent a night here during the Revolution during the RevolutionCONGREGATIONAL CHURCHHOME OF NATHANIEL TAYLOR. JR.Gen. LaFayette lodged here for a nightduring the RevolutionHOME OF REV. NATHANIEL TAYLOR.Count Rochambeau spent a night hereduring the Revolution during the Revolution
One of the brightest spots in New Milford history is the patriotism the town has shown through all its generations. This sentiment seems to have been a perennial spring in the hearts of the inhabitants, ready to burst out into action whenever a crisis arose.
The long list of soldiers in the wars is proof of this. The War of the Revolution called out a host of brave men from New Milford. Not less patriotic was the minister, Rev. Nathaniel Taylor. He had long before served as chaplain in the French and Indian War, and, in 1779, he remitted his entire salary to alleviate the suffering caused by the war. It is inspiring to read that in this same year the county treasurer at Litchfield received the sum of ninety-four pounds sixteen shillings, by the hand of Col. Samuel Canfield—money contributed by the first Ecclesiastical Society of New Milford, for the relief of the distressed inhabitants of the towns of New Haven, Fairfield, and Norwalk.
The actual conflict came no nearer than Danbury. A large number of our citizens participated in that battle. The sending out of troops, and the mourning in many households for those who did not return, must have kept the war very near to the hearts of all the inhabitants of the town. Furthermore, the presence of three brigades (nearly 5000 men) in camp on Second Hill, for nearly a month in the autumn of 1778, brought the war atmosphere almost to their very doors.
Once during the war Lafayette and Rochambeau were entertained over night here; Rochambeau, at the home of Rev. Nathaniel Taylor, north of the present Congregational Church, and Lafayette, at the house of the son of Rev. Nathaniel, Nathaniel, Jr., south of the church.
There was a pretty romance of the war here also. Major Jones of Virginia, in charge of the commissary stores kept here the summer after the burning of Danbury, fell in love with pretty Tamar Taylor, the minister’s daughter. We have the story from Mrs. Helen Carr, the granddaughter of Tamar Taylor, as she heard it from the lips of her grandmother. The Major’s affection seems to have been returned, but her parentsfrowned upon the affair for the sole reason that they could never let their daughter go to that far country—Virginia. The wooer was said to be “a very fine man, who won golden opinions from everyone,” the question of distance being the only obstacle to parental consent.
Four years later Major Jones wrote to Daniel Everett of New Milford, his sweetheart’s brother-in-law and his near friend, from Yorktown, during the siege, shortly before the surrender of Cornwallis. Even that exciting and arduous time seems not to have made him forget the young lady, for he says: “She is never out of my mind, though it seems Fortune has not been so favorable as to allot us to the possession of each other in this short transitory life, or if she has, parents seem to clash.... I wish I had time to write you fully on a subject that floats in my head, the last when I go to bed and the first when I awake, but must omit it till a future opportunity.”
After the war was over and the country had become settled, Major Jones, with his body servant, journeyed on horseback from his Virginia home to New Milford; but the journey was in vain, and he went sorrowfully home alone. Pretty Temmie Taylor seems not to have been inconsolable, for she was happily married later to the Hon. Nicholas Masters of this place. Mrs. Carr still cherishes the ring and locket given her grandmother by the earlier lover; and when we touched the ancient tokens, the long years fell away, and we, too, seemed to live in the love story of olden time.
New Milford was on one of the regular post roads from Philadelphia to Boston, and, if the old highways could speak, they might tell many stories of distinguished men who have travelled over them. We read in the letters of John Adams of his going through this town on his way to the Congress in Philadelphia. During the war there was frequent passing through the place of both British and Continental troops.
When the war was over there was still further expression of the patriotic sentiments of the people in a vote “that none of those persons who have voluntarily gone over and joinedthe enemy, shall be suffered to abide and continue in the town during the present situation of our public affairs.” A committee was appointed to carry out these resolutions, with the result that several never came back, and their lands were confiscated by the State.
We learn of much pleasant social life in the peaceful days following the war. There were the “assemblies.” An invitation card for one of these functions is for “Friday Evening, July third next, at six o’clock.” What would the young people of our day think of that? Another is for a “Quarter Ball, at Mr. G. Booth’s Assembly Room, on June 3d at three o’clock, P. M.”! In winter there were merry sleighing parties to neighboring towns. Often large companies in twenty or thirty sleighs enjoyed an early supper together, getting safely home before ten o’clock.
Afternoon teas were frequent; not like yours, dear up-to-date woman of to-day, but “tea-drinkings,” where the women took their knitting work and spent long afternoons in visiting. Mrs. Nathaniel Taylor had on one occasion such a company. The parson, in his study overhead, was greatly interested in the fragments of conversation that floated up to him. Each woman had some exciting tale of her domestic experiences to relate. One quiet sister, unable to hold her own in the babel of tongues, tried again and again to tell her story, beginning, “My goose——.” But each time the quiet voice was drowned, and the story never proceeded further.
When good Parson Taylor was summoned to the tea table he said: “Ladies, I have been so interested in your conversation, I thought it worth preserving. So I wrote it down and will read it to you.” Great was the amusement when he read the persistent efforts of their friend to tell the story of “My Goose.” After all, human nature is much the same in all generations.
The town enjoyed in the old days quite a reputation for good living, and many were the notable feasts cooked over the great fireplaces and in the huge brick ovens before the days of stoves and ranges. What an amount of seasoned hickory logswent up the chimney in smoke to cook them! Forty cords of wood, the record gives, as one item of the minister’s salary for the year.
The means of transportation in early times furnished one of the most serious problems. The Housatonic Railroad was not completed till 1840. Before this, all transportation of produce and merchandise was by wagons to Bridgeport, and thence by sloop to New York. The mail also came in much the same way, being brought here from Bridgeport by a carrier on horseback. Our old friend, the late Colonel Wm. J. Starr, remembered the postman of his childhood days, who announced his arrival by shouting as he rode, “News! News! Some lies and some trues!”
We owe to Colonel Starr a vivid picture of the Main Street of the village nearly a century ago, as he recalled it. It is not an agreeable picture. Pigs were kept in the street, and before almost every house was a long trough, where twice a day they were fed. We can hardly wonder that fevers broke out mysteriously. Geese also roamed at will, and mischievous youths were known to play a practical joke on some unpopular man by penning all the geese in the village into his front porch during the night.
Many of the front yards were adorned with huge wood-piles. A part of the street was a swamp, through which ran a crooked water course that, after a shower, left pools of mud, in which pigs and cattle cooled themselves, for “The Green” was also a cattle pasture. The story is told of a dignified gentleman of the old school, who, dressed in immaculate white on a summer Sunday, was hastening across “The Green” to church, making his way among the puddles, when a large hog, frightened from a pool, ran violently against him. He had an unsought ride on its back across the street, and was deposited in a puddle, in full view of the waiting congregation gathered on the church steps.
In 1838 the open-paved watercourse through “The Green” was constructed and was regarded as a grand improvement.
The Village Improvement Society as organized in 1871,
JEHIEL WILLIAMS, M. D. An early and beloved physician. B. 1782, d. 1862.JEHIEL WILLIAMS, M. D.An early and beloved physician. B. 1782, d. 1862.
and, a little later, under its auspices, “The Green” was put in its present attractive condition, a covered brick sewer being laid to replace the open-paved watercourse which previously ran through the center of the street. This was accomplished on the initiative, and largely though the instrumentality, of Mr. and Mrs. William D. Black, whose efforts and energies were always directed for the benefit of the village. A large and successful fair to raise money for this purpose was held in a tent on “The Green” in July, 1872, and the residents of Main Street accepted a voluntary assessment of a large amount to perfect the work.
A familiar and welcome sight of long ago was the village doctor on horseback with his saddlebags. He was the friend of everyone, beloved and venerated next to the minister. His store of huge pills and herbs and simples carried healing and comfort to all the countryside. Dr. Jehiel Williams was the last of these old-time doctors in New Milford. He is still remembered by many with reverent tenderness. His kindness knew no bounds, and his hearty laugh carried cheer wherever he went. A cautious man he was. Even his most cherished opinions were always prefaced with “I ’most guess.” He was cautious also in his remedies, and the overworked woman of this busy age would hardly accept his cure for nerves and sleeplessness: “Take a hop, put it in a teacup and fill the cup with hot water. Drink it at night and I ’most guess you will feel better.” It was whispered that his huge pills were often made of bread, when he felt none were needed.
He rode up and down the hills for a lifetime, charging twenty-five cents for a visit, fifty cents when the journey was long—afterwards sixty-two and a half cents! On one occasion he rode five miles to find that his patient had been already relieved by some housewife’s simple remedy. He declined any fee, merely saying, “What I have learned in this cure is worth far more to me than the trouble of coming.”
He was friend and helper to three generations, and when, at last, full of years and honors, he went to his well-earned rest, every household of the town mourned his departure.
Slavery existed here, as elsewhere in New England, in the first century of the town. A written advertisement for a runaway slave, offering a reward for his capture, and signed, “Gideon Treat, New Milford, September, 1774,” is still in existence. It sounds strange enough to twentieth century ears. Judging from the records, slaves were generally well treated in New Milford, and many owners freed their own negroes long before the days of slavery were over.
A woman is recorded as the first in our town to free a slave. Mary Robburds, in 1757, gave her negro servant Dan his freedom. Partridge Thatcher, a lawyer here, was especially noted for his kindness to his slaves. Judge David S. Boardman wrote concerning him: “He had no children, but a large number of negroes whom he treated with a kindness enough to put to shame the reproaches of all the Abolitionists of New England.” And he freed them all during his lifetime.
But the sins of old days in this matter were somewhat atoned for in after years by the zeal of the Abolitionists of New Milford in aiding runaway slaves to reach Canada and freedom. In the later days of slavery in the South there were several stations of the Underground Railroad in this vicinity. Mr. Charles Sabin’s house in Lanesville was one, and the house of Mr. Augustine Thayer on Grove Street in this village was another. Mr. Thayer and his good wife devoted their lives to the Abolition cause. They helped many poor slaves on their way, rising from their beds in the night to feed and minister to them, and secreting them till they could be taken under cover of darkness to Deacon Gerardus Roberts’ house on Second Hill, from there to Mr. Daniel Platt’s in Washington, and so on, by short stages, all the way until the Canadian border was reached.
The spirit and courage of the fathers have descended to the sons through many generations. This has been proved again and again in later years, notably in our Civil War. During all the dark four years from the terrible day when the flag fell at Fort Sumter to the memorable rejoicing over the fall of Richmond, there were not wanting brave sons of this old town
SALLY NORTHROPBorn 1776, died 1870A resident of New Milford for OneHundred YearsDAVID CURTIS SANFORDBorn 1798, died 1864A Justice of the Supreme Court ofConnecticut
HENRY SEYMOUR SANFORDBorn 1832, died 1901Son of David C. Sanford: Attorney at theFairfield and Litchfield County BarsWILLIAM DIMON BLACKBorn 1836, died 1889Member of firm of Ball, Black & Co.,New York City; for eighteen years aresident of New Milford and active inthe development of the town tillhis death, 1889
to offer their lives, and fathers to give of their substance. The daughters of the town vied with each other in loyal labors for their country, and, gave their time with their hearts to loving ministry.
In recent days the courage of our citizens has been “tried as by fire.” The great conflagration of May, 1902, swept away the entire business portion of the village; yet the Puritan fathers could not have met disaster more stoically than our brave men of to-day. The cheerful optimism that built “Shanty Town” on “The Green” while the ruins were still smouldering showed that the stout hearts of old New Milford were the same in thenew, and that noble lives have been its inheritance through all its years.
We smile as we recall the old days and ways, but we bare our heads reverently before those godly men and women whose hardships meant a better way for us. Two hundred years hence others will readourrecord, and smile, perhaps. Will it be as worthy?
NAMES OF THE PROPRIETORS IN THE MILFORD COMPANY, WHO, UNDER A DEED OF DATE OF JUNE, 1703, WERE THE OWNERS OF THE TOWN OF NEW MILFORD
Compiled and Arranged by General Henry Stuart Turrill[1]
THEfollowing were proprietors to the amount of £1 4s.: Col. Robert Treat, Mr. Thomas Clark, Ensign George Clark, Lieut. Joseph Treat, Ensign Joseph Peck, Jonathan Baldwin, committee; Capt. Samuel Eells, Sergt. Edward Camp, Rev. Mr. Andrews, Thomas Wlech, James Prime, Stephen Miles, Barnabas Baldwin, John Woodruff, Mr. Richard Bryan, Daniel Terrell, Samuel Brisco, Timothy Botsford, Sergt. Daniel Baldwin, Mr. Robert Treat, Deacon Platt, Thomas Clark, Mr. Samuel Clark, Jr., Samuel Buckingham, Thomas Buckingham, John Buckingham, William Wheeler, Nathaniel Farrand, Sr., George Allen, Samuel Camp (mason), John Smith ye 4th, Samuel Clark, Sr., Ephraim Burwell, Joseph Beard, Joseph Camp, Samuel Camp (Lanesend), Nathaniel Farrand, Jr., Thomas Tibbals, Thomas Canfield, John Merwin, Samuel Smith (West end), William Gold, Joseph Wheeler, John Prince, Samuel Camp, (son of Edward Camp), Eleazor Prindle, Lieut. Camp, William Scone, Samuel Baldwin (wheelwright), Lieut. Joseph Platt, Sergt. Miles Merwin, Samuel Sanford, Sr., John Beard, Mr. Samuel Andrews, Sr., George Clark, Sr., Joseph Clarke, Joseph Peck, Jr., John Camp, Sergt. John Smith, Jonathan Law, Jr., John Allen, Hugh Grey, Joseph Ashburn, John Summers, James Fenn, Zachariah Whitman, William Adams, Joseph Rogers, Samuel Stone, Jonathan Baldwin, Jr.; JesseLambert, Frederick Prudden, Sergt. Zachariah Baldwin, Benjamin Smith, Sr., John Smith, Jr., John Platt, Josiah Platt, Richard Platt, Samuel Prindle, Sergt. Samuel Beard, Sergt. Samuel Northrope, George Clarke, Jr., Samuel Coley, Samuel Merwin, Lieut. Samuel Burwell, Samuel Miles, James Beard, Samuel Nettleton, Joseph Treat (son of Lieut. Treat), Jeremiah Canfield, Thomas Smith, Nathaniel Baldwin, Jr., Jeremiah Beard, Bethel Lankstaff, Andrew Sanford, Sr., Nath. Sanford, John Merwin, Joseph Tibbals, Billin Baldwin (in right of her father, Sergt. Timothy Baldwin, deceased), and Mr. Samuel Mather.
The following were proprietors to the amount 12s.: Mr. Robert Plumb, Andrew Sanford, Widow Mary Baldwin, James Baldwin, Nathaniel Baldwin (cooper), Henry Summers, Samuel Smith (water), John Clark, and William Fowler.
Contributed by Sarah Sanford Black
Upon this hilltop stood the doughty priestAnd bade his minions, men of brawn and bone,To dig for water ere the frost should comeTo lock the land and shroud the hill in snow,Two hundred years ago.And here they labored long and valiantly,Till far beneath the sod a rill aroseAnd ’twixt the rocks a stream broke forthAnd sparkled in the Autumn evening glowTwo hundred years ago.“Thank God for water pure and clear,” he cried,And in the twilight grey the good priest stoodAnd looking off beyond the valley fair,To where the same hills which we love and know,Two hundred years agoSeemed to touch Paradise, as now, he calledOn God, the wanderers’ God, to bless the wellWhich was to them that day, the most desiredOf all the gifts which man or beast could know,Two hundred years ago.The years have passed, two hundred years,—and nowWe stand beside the well, which was the firstOur village knew,—“The Ancient Boardman Well”;To-day the bucket dips, the waters flow,Just as they didTwo hundred years ago.We look where purple hilltops touch the sky,We kneel and thank our God for all the past—
Upon this hilltop stood the doughty priestAnd bade his minions, men of brawn and bone,To dig for water ere the frost should comeTo lock the land and shroud the hill in snow,Two hundred years ago.And here they labored long and valiantly,Till far beneath the sod a rill aroseAnd ’twixt the rocks a stream broke forthAnd sparkled in the Autumn evening glowTwo hundred years ago.“Thank God for water pure and clear,” he cried,And in the twilight grey the good priest stoodAnd looking off beyond the valley fair,To where the same hills which we love and know,Two hundred years agoSeemed to touch Paradise, as now, he calledOn God, the wanderers’ God, to bless the wellWhich was to them that day, the most desiredOf all the gifts which man or beast could know,Two hundred years ago.The years have passed, two hundred years,—and nowWe stand beside the well, which was the firstOur village knew,—“The Ancient Boardman Well”;To-day the bucket dips, the waters flow,Just as they didTwo hundred years ago.We look where purple hilltops touch the sky,We kneel and thank our God for all the past—
Upon this hilltop stood the doughty priestAnd bade his minions, men of brawn and bone,To dig for water ere the frost should comeTo lock the land and shroud the hill in snow,Two hundred years ago.And here they labored long and valiantly,Till far beneath the sod a rill aroseAnd ’twixt the rocks a stream broke forthAnd sparkled in the Autumn evening glowTwo hundred years ago.
“Thank God for water pure and clear,” he cried,And in the twilight grey the good priest stoodAnd looking off beyond the valley fair,To where the same hills which we love and know,Two hundred years agoSeemed to touch Paradise, as now, he calledOn God, the wanderers’ God, to bless the wellWhich was to them that day, the most desiredOf all the gifts which man or beast could know,Two hundred years ago.
The years have passed, two hundred years,—and nowWe stand beside the well, which was the firstOur village knew,—“The Ancient Boardman Well”;To-day the bucket dips, the waters flow,Just as they didTwo hundred years ago.We look where purple hilltops touch the sky,We kneel and thank our God for all the past—
THE FIRST WELL IN THE TOWN OF NEW MILFORD Dug by Priest Daniel Boardman. The property is now owned by Mrs. William D. Black, and known as “Hickory Hearth”.THE FIRST WELL IN THE TOWN OF NEW MILFORDDug by Priest Daniel Boardman. The property is now owned byMrs. William D. Black, and known as “Hickory Hearth”.
They clasped His hand as we do, tho’ that dayAll that their future held they could not knowAs we know now,—Two hundred years ago.We thank our fathers’ God for all His care,For smiling fields and busy haunts of men,—For all the gifts of Science and of Art,—For lives whose deeds His loving guidance showBrave as those livesTwo hundred years ago.All are from Him, these works of hand and brainHis love has made men wise, has kept men true,Since first upon this hilltop life began,And water in the wilderness did flowHere at this wellTwo hundred years ago.
They clasped His hand as we do, tho’ that dayAll that their future held they could not knowAs we know now,—Two hundred years ago.We thank our fathers’ God for all His care,For smiling fields and busy haunts of men,—For all the gifts of Science and of Art,—For lives whose deeds His loving guidance showBrave as those livesTwo hundred years ago.All are from Him, these works of hand and brainHis love has made men wise, has kept men true,Since first upon this hilltop life began,And water in the wilderness did flowHere at this wellTwo hundred years ago.
They clasped His hand as we do, tho’ that dayAll that their future held they could not knowAs we know now,—Two hundred years ago.
We thank our fathers’ God for all His care,For smiling fields and busy haunts of men,—For all the gifts of Science and of Art,—For lives whose deeds His loving guidance showBrave as those livesTwo hundred years ago.All are from Him, these works of hand and brainHis love has made men wise, has kept men true,Since first upon this hilltop life began,And water in the wilderness did flowHere at this wellTwo hundred years ago.
REMINISCENCES OF A TYPICAL NEW MILFORD FAMILY
Contributed by General Henry Stuart Turrill
Caleb Terrill, eldest son of Daniel and Zorvia (Canfield) Terrell, was born in Milford, Connecticut, December 3, 1717. Nearing his majority, he was given the right of land in New Milford of which his grandfather, Daniel, Sr., was the original proprietor. The first allotment to this right was made April 14, 1729, and consisted of about forty-two acres of land on Second Hill, fronting the old Bostwick place. Here, in the spring of 1738, Caleb built his house, cleared a little part of his land and planted a small garden. Late in the summer he returned to Milford. In September he married, in Stratford, Abigail, daughter of Josiah and Alice (Canfield) Bassett, his first cousin, and, in a few days, returned with his bride to the little home on Second Hill. On this spot he lived until his death, February 29, 1796.
This house was the home of his youngest son, Major Turrill, until his death in 1847. Among my very earliest recollections, is a visit to this old place. It was in 1846. I had just passed my fourth birthday, and spent my first day at school. So I, as the youngest of my name, was taken by my father to pay my respects to the oldest living member of my family. I think that this visit produced one of the most lasting impressions of my childhood. I can recall it now, sixty years after. At that time Major Turrill was seventy-eight years old. The large splint-bottomed chair in which he was seated had four enormous legs, seemingly six inches in diameter at least, the two in front continuing up to support the broad arms on which his hands reposed, the two behind extending far above his head. As he rested his head against the broad splint back, he produced the effect of a grand old gentleman in a rusticframe. Major Turrill was a broad-shouldered man of medium height, very upright even in his seventy-eighth year. He had a large, well-formed head and a strong face of a rather stern cast of countenance, while his hair, which was abundant, was steel gray rather than white. My father presented me to him as the youngest of the race, who had just commenced his life work by his first day at school. He called me to him and, placing a broad hand upon my head, said to my father, “A fine little lad,” then turning to me he said, “You must grow up as fine a man as your grandfather, and stand for your country as he stood for it.”
The marriage of Caleb and Abigail, descended as they were from some of the most important of the founder families (she, from the Baldwins, Bryans, Bruens, and Schells, he, from the Fitches, Pratts and Uffords, and both, from the Canfields, the Mallorys and the Cranes), was an event of great importance in Stratford and Milford; and, when it was known that Caleb was to take his bride to the new Plantation of the Weantinaug, the interest in the affair was much deepened. The conditions in those days were quite different from what they are at present. There were no parlor cars, nor honking autos to whisk the blushing bride, amid a shower of rice and old shoes, to the seclusion of the city hotel, there to hide her nuptial joys among the unknown multitude. So Caleb and Abigail were married in that pleasant Stratford home, she, surrounded by the friends of her girlhood, who, if the records are to be believed, were about the whole community, and he, supported by his three stalwart brothers and troops of cousins. A few days were passed in all the feasting and gayeties of the times, after which the young couple, surrounded by a band of the Stratford friends, started on their wedding journey. At the ferry across the “Great River,” they were bidden farewell on the Stratford bank, only to be received on the Milford shore by an equally enthusiastic band of Milford friends, and to be escorted to Caleb’s home in Milford. This was the founder home of Roger, and Caleb was the fourth generation to bring a bride to its shelter. His bride was a namesake of an earlierAbigail, who, ninety-nine years before, had come with her life mate to the then wilderness of Milford. Now, this second Abigail, this tenderly reared girl of scarce eighteen summers, was starting with her life mate, for another wilderness—the New Milford.
After a short stay at the old Tyrrell home, the wedding journey was resumed, up the “Great River” to the Weantinaug country. The “house plenishing,” demanded by the customs of those days, had been furnished by Josiah Bassett, and had been securely packed in a stout boat to be rowed and poled up the river, this being, at that time, the only means of conveying heavy articles to the settlements above. The various animals necessary to farming, although scarce in the New plantations, were plentiful in the older ones; and, since Daniel Terrell was a man of “much substance,” as the records say, an abundant supply had been assembled at the usual starting place for the journey up the river to the “Cove,” just above Goodyear’s Island. On a bright September morning, surrounded by brothers and sisters from both families, and a large company of friends and relatives, the newly-married pair set forth.
The accompanying friends went as far as the first “nooning,” somewhere below Derby. There, the last farewells were said, and Caleb, with his sweet girl wife on the pillion behind him, journeyed to their future home. They moved up the river, camping at night in some quiet nook, their boat, with their provisions and camp equipment, securely fastened to the river’s bank. The bright camp fires flashed out from under the dense foliage of the grand old primeval forests that lined the banks of the Great River, while this pair of children strolled in the deepening gloom, whispering their love, their plans and their hopes of happiness in their home in the wilderness. For four days they thus leisurely journeyed towards the cot on Second Hill, reaching the Cove about noon of the fifth day.
By the mouth of the little brook that falls into the Cove, just at the foot of “Lovers’ Leap,” they made their last camp, while their boat was being unloaded and a more permanent camp
FALLS BRIDGE AND THE GORGEFALLS BRIDGE AND THE GORGE
established, for it would be several days before their belongings could be conveyed to their home. As the sun was sinking toward the cover of Green Pond and Candlewood Mountains, Caleb led his bride up the winding trail that mounts the southern face of the grand old cliffs of Falls Mountain to Waramaug’s Grave; and, from that sightly place, she had her first view of the beautiful Weantinaug Valley. Waramaug’s grave has ever been held an almost sacred spot by the descendants of Caleb and Abigail. In my early youth, on just such another September afternoon, I was taken by my father up this winding trail, and sitting on the grass by the side of those honored stones, was told the tale I have been relating, as each succeeding generation of the name had been told it before me.
The wedding journey ended in that rough little home on Second Hill. There, the pair lived for fifty-eight years in happy wedlock; there, they reared a family of fourteen children (eleven sons and three daughters) of whom all came to manhood and womanhood; and, thence, in 1796, at nearly four score years, Caleb went to his eternal rest. Abigail survived him more than twenty years, in the full possession of all her faculties, and, at the extreme age of ninety-seven years, seven months, and eleven days, was laid beside the husband of her youth and the loving companion of so many years.
A wonderful life was that of grandmother Abigail. She lived through four French and Indian wars, and two wars with England. She saw one son go to the last French war and return from the decisive battle on the Heights of Abraham. She saw six sons go to the Revolution, and, having faithfully performed their part in their country’s struggle—at the siege of Boston, in the battle of Long Island and White Plains, in the crossing of the Delaware and at Valley Forge with Washington, in the battles of Trenton, Saratoga, Princeton, Monmouth, and Germantown—return victorious and unscathed. She also saw Stephen and Isaac return from the successful and conclusive struggle at Yorktown. Finally she saw four of her grandsons return from the second contest with England.
It would be hard to find in American history two more remarkable women than the two Abigails of the Tyrrell family. The first, Abigail Ufford, leaving a happy English home in Essex, braving the trials and privations of the American voyage of 1632, lived through the horrors of the Pequot War, and went with her young husband to found a primitive home in Milford. She stood among that company, which, under the umbrageous trees of Peter Prudden’s home lot, listened to the stately Ansantawa, as, plucking a branch from a tree and gathering a grassy clod from the earth, sticking the branch in the clod and sprinkling it with water from the Milford River, he waved it in the air, declaring that he “gave to them forever, the earth with all thereon, the air, and the waters above and below.” In this home, thus acquired, she lived for fifty-five years, rearing eleven children; saw her sons go to King Philip’s War; and saw them when they had reached man’s estate, start off with their loving helpmates, as their father had done before them, to found other homes—in Southold, in Newark, in Stratford, and in Woodbury. Ninety-nine years after, comes into that Milford home the second Abigail, to venture forth in her turn, like the first Abigail, into the wilderness.
By General Henry Stuart Turrill
Forthe first fifty years from its settlement by John Noble, the town of New Milford had very little concern in the military affairs of the colonies. The Colony of Connecticut furnished soldiers in the war of 1711 and in 1713; and, in 1721, occurred a great outpouring of Connecticut colonists for foreign service. In 1745 a call came to Connecticut from the sister colonies for large numbers of troops for service outside her borders, and, again, in 1755. In response to these calls, New Milford seems not to have sent any men. The defense of their own town and of its outlying districts was about all the colonists of New Milford undertook in a military way, this being sufficiently strenuous to engage their entire attention.
We are inclined, in these later days, to smile at the train-band of the ancient times, but the train-band service of our Colonial fathers was one of exceeding severity.
The first company in New Milford was organized in 1715, and was commanded for twenty years by Captain Stephen Noble. The service for the guarding of the frontier towns in the colony of Connecticut was an exceedingly arduous one. Every male citizen, except the aged, the infirm, and the ministers, was obliged to do military duty. These militia-men had to provide their arms and equipment at their own expense, and, if any business required their absence from the town, they were obliged to provide a substitute and to pay, themselves, for his services. The arms which each soldier furnished consisted of a musket or rifle, a bullet pouch containing twenty bullets, a powder horn containing twenty charges of powder, and such an amount of cloth or buckskin as would make sufficient wadding for this number of charges. These requirementswere constant, and frequent examinations were made to see that all of the men of the company complied with them.
As New Milford was, during most of these first fifty years of its existence, a frontier town, a line of guards was established which reached across the country from Woodbury to the New York boundary, and the members of the company had to take turns in patrolling this line.
The second company in New Milford was organized in 1744, and both of these companies continued to exist until the Revolution.
The first recorded service of the New Milford men beyond their own borders occurred about 1758. The greatest accumulation of men found on the record is a company raised for the French and Indian War in 1759. It was commanded by Captain Whiting and was known as the “Tenth Company of Colonel David Wooster’s Third Regiment of Connecticut Levy.” The New Milford men were First Lieutenant Hezekiah Baldwin, Sergeant Israel Baldwin, Corporal John Bronson, Drummer Zadock Bostwick. The privates were Isaac Hitchcock, Barrall Buck (there are two mentions of Buck, he being recorded also as David Buck), Martin Warner, David Hall, Dominie Douglas (whether Dominie stood for minister or was just the baptismal name, I do not know), Thomas Oviatt, Daniel Daton, Joseph Lynes, Ashel Baldwin, Elnathan Blatchford, Ebenezer Terrill, William Gould, David Collings, Joseph Jones, Moses Fisher, Zachariah Ferris, Jesse Fairchild, Joseph Smith, Benjamin Wallis, Benjamin Hawley, Moses Johnson.
The Colonial Records do not show where this regiment was used. Colonel Wooster had a long Colonial service and marched with several expeditions toward Canada. How far these men marched is not on record. They were enlisted in the spring, and seem to have returned to their homes in the fall. Whether they went as far as the expedition of that year toward Canada does not appear. Possibly family traditions might throw some light on the matter.
In the Eleventh Company of the Second Regiment, Colonel Nathaniel Whiting commanding, Ruben Bostwick was ensign,and the records show that Private James Bennett went from the town in 1760.
In the calls from New Milford of 1759 and 1761 occur the names of Hezekiah Baldwin, Second Lieutenant, Second Company, Third Regiment (Lieutenant Colonel Hinman commanding), Israel Baldwin, and Josiah Baldwin. The records show that, in the same year, Ashel Turrell, son of Nathan, with his brother Nathan, went from the town to the army in New York or Canada. Caleb Turrill, Enoch Turrill, Isaac Turrill, sons of Caleb Terrell, also went in the same organization. John Terrell is mentioned as being in the war (1761), but I judge that to be a mistake, as there was no John Terrell in the town of New Milford of age sufficient to answer that call.
The Eleventh Company of the Fourth Regiment was commanded by Captain Josiah Canfield, the Regiment being commanded by Colonel Wooster. There appear the names of Ashel, son of Nathan Terrell, and of Enoch, son of Caleb Turrill.
In the Tenth Company of the Second Regiment (Colonel Nathaniel Whiting’s) commanded by Captain Gideon Stoddard, the name of William Drinkwater appears. The following New Milford names are scattered through the Second, Third and Fourth Connecticut regiments: Bronson, Baldwin, Beach, Bardsley, Beebe, Bennett, Boardman, Booth, Buck, Buell (David, afterward a Revolutionary soldier) Bostwick, Camp, Comstock, Couch, Crane, Curtis, Drinkwater, and Ferris.
Captain Joseph Canfield raised a company in 1758, of which Jeremiah Canfield was the drummer. The last edition of the Colonial Records (issued only a year or so ago), the best existing authority upon the period, gives merely the names of the members of this company and the length of their service, with dates of enlistment and of discharge. Exactly what rôle they played it is impossible now to find out. There are many traditions in the families of their doings, but these family traditions are not as full as those of the Revolution, which, following so quickly, effaced memories which would otherwise have survived. There are some tales of Bill Drinkwater, ofStephen Terrell, and Thomas Drinkwater, but they are so indefinite that all which can be gleaned from them is that these men went as far as Quebec, and were in the battle on the Heights of Abraham, and, possibly, in some of the others.
Most of the members of this company must have returned, as their names appear in the town affairs after this period. There is no record of any loss of life, so far as I have been able to find, among the New Milford men who participated in the French and Indian War. Very little disturbance from Indians occurred in the vicinity of New Milford during this war; there is but one instance of trouble, I think, recorded. A very good understanding with the Indians was attained by the warm friendship between Waramaug, chief of all the tribes of the region, and the New Milford minister, Rev. Mr. Boardman, who attended old Waramaug on his deathbed. Quite an interesting tale is told of his death, but that will probably be recorded in another place. After the close of the French and Indian War there seems to have been little military activity in New Milford, except the keeping up of the two companies under the rigorous acts of the Colonial Guard. These were officered and drilled as they had been from their formation. It is not till the period of the Revolution is reached that the town takes on very much of a military character.
Canfield, Bostwick and Noble seem to have been the most prominent names in military affairs during the Colonial period.
The first company of which mention is made in connection with the Revolution is that of Lieutenant Ebenezer Couch, who served in the regiment of Colonel Andrew Ward. This company does not appear at all in either the Connecticut War Book or the rolls of the Connecticut Historical Society. The first notice of Ebenezer Couch in the Connecticut War Book is of his commanding a company of Colonel Canfield’s regiment at West Point and Peekskill in 1777. The only record of the company is in a roll which was in the possession of the late Colonel William J. Starr of New Milford, and which, I suppose, was among his papers when he died. It was raised in May, 1775. The names of its members are given in theroll of New Milford men in the Revolution, which is appended to this article and need not be repeated here.
Its history is rather indefinite. It seems to have been raised for the Lexington alarm, but, being too late for that purpose, it probably went to the Sound or to New York. The date of its discharge does not appear on any record, but most of the men are soon found on the rolls of other companies in the service.
In July, 1775, a company was formed in New Milford, commanded by Captain Isaac Bostwick, who was first commissioned on the sixteenth of that month and, later, was recommissioned at Boston. It joined the regiment of Colonel Charles Webb, under the name of the Seventh Connecticut Levy, served along the Sound, and then went to the siege of Boston. Its term of service was to expire in December, 1775. About the time it was to be discharged, it was reorganized as the Nineteenth Regiment of Connecticut Line, enlisted for one year. Most of the men of Captain Bostwick’s company, as well as those of Lieutenant Couch’s company, appear in the new organization. The company and regiment remained at the siege of Boston until after the evacuation of that place by the British, when they accompanied General Washington to New York, going by land as far as New London and thence by boat. They were put to work at first upon the fortifications of New York, then, on the completion of that work, they were taken over to Brooklyn, and were employed, on the left of the line, in completing the fortifications there. They were not engaged in the battle of Long Island, but they covered the retreat, after that disaster, and played an important part in the subsequent movements about New York. They rendered some aid to the Brigade of Connecticut Militia in the disastrous affair of Kipp’s Bay, moved with the army across the Harlem to Westchester, and were hotly engaged, with considerable loss, in the battle of White Plains.
After this battle, and before the capture of Fort Washington, they were brought down to Spuyten Duyvil creek, just at its junction with the Hudson, and were kept there furnishingguards, orderlies and escorts for the movements about the fort. While the Jumel mansion (then the old Morris house) was being used as the American Headquarters, many of Captain Bostwick’s men were frequently on duty about the place as guards and orderlies. The following is a tradition for which the only authority is the stories told by the old soldiers around John Turrill’s fireside many years after: During the engagement of the British with Fort Washington, a sergeant’s guard under the command of David Buell of New Milford, which had been placed at a picket station near the base of Inwood Hill, were separated, by the rapid advance of the Hessians up the Harlem River (a movement, which, but for the quickness of a soldier’s wife at the Morris house, would have resulted in the capture of General Washington), from their regiment across the creek and obliged to fall back to Fort Washington. Being hotly pursued by the advancing enemy, they were forced to take cover under the banks of the Hudson, to avoid the fire of almost an entire regiment. A small party of the Hessians endeavored to cut off their retreat to the fort and one of them succeeded in jumping down the bank in front of the New Milford men. Roger Blaisdell was in the advance, and, as the German stumbled down the bank in front of him, pushed him with a thrust of his bayonet into the river and the party reached temporary safety in Fort Washington.
The Fort was soon captured by the British, however, and our New Milford men found themselves in the unfortunate position of prisoners of war.
The prisoners, according to the stories told by them afterward, were moved down to a point about where Union Square is now, and were there confined in a barn, for three days, before any food was given them. Then, wagons from the British slaughter-houses arrived, loaded with the hock bones of the cattle killed for the British troops. These wagons having been backed up to the door of the barn, the hock bones were shoveled in on the floor, while the prisoners scrambled for what they could get. It is said that their hunger was so great that they seized the bones and gnawed them as a dog would.They were kept for three days in this barn, and were then conveyed down to that much-dreaded place of confinement, the Old Sugar House Prison, a sugar store-house, which was between Ann and Fulton streets. It was a building with a large central portion, and had two wings which projected on either side of a little courtyard. There were no cellars and the floor was of puncheons (hewn logs eight or ten inches thick) laid loose on the floor timbers. It was very strongly constructed in order that it might sustain the weight of the heavy casks of sugar and molasses which came from the West Indies.
The place where our twelve New Milford men slept was just inside one of the doors. The two projecting rooms on either side were occupied by the guard of the prison and the officers, respectively. A sentry paced up and down the front from the guard room to the room of the officers. The provisions furnished to the prisoners were exceedingly scanty and of so poor a quality that they had been condemned as unfit for the use of the soldiers and sailors of the British army. Their rations consisted mainly of moldy and wormy pilot bread. This régime, following the “bone diet” of the barn, soon reduced them to the verge of starvation. These poor Continentals had little or no money with which to purchase favors and they were soon in a very bad way. The British profited by this situation to try to get the Americans to renounce the Patriot cause and enlist in the British army. A guinea a head was offered to each British soldier who would induce a rebel to join their cause. The English guard was well fed and it was very tantalizing to our New Milford men to see the burly Englishmen enjoying their abundant repasts. Necessity is the mother of invention, however, and our men soon formed a plan to obtain some of the much coveted food. The cooking for the guard was done in the room occupied by them and a limited amount of provisions was, from time to time, brought there. Late one afternoon, a half-barrel of mess pork was brought in and opened for use, and left standing under the charge of the sentry for the night. This was our boys’ opportunity and, as soon as the other prisoners were sound asleep, they veryquietly raised one of the logs in their floor space and scooped out a little hole in the sand underneath. A place having been thus prepared for their expected booty, they then proceeded to get the much desired pork. The night was so dark that a man could not be recognized at any distance and this was much in their favor. Roger Blaisdell quietly approached the sentry and, explaining that he was tired of starving, asked to be told where he could go to enlist in the British army, adding that he did not dare to come when the other prisoners were awake. The sentry, overjoyed at the prospect of the guinea, and fearing that, if he let the man go, some other would secure the much-coveted prize, told Blaisdell to walk up and down his beat with him until he should be relieved, when he would take him to the officer of the day. Accordingly, they paced up and down the sentry’s beat until, when a good opportunity occurred at the point farthest from the quarters of the guard, Blaisdell hit his companion a blow behind the ear which would have felled an ox and which knocked the sentry senseless. The men, who were on the watch, rushed to the pork barrel, scooped out an armful of pork each, quickly deposited it in the hole that they had prepared, replaced the plank, and dropped down upon it, snoring to beat a bass drum. Of course an alarm was raised and the prisoners were turned out, but the sentry was too much shaken up by the blow to be able to tell much about the matter. The loss of the pork was not discovered that night, if at all, so there was nothing to direct attention to the men, and they escaped detection. Each night, while the other prisoners were sleeping, the enterprising twelve would quietly raise the plank and have a meal of raw salt pork. In after days, those of the group who survived the prison experiences (particularly Sergeant David Buell) used to refer to their prison pork as the sweetest food that they had ever eaten, and for years the standing toast at their reunions was, “To Roger Blaisdell’s pork barrel.”
Within the last few months I have compared my recollections with those of other descendants of these men and have found that the traditions of these events agree so nearly as to warrantthe belief that there was much truth in the stories told by the old veterans.
After being confined for a number of weeks in the sugar house, the prisoners were taken to the prison shipDutton. Two hundred of them were transported to Milford and put ashore there. Twenty were dead before the vessel arrived and twenty more died very soon after. All the forty are buried in the graveyard of that place. Of the twelve men of New Milford, tradition narrates the return of only four, Roger Blaisdell, David Buell, William Drinkwater and Lyman Noble. Through friends in Milford, they were able to secure a horse, and thus worked their way back to New Milford, reaching there about March, 1777. This group was eliminated from Captain Isaac Bostwick’s company and did no further service until their companions came home from the successful fields of Trenton and Princeton. Shortly after the fall of Fort Washington, the regiment containing Captain Bostwick’s company was ordered to Philadelphia. It was with Washington at Germantown before the army went into winter quarters at Valley Forge. Its term of service was to expire December 20, 1776. But Washington was then planning the move which ended in the crossing of the Delaware at Trenton, and many of its members remained in service, at his personal request, for a six weeks’ campaign.
Most of the men of Captain Bostwick’s company were with Washington and crossed the Delaware on the twenty-fifth of December, 1776, and, on the early morning of that day, they were in the battle of Trenton, where they assisted in the capture of the Hessian regiment. They were engaged in the succeeding battle at Princeton, January 3, 1777, and were finally discharged on the first of February, 1777, when they returned to New Milford.
Captain Bostwick appeared as a leader in the Danbury alarm. With him was John Terrell and David Buell, who had so far recovered from his prison experiences as to join his old companions on that occasion. Roger Blaisdell does not appear, but Bill Drinkwater does. With them was a New Milford man who had been in Captain Couch’s first company,one Ruben Phillips. Ruben Phillips was a colored man, living in New Milford, who had evidently been the cook in Captain Bostwick’s company. The descendants of Ruben Phillips were living, in my time, in the little house where the road goes up Chicken Hill toward Bridgewater, and this family knew that their ancestor had been in the Revolution with my grandfather. A descendant of this Phillips, Chester Phillips by name, volunteered in the Twenty-ninth Connecticut Infantry in the War of the Rebellion and was killed in front of Petersburg, Virginia. Truly the Revolutionary blood of New Milford was as good in the black man as in the white.
The group from Captain Bostwick’s company were engaged four days in the Danbury alarm. The following story regarding this little band is extant: The British had commenced their retreat from Danbury by way of Ridgefield and these men were following them up very earnestly, pressing close upon a grenadier regiment which was the rear guard of the British force. John Terrell, William Noble, Bill Drinkwater and David Buell rushed together up one side of the famous rock in Ridgefield, while the grenadiers were still on the other side. One of them (which one I do not know), showing himself imprudently, was shot by the British grenadiers. Of the truth of this story I have never been able to learn. It is firmly believed in and about Ridgefield and also in New Milford. There is a plate on the rock, I think, commemorating the death of one of the company.
A number of men from New Milford were in the company of Captain Daniel Pendleton of Watertown, which belonged to the regiment of Colonel Judthon Baldwin, a regiment of artificers that served under the direction of the Quarter-Master-General as a Construction Corps. This regiment was in all the engagements of the war except those about Boston and those of the northern army above Albany, in more engagements, in fact, than any other body of Connecticut troops. In 1780, when General Green took command of the Southern Department, he requested that Captain Pendleton’s company be sent to him. The company joined him, as requested, andwas the only body of Connecticut men that served south of Virginia. It was on duty there until the disbanding of the army in November, 1783.
This was the only considerable group of men that went as a body from New Milford after the first two companies; perhaps it might be called the third company. The enlistments were for short periods and the changes were quite frequent, until 1778 and 1779, when enlistments began to be made for three years or the war.
New Milford is credited on the Connecticut War Records and the Connecticut Historical Society’s rolls with two hundred and eighty-five men in the war, many of whom served two and three, and some even four terms of enlistment.
While these soldiers of the Revolution were in the field doing military duty, their fathers and brothers were at home laboring for their support; not so easy a task when it is remembered that in the first three years of the war the Colony of Connecticut paid for the maintenance and equipment of her troops in the field, for the damage to her people in the British raids of Danbury and Norwalk, the immense sum of £516,606. During the last four years of the war the Continental Congress fixed Connecticut’s share of the expenses of the war at $1,800,000 a year. At times the tax rates were three shillings on the pound. The eight years of the war were years of toil and suffering to those on the sterile hill-farms, where the striving and stress were about as great as in the midst of the dangers of the battle-field. Indeed, much of the war had come to these farmers’ very doors, for the Tories of Squash Hollow and the Quakers of Quaker Hill and Straits Mountain had not proved themselves exactly the men of peace that they professed to be.
The leading family of New Milford in the Revolution was the Bostwicks. There were ten of the name in the service during the war—Amos, Benjamin, Elijah, Elisha, Ebenezer, Isaac, Israel, Joel, Oliver and Solomon. The next was the Turrills, of whom there are nine on the records—Ashel, Caleb, Ebenezer, Enoch, Isaac, Joel, John, Nathan and Stephen. The Canfields have seven names to their credit—Amos, Ezra,John, Josiah, Moses, Nathaniel and Samuel—and the Baldwins, four—Jared, John, Jonas and Theodore.
It would be impossible to give all the actions in which New Milford men were concerned during the Revolution without giving a history of the entire war. Some of the marked battles in which they were engaged were those about Philadelphia, the Mud Forts, Germantown and Monmouth. They participated in the crossing of the Delaware from Princeton and, later, were at the surrender of Germantown. New Milford men were with Morgan at Saratoga and tradition says that they were at the capture of Ticonderoga and Crown Point, with Ethan Allen. Colonel Warner of Roxbury, the companion of Allen, who was well and favorably known in New Milford, had many friends, some of whom may have gone with him on that expedition. There may be some truth in this story, therefore, as it is extant.
According to one of the legends current in Western Connecticut, a troop of New Milford and Roxbury men on their way to the Hampshire Grants to join Ethan Allen, assembled at New Milford. Their first morning’s march was up the Housatonic to a little spring which comes out near the present railroad a short distance below Merwinsville. There, they were met by Deacon Gaylord, who had crossed the river from his place in a canoe, with a lunch, which included a bottle of applejack, and a jug of hard cider. He distributed these liquid refreshments so freely, deacon though he was, that the party were quite jolly before they moved on to their night camp, which was to be at Bull’s Bridge. Whatever may be the truth of this story, it is evident that the New Milford men’s eyes were turned very much toward the Northern Department, and that many of them served in the operations of that department.
New Milford men were present at the famous charge of Mad Anthony Wayne at Stony Point. A company of pioneers was selected to go forward and cut away the pickets in order to facilitate the advance of the charging column up into the fort. There is a tradition that Lieutenant David Buell was one of these pioneers, and, as he was in the engagement, the tradition is probably correct. The pioneers, having cut away the pickets,scattered to the right and left, in accordance with their orders, leaving the way open for the charging column, which began the ascent. The cannoneer of the fort was swinging his linstock to fire a cannon which pointed right down the line. History gives it that, at this critical moment, one of the pioneers rushed forward with his axe and knocked the cannoneer over before he was able to apply the linstock, thus saving the expedition; and legend claims that this pioneer was Sergeant David Buell. Legend goes on to say that, in the fort at Stony Point, the Continental soldiers found a number of Tories (some from the vicinity of New Milford) who had retired thither for protection. These Tories were paraded about the fort with ropes around their necks and David Buell, as a mark of distinction, led the procession, holding a rope around the neck of the most valiant and troublesome Tory. David Buell received a pension for his services and was long a resident of New Milford, where, I believe, he is buried. His house was on Second Hill, and, in his advanced years, he did little but travel about among his friends, frequently stopping for some time with a sister who lived in “Pug Lane” (now Park Lane). His favorite resort, when he was with his sister, was Mr. Cushman’s Tavern, which is still standing on the road going up to Second Hill and Northville. It was his morning custom to go over to the tavern and meet his friends there. It was observed that, whenever an Englishman and Tory happened into Cushman’s place, David Buell immediately left. He would go home and say “Umph! an Englishman was there; I could not stay.” Another favorite gathering place of many of these old soldiers was at the home of John Turrill, and it was there that they celebrated the anniversaries. Their habit was to gather in the morning, go and make a call on Captain Isaac Bostwick, drink a glass of wine, and then return to dinner at John Turrill’s home, where they would afterward tell their stories. Many of these stories were quite lurid, possibly by reason of the quantity and quality of John Turrill’s hard cider and applejack; for John, although extremely temperate himself, is said never to have stinted his former companions in arms either in food or drink.
Stephen Turrill was another noted man in the regiments. He belonged at first to the company of Ebenezer Couch, but, soon after drifted into a number of organizations from New Milford which served about West Point. He was in that part of the country for nearly two years. There are numberless stories of his encounters with the Tories. One of these is as follows: A band to which he was attached, while marching through the lower part of the Debatable Land, came to the house of a Dutch Tory. They wanted something to eat and asked the woman of the house if she could give them some milk or anything. She very gruffly told them that there was nothing in the house to eat, that she had nothing for the Rebels. Just then, something called her out of doors for a minute, and the soldiers saw that, over the fireplace, in a large pot, the dinner was boiling. Stephen Turrill’s inquisitive mind determined to know what was in that pot. Accordingly, he pulled off the lid, saw a fine bag pudding, pulled it out, put it in his haversack, and marched away. The woman quickly discovered her loss and came crying that the Rebels had stolen her pudding. The sergeant in command marched by his men and then told the woman there was no evidence of her pudding there; but, after she had retreated a short distance, he said “Turrill, did you get that woman’s pudding?” “Yes,” said he, “here it is in my haversack.” The company passed on and dined sumptuously.
Scattered over the Debatable Land were little guard houses, in each of which a guard was kept for a week at a time, to intercept the approach of British or Tories. These guard houses usually consisted of two rooms, a front and back one. On one occasion——
[General Turrill’s narrative of “New Milford in the Wars,” was tragically cut short at this point by his sudden death in the office of the Grafton Press, where he was dictating it. It has seemed more fitting to leave this narrative in its unfinished condition, as a sort of memorial to him, than to have it completed by another. Any inconsistencies that may exist in it may be attributed to the fact that it did not have the benefit of his correction and revision.—Editor.]