CHAPTER III. The Dwellers of the Ridgefield Tavern TH "And this I know: whether the one True light -Omar Khayyam. HE RIDGEFIELD TAVERN was one of those quaint, old-fashioned, shingled hostelries many of which dotted the country; being situated on one of the turnpikes or main arteries of travel between distant towns of importance. It was situated at the southern end of a very wide street, on either side of which rows of majestic elms waived their huge arms in unison to the atmospheric changes of the moods of the seasons. The houses of the inhabitants of the town were of a distinct type-two stories in height, flanked on either side with one-story addition and porticos ascending one or two stories, supported by Corinthian columns. Some were more modest but of the same general outline. Stretches of broad sward lay in front. Windows were either of small squares of diamond shaped. The Tavern was like its neighbors, but had a hipped roof through which projected dormer windows with wide, capacious gable fronting the street. The front of the house, with its broad veranda, was directed toward the south and extended backward for some distance until lost in a one-story extension terminating in a shed or shelter running at right angles with the main building-used for the horses and vehicles of the guests. Outhouses placed here and there conveniently for domestic and storage purposes; large wellfilled barns and granaries at a short distance in the rear completed the establishment. About one hundred yards to the southward the turnpike forked, one running to New Canaan, the other to Norwalk. The town of Ridgefield, called by the Indians Caudatowa, signifying highland from its elevated position, affording a view of the Sound for forty miles. It had been bought some seventy years before by a party of twenty-five men from Norwalk, including such well-known names as John Belden, Samuel Keeler, Mathew Seymour, Mathias St. John, King, Hawley, Northrop, Hait, etc. The purchase price was a hundred pounds. It comprised an oblong strip of thirteen miles long by three miles wide situated on a succession of ridges and valleys running from a northerly to a southerly direction. It lay between the towns of Danbury and Norwalk, each of which being about equally distant. The western boundary was Westchester County, in the colony of New York. The deed of sale was signed by Catoonah, Sachem of the Ramapo Indians, and eight of his colleagues or tribe by the names of Gootquas, Waw-Kamawee, Woquacomick, Mahke, Nanareka, Waspachian, Tampoonick, Cawhorin, each placing his own distinctive and peculiar mark against his name. It comprised the parishes of Ridgebury and Ridgefield and lay about fourteen miles distant from Long Island Sound. The Tavern was situated well towards the road, its heavy brass knockers polished by Agathy and Ephraim, the colored servants, to such a brilliancy as to reflect the faces of the guests as they waited to be admitted to the broad hall flanked on either side by parlor and living room, each of the latter containing a large, wide, capacious fireplace with wrought andirons, crane and fender, large enough for huge logs to blaze, sputter and crackle of a cold winter's evening lighting up the whole room into a cheerful glow. On the ingle nooks, situated on either side of the great fireplace arranged on shelves sunk in the wall, were rows of pewter mugs, flasks, decanters and Delft china, with an occasional piece of crystal or old silver reflecting the interior of the room in their polished surfaces. They occupied a conspicuous place or ground of vantage as if in recognition of past grandeur. There was an air of prosperity about the place that at once betokened old time hospitality. Well-filled cellar and larder with their good cheer and fellowship that had made the Tavern noted from far and near to the traveller in need of sup or lodging. Smuggling in those days was an art, the only offense in being caught; this profession could name many adepts at this practice from all grades of society. Many were the times had you been so fortunate as to have met mine host of the Ridgefield Tavern in the wee small hours of morning returning from one of his pilgrimages to the shore, hastily planned, and had you belonged to the inner circle of his acquaintances you would have been regaled by some rare old vintage that "my friend, Captain Harley, had brought me on his return from Spain" and with a wink added, "They receive many such remembrances or favors for little services and acts of courtesy to merchants between ports." Many casks, demijohns and bottles of ancient appearance were hidden away in an inner chamber of the cellar, from time to time brought forth from their cobweby resting places to celebrate some special occasion. The effect upon the sharers of these liquid treasures was all that could be desired, promoting many interchanges of confidence over the flowing bowl between the special favorites and habitues of the Ridgefield Tavern. A connoisseur of liquors and wines was never disappointed as to quality and flavor of the beverages placed before him. Nathaniel Bishop, the genial host of the Tavern, was descended from sturdy Puritan stock. His ancestors eminent in the Council of State: one of the earlier of whom James Bishop, the most illustrious man in the New Haven Colony early in the Seventeenth Century at its date of union with Connecticut Colony, having held the office of magistrate, commissioner, secretary and deputy governor at the time of his death. Nathaniel was a man of parts, large of heart, and the soul of hospitality and good fellowship. He was strongly imbued with the principles of rectitude, jovial |