Stage-coach and Tavern Days

by Alice Morse Earle

Sign-board of
Wells’ Tavern.

Tom Cook became well known throughout Massachusetts, and indeed throughout New England, as a most extraordinary thief. His name appears in the records of scores of New England towns; he was called “the honest thief”; and his own name for himself was “the leveller.” He stole from the rich and well-to-do with the greatest boldness and dexterity, equalled by the kindness and delicacy of feeling shown in the bestowal of his booty upon the poor and needy. He stole the dinner from the wealthy farmer’s kitchen and dropped it into the kettle or on the spit in a poor man’s house. He stole meal and grain from passing wagons and gave it away before the drivers’ eyes. A poor neighbor was ill, and her bed was poor. He went to a thrifty farm-house, selected the best feather bed in the house, tied it in a sheet, carried it downstairs and to the front door, and asked if he could leave his bundle there for a few days. The woman recognized him and forbade him to bring it within doors, and he went off with an easy conscience.

In Dr. Parkman’s diary, now in the library of the American Antiquarian Society at Worcester, under the date of August 27, 1779, is this entry: “The notorious Thom. Cook came in (he says) on Purpose to see me. I gave him w^t admonition, Instruction, and Caution I could—I beseech God to give it force! He leaves me with fair Words—thankful and promising.” There came a time when his crime of arson or burglary led to his trial, conviction, and sentence to death. He heard the awful words of the judge, “I therefore sentence you to be hanged by the neck till you are dead, dead, dead,” and he called out cheerfully, “I shall not be there on that day, day, day.” And when that day came, surely enough, his cell was empty.

Tom Cook was most attractive in personal appearance; agile, well formed, well featured, with eyes of deepest blue, most piercing yet most kindly in expression. He was adored by children, and his pockets were ever filled with toys which he had stolen for their amusement. By older persons he was feared and disliked. He extorted from many wealthy farmers an annual toll, which exempted them from his depredations. One day a fire was seen rising from the chimney of a disused schoolhouse in Brookline, and Tom was caught within roasting a stolen goose, which he had taken from the wagon of a farmer on his way to market. The squire took him to the tavern, which was filled with farmers and carters, many of whom had been his victims. He was given his choice of trial and jail, or to run a gantlet of the men assembled. He chose the latter, and the long whips of the teamsters paid out many an old score of years’ standing.

A very amusing story of highway robbery is told of John Buckman of Buckman’s Tavern, of Lexington, Massachusetts (which is shown on [page 23]). An old toper bought a bottle of rum, and the by-standers jokingly asked him what he would do if he were attacked on the road. He answered solemnly that he would rather give up his life than his rum. John Buckman slipped out of the room, took a brass candlestick that had a slide that could be snapped with a noise like the trigger of a pistol. He waylaid the rum-lover not far from the tavern, and terrified him so that he quickly gave up his beloved bottle. This was a famous joke when John told it in the tavern taproom, but John did not laugh the next day when he was arrested for highway robbery and fined fifty dollars.

In the year 1818 there took place the nearest approach to a highway robbery on the English methods that had ever happened in America. It was the robbery of the mail-coach which ran between Baltimore and Philadelphia. The story is thus told by one of the victims:—

“Havre de Grace,
“Thursday morning, 4 o’clock.

“John H. Barney, Esq.,

“Sir: I take the earliest opportunity to send you by an express an account of what happened to the mail last evening. About 2 miles from this place the driver of your mail wagon and myself were attacked by three highwaymen, each armed with a double barrelled pistol and a dirk. They had, previous to our arrival, built a rail fence across the road, and immediately on our driving up they leaped from behind the same, where they lay concealed, and presented their pistols, threatening to blow our brains out if we made any resistance. We were then carried some distance from the road into the woods; there they tied the driver and myself to a tree and commenced searching the mail. Every letter was opened and all the bank notes taken out; they showed me a large bundle of bills, and I much fear the loss will be found very great. They were from 11 until 3 o’clock busily employed in opening the letters. After they had done this they tied us to the back of the wagon, mounted three of the horses and galloped off towards Baltimore. They were all white men—had their faces blackened, and neither of them appeared more than 20. I have just arrived at this place and have stated the facts to the deputy postmaster, who will use every exertion to recover the letters that remain in the woods. They did not take anything belonging to me, & appeared not to wish anything but bank notes. They were all dressed in sailor’s trowsers and round jackets, & were about the middle size; two wearing hats & the other having a silk handkerchief tied around his head.

“I am your obt. servt.
“Thos. W. Ludlow.