The Only Woman in the Town, and Other Tales of the American Revolution

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The Only Woman in the Town, and Other Tales of the American Revolution Page 2

by Sarah J. Prichard


  A WINDHAM LAMB IN BOSTON TOWN.

  It was one hundred and one years ago in this very month of June, thatnine men of the old town of Windham--which lies near the northeastcorner of Connecticut--met at the meeting-house door. There was noservice that day; the doors were shut, and the bell in the steeplegave no sound.

  The town of Windham had appointed the nine men a committee to ask theinhabitants to give from their flocks of sheep as many as they couldfor the hungry men and women of Boston. Each man of the committee wastold at the meeting-house door the district in which he was to gathersheep.

  On his stout grey pony sat Ebenezer Devotion. As soon as he heard theeastern portion of the town assigned to him, he gave the signal to hishorse, and in five minutes was out of sight over the high hill. In tenminutes he was near the famous Frog pond. As he was passing it by, avoice from the marsh along its bank cried out:

  "Where now, so fast, this fine morning, Mr. Devotion?"

  "The same to you, Goodwife Elderkin. I know your voice, though I can'tsee your face."

  Presently a hand parted the thicket and a woman's face appeared.

  "I'm getting flag-root. It gives a twang to root beer that nothingelse will, and the flag hereabout is the twangiest I know of. Stop atthe house as you go along and get some beer, won't you? Mary Ann's tohome."

  "Thank you," said Mr. Devotion, with a stiff bow. "It's a little earlyfor beer this morning. I'll stop as I come this way again. How areyour sheep and lambs this year?"

  "First rate. Never better."

  "Have you any to part with?"

  "Who wants to buy?" and Goodwife Elderkin came out from the thicket tothe road-side, eager for gain.

  "We don't sell sheep in Windham this year," said Mr. Devotion.

  "Why, what's the matter with the man?" thought Mrs. Elderkin, forEbenezer Devotion liked to drive a good bargain as well as any one ofhis neighbors. Before she had time to give expression to her surprise,he said with a sharp inclination of his head toward the sun, "We'veneighbors over yonder, good and true, who wouldn't sell sheep if wewere shut in by ships of war, and hungry, too."

  "What! any news from Boston town?"

  "It's twenty-four days, to-day, since the port was shut up."

  Goodwife Elderkin laughed. Ebenezer Devotion looked grim enough tosmother every bit of laughter in New England.

  "'Pears as if king and Parliament really believed that tea was castaway by the men of Boston, now don't it? 'stead of every man, womanand child in the country havin' a hand in it," said Mrs. Elderkin.

  "About the sheep!" replied Mr. Devotion, jerking up his horse's headfrom the sweet, pure grass, greening all the road-side.

  "Let your pony feed while he can," she replied. "What about thesheep?"

  "How many will you give?"

  "How many are you going to give yourself?"

  "Twice as many as you will."

  "Do you mean it?"

  "I do."

  "Then I'll give every sheep I own."

  "And how many is that?"

  "A couple of dozen or so."

  "Better keep some of them for another time."

  Mrs. Elderkin laughed again. "I'll say half a dozen then, if a dozenis all you want to give yourself."

  Ebenezer Devotion drew from his wallet a slip of paper and headed hislist of names with "Six sheep, from Goodwife Elderkin."

  "Thank you in the name of God Almighty and the country," he said,solemnly, as he jerked his pony's head from the grass and rode on.

  Mrs. Elderkin watched him as he wound along the pond-side and waslost to sight; then she, chuckling forth the words, "I knew wellenough my sheep were safe," went back to the marsh after flag-root.

  When every neighbor feels it a duty to carry intelligence from thelast speaker he has met to the next hearer he may meet, news fliesfast, so Goodwife Elderkin was prepared for the accost of Mr.Devotion. She did not linger long in the swamp, but, washing her handsfree from mud in the water of the pond, walked swiftly home. By thetime she reached her house, the gray pony and his rider were two milesaway on the road to Canterbury. The cry of hunger and possiblestarvation in the town of Boston was spreading from village to villageand from house to house.

  Do you know how Boston is situated? It would be an island but for thenarrow neck of land on the south side. On the east, west and north arethe waters of Massachusetts Bay and Charles River. Just north from it,and divided only by the same river, is another almost island, with itsneck stretched toward the north; and this latter place is Charlestownand contains Bunker's Hill. Not far from the two towns, in the bay,are many islands. Noddle's Island, Hog, Snake, Deer, Apple, Bird andSpectacle Islands are of the number. On these islands were many sheepand cattle, likewise hay and wood, all of which the inhabitants ofBoston needed for daily use, but by the Boston port bill, which wentinto operation on the first day of June, no person was permitted toland anything at either Boston or Charlestown; and so the neck ofCharlestown reached out to the north for food and help, and the neckof Boston pleaded with the south for sustenance, and it was in answerto this cry that our nine men of Windham went sheep-gathering.

  The work went on for four days, and at the end of that time 257 sheephad been freely given. The owners drove them, on the evening of the27th day of the month, to the appointed place, and, very early in themorning of the 28th, many of the inhabitants were come together to seethe flock start on its long march. Two men and two boys went with thegift. Good wife Elderkin was early on the highway. She wanted to makecertain just how many sheep bore the mark of Ebenezer Devotion'sownership; but the driven sheep went past too quickly for her, and shenever had the satisfaction of finding out how many he gave. Followingthe flock up the hill, she saw in the distance a sight that made herheart beat fast. On the stone wall, under a great tree, sat MaryRobbins, a little girl. She was dressed in a pink calico frock, andshe was holding in her arms a snow-white lamb, around whose neck shehad tied a strip of the calico of which her own gown was fashioned.

  "Now if I ever saw the beat of that!" cried Good wife Elderkin,walking almost at a run up the hill, and so coming to the place wherethe child sat, before the sheep got there.

  "Mary Robbins!" she cried, breathless from her haste. "What have yougot that lamb for?"

  Mary blushed under her little sun-bonnet, hugged the lamb, and saidnot a word. At the moment up came the flock, panting and warm. Downsprang Mary Robbins from the wall, the lamb in her arms. JohnnyManning, aged fifteen years, was one of the two lads in care of thesheep. To him Mary ran, saying:

  "Johnny, Johnny, won't you take my lamb, too?"

  "What for?"

  "Why, for some poor little girl in the town where there isn't anythingto eat," urged Mary, her sun-bonnet falling unheeded into the dust, asshe held up her offering to the cause of liberty.

  "Why, it can't walk to Boston," said the boy, running back to recovera stray sheep.

  "You can carry it in your arms," she urged.

  "Give it to me, then."

  She gave it, saying:

  "Be good to it, Johnny, and give him some milk to drink to-night. Itdon't eat much grass, yet."

  And so Johnny Manning marched away, over and down and out of sight,with Mary's lamb in his arms. As for Mary herself, little woman thatshe was, having made her sacrifice, she would have dropped on thegrass, after picking up her sun-bonnet, and had a good cry over herloss, had it not been for Goodwife Elderkin standing there in theroad, waiting for her.

  With a sharp look at the child, the woman left the highway to go toher own house, and Mary went home, hoping that no one would ask herabout the lamb.

  The flock of sheep marched until the noontide, when a halt wasordered. After that they went onward over hill and river, with rest atnight and at noon, until the town of Roxbury was reached. At thisplace the sheep were left to be taken to Boston, when opportunitycould be had.

  With Mary's lamb in his arms, Johnny Manning accompanied the messengerwho went up Boston Neck to carry a letter to the
"Selectmen of theTown." That letter has been preserved and is carefully kept among thetreasured documents of the Massachusetts Historical Society. It is toolong to be given here, but, after begging Boston to suffer and bestrong, remembering what had been done for the country by itsfounders, it closes in these words: "We know you suffer, and feel foryou. As a testimony of our commiseration of your misfortunes, we haveprocured a small flock of sheep, which at this season are not so goodas we could wish, but are the best we had. This small present,gentlemen, we beg you would accept and apply to the relief of thosehonest, industrious poor, who are most oppressed by the lateoppressive acts."

  Then, after a promise of future help in case of need, the letter issigned by Samuel Grey, Ebenezer Devotion, and seven other names,ending with that of Hezekiah Manning.

  "Give me the lamb, and I'll feed three hungry little girlsevery day as long as Boston is shut up."]

  A British officer, seeing the lamb in Johnny's arms, offered to buyit, bribing him with a bit of gold; but Johnny said "there wasn't anygold in the land that he would exchange it for," and so the lambreached Boston in safety before the sheep got there. As Johnny walkedalong the streets he was busy looking out for some poor little girl togive it to, according to Mary's request.

  "I must wait," he thought, "until I find some one who is almoststarved."

  On the Common side he met a little girl who cried "Oh! see! see! Alamb! A live lamb in Boston Town!"

  The child's eyes rested on the little white creature, which accostedher with a plaintive bleat. Johnny Manning's eyes were riveted on thelittle girl. What he thought, he never said. "Do you want it?" heasked.

  "O yes! yes! Where did you get it?"

  "I've brought it from Roxbury in my arms. Mary Robbins gave it, inWindham, for some poor little girl who was hungry in Boston. Are youhungry?"

  "No," said the child, hesitatingly.

  "Are you poor?"

  "My father is"--a sudden thought stopped the words she was about tospeak. "Give me the lamb," she said, "and I'll feed three hungrylittle girls every day as long as Boston is shut up. I will! I will!and Mary's lamb shall live until I'm a hungry little girl myself, andI will keep it until I am starved clear almost to death."

  Johnny put Mary's little lamb on the walk. "See if it will followyou," he said.

  "Come lamb! lamb! come with Catharine," and it went bleating after heralong the Common side.

  "It's used to a girl," ejaculated the boy, "and it hasn't been a bithappy with me. Give it grass and milk," he called after Catharine, whoturned and bowed her head.

  "A pretty story I shall have to tell Mary Robbins," thought Johnny."Here I have given her lamb to be kept and coddled, and it's likelynever eaten at all--but I know that little girl will keep her word.She looks it--and she said she would feed three little girls as longas Boston is shut up, and that is more than the lamb could do. I mustrecollect the very words, to tell Mary."

  When the _Boston Gazette_ of July 4th, 1774, reached the village ofWindham, its inhabitants were surprised at the following announcement,more particularly as not one of them knew where the _last sheep_ camefrom:

  "Last week, were driven to the neighboring town of Roxbury two hundred and fifty-eight sheep, a generous contribution of our sympathizing brethren of the town of Windham, in the colony of Connecticut; to be distributed for the employment or relief of those who may be sufferers by means of the act of Parliament, called the Boston Port Bill."

  Johnny Manning, when he returned to Windham, privately explained thematter to Mary Robbins, by telling her that when the sheep werenumbered at Roxbury he counted in her lamb.

 

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