LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2201, 16 March 1881, Page 3

LITERATURE.

NATHAN APPLEBY'S MARRIAGE. Mr Palph Tyler, of Hartford, who Is now ninety-four years old, remembers very well seeing and talking with a man who was born in the seventeenth century, eirher in the year 1696 or 1697. Betides this gentleman, Mr Tyler in his boyhood saw and conversed with many men who were soldiers in the Revolutionary War. Thera was a famous club in Hartford in ante-revolutionary days, called the Seven Coppers’ Club, and in the early part of this century many were the tales and traditions current about it. Many of these Mr Tyler has heard. The story of Nathan Appleby, given below, was a tale that was told for years and years. Partly from slight reprints of it the following, with a description of the club itself, has been gleanod. The meetings of the Seven Coppers Club were discontinued as informally as they were begun. There was, however, a certainty about the date of its end that did not exist respecting its origin, of which the recollections were only vague and meager. Like the earth, the Seven Coppers had a creative epoch, though a much longer one than our sphere's was if you take the Book of Genefis —as did the gentlemen who were members of this club—as a record that means precisely what it says. Somewhere back in the days of the French war these seven American subjects of the King of England got in the way of meeting for an hour nightly in Landlord Moses Butler’s comfortable tap-room, than which no other was in better esteem in all Hart ferd town; but none of the members could tell for a certainty when it was that these gatherings became recognised as a social club or were first honored with a name.

Of the day of its dissolution, however, no shade of doubt can exist, informal as that event was. It never held a meeting after the eve of that spring morning in 1775, when Peter Perkins came riding, breathless and heated, up the main street of Hartford, shouting— * The war’s begun ! The British have ehed our blood on Lexington Green I’ This message came within an hour of noontime, and before the sun went down three, and possibly four, of the younger members of the Glob were ready, clad in their bearskin hats, d rk bine snrtouts, and buckskin breeches, with their flint locks in prime order, to join the Continental army at Massachusetts.

Possibly the Seven Coppers might have kept np its nightly meetings, even with ench a break in its membership, had not Landlord Moses Bottler suddenly died. It so happened that (this cheery soul, who was a hearty Rebel, became greatly exoited when he heard Peter Perkins’ message, and they said that his cholur aggravated his dropsy, and sent the disease to his bend. At all events they found him that evening, sitting on his settle by the fire, with bis bead fallen forward, and a rusty musket in hia hand—dead !

Of course, under such sudden and alarming visitations, the Seven Coppers Club erased to exist; bat for some years after, to believe the tale of men, now aged, who get it from their fathers, who were lads in the last days of the Seven Coppers, such elderly members os ’Squire Whytynge and Mr Thomas Pantry used daily to meet about the hour of the setting cf the sun on the bridge over the Little Biver, by whoso banks stood Moses Butler's tavern, and lock sadly at its walls, and speak to each other words that used to call up the most delightful recollections of the happy evenings spent within its doo p s ; and their white and ribboned queues would move from shoulder to shoulder as they mournfully shook their beads ; and then tot teringly they would go away to their homes, soon to be called thence to their last resting place. It seems to have been the purpose of these gentlemen, having met of an evening, to order a mng of flip, and then over it to exexchange the gossip of the day j but there is reason to believe that it specially delight , d them to listen to a tale. By all accounts they had opportunity, now and then, to hear some that were marvellous, and others that were spiced with humor or seasoned with a little blood letting.

In all the years of their association they must have heard many narrations, and it may be {looked upon ss a coincidence that of all the tales told there have been handed down of these only seven. This coincidence will be perceived when wa call to mind the number seven in the name, the number seven of the members, and the same number of coppers that each paid for a mug of flip. And this is more remarkable when we learn that the repute on the Seven Coppers Club, as a gathering where the conversation was of merit and the tales a delight, spread thronghont the length and breadth of the colony. The sun having gone down on the evening of October 10th, 1766, leaving behind an apprehension of frost, Landlord Moses kindled a glorious fire of hickory logs upon his broad hearth, and set the kettle where it could speedily steam. Next he drew the wide-seated oaken chairs into a semi circle, so that each of the seven members could be gladdened by the glow of the flames. Then, having lighted two candles, he set them upon the little shelf or one-legged table that served him for all the purposes of hia calling. This was a simple contrivance, yet one in which Moses took great delight, for he conceived it himself. It was merely a slab of chestnut wood, highly polished by frequent handling, and richly stained by the overflow that followed his generous filling of the mugs. The special ingenuity that delighted Moses was the leather hinge that attached one end of the slab to the door of the cupboard wherein was the jug that held the Medford rum, and also the other hinge that permitted the leg such freedom of perpendicular motion that it lay folded against the slab when Moses lifted both and fastened them against the cupboard door. Now, Moaes had an artistic eyo, and he had there fore caused the under side of this slab to be de orated with the head of King George the Third—for Moses was not then a Hebei—or rather with a head that, notwithstanding the poverty of coloiing and scarcity of painters, was intended for such representation. It mattered little that the leg, when the slab was raised, cut off from view the likeness of the royal nose, for Moses and the Seven Coppers knew that, though hidden, the nose was there. In the evening, however, this decorated side of the slab was seldom visible, for Moses let it down at such times from the wall, that he might use it an a table.

The landlord on this evening did not wait long for the arrival of the members. They oma goon after the setting of the sun, and seated themselves without other ceremony than a ci urteons good evening, and begin at ones to call—all for fl ; p, seme for pipes besides Moses mixed the seven mugs of flip, and set one for each member. His copy apartment was speedily fragrant wi'h au aroma pleasing and suggestive. Having received Ws seven coppers in payment from each gentleman, Moses’ active labors were over. He seated himself behind his move able table, with hia head between t ho brightly polished candlesticks, and with a pair of snuffers in his hand, it was a pleasure fi-.r him, when the point of a tale or the sparkle of a repartee offered opp utnnity, to snuff a candle as a mark cf approval, and happy was that member of the Seven Cop pera who so embellished a narrative or spot- e with such wit ttat Moses snuffed both caudles consecutively, for that was a special token of approbation. The commendation of the landlord, who was regarded as a man of keen judgment, was gr-atly pr zed. ’Squire W hytynge sat in 'he chair nearest t K e fire on this evening, and it happened that Mr Ziohariah Coodwing w s next to him. The features of these gentlemen wore so lighted by the flames that you might have noted the varying expressions that played upon them. As for toe others, barely more than their forma and the outlines of their faces were visible, partly by reason of the distance they sat from the candles, but prin c'pally because of the haze that the pipes of Mr Birch wood and Mr Pnrchas threw about th-ew about them. The rays of candle-light and of firelight did cause the buckles of their shoos, and the buttons at the knees f t their small-clothes, to glisten, and there was nothing that old Thomas Pantry better liked to fix his eyes upon than these rparkling adornments. ’cqnire Whytyngo sipped a little from his mug, and then placing it upon tho broad arm of his oaken chair, awaited tho opening of tke conversation. Thereupon the other gont'emen did the same, if we make excep lion of Mr Pantry, who kept bis mug in i is hand, for he liked the warmth of it, and Mr Bichard Taylcoatt, who favored tho aroma almost as much as be did the flavor, and

therefore held hlB mng in snob position that big nostril*) were gratified durirg the temporary satiety of his taste. * Who might the stranger be who rode into town this morning V Mr Pnrohas inquired, of no one in particular; bnt anxious to begin gos ip. ‘He whore qnenn was awry, as with violent riding, and whose dress was soiled with mud ?’ asked Mr Nicholas .Birohwood, who withdrew his pipe from his lips only iong enough to put the question. ‘Ah, neighbor Liichwood,’ said Mr Pantry, in the quornllous tone of age, and with the o- ndescecsion of manner that they pardoned in a man whore grandfather led in 'he assault on the P> quot Indians a hundred y< ars before. ‘ Ah, neighbor Birchwood, yon have the observant eye of your mother, and a bright maiden she was, and a brighter m-.trcn she is, and who keeps her youth well. You speak, I’ll venture, of him t> whom neighbor Purchis made reference.’ ‘Surely.’ said . quire Whytjnge, ‘my grandson did fay to mo that the stranger stopped at y*iur doo-, neighbor Taylooatt,' *lt is of him you speak ?’. asked Mr Taylcoatt, with an accent of surprise, although he was well aware, when Mr Pnrohas made the inquiry, to whom he referred. ‘ I know not whether his queue was awry or not, though I did observe that his boots and breeches were soiled with bird riding. 'I hat vas Mr Giles Cadet, of New London, who beaieth me the relation of cousin twice removed.’

* He who is in troth for his second wife to the widow Ainaloy. who dwells on the Farmington place,’ said Mr Robert Blumfield, with the positivem ss of speech that became a bachelor who was, perhaps, on that account, the first to learn of sentimental matters and observe what lads and maids cast eyes at each other over the high-backed pews of a Sunday, and who could always tell upon the night of the Lord’s day where every young fellow in town was visiting. ‘The same,' replied Mr Taylooatt. ‘He rested with me for an honr, and is now with the widow at her father’s, as I believe. I offered hospitality to him. and to his beast, and ho did make mention of many of the affaiis of the day in his part of the country. I recall now a ciroumstir.ee of which he spoke, a very singular circumstance,’ Here Mr Taylooatt sipped from his mug, and seemed disposed to whet his hearers’ curiosity by delay. ‘You will tell us of that, if it is not in confidence,’ pleaded Mr Paniry, whose trembling voice was more qaernlons than usual by reason of his eagerness. ‘Being desired, I will.'repiiDd Mr Taylcoatt, and receiving unanimous consent, as he had expected, he began. ‘ Mr Giles Cutlet, neighbor, is a God-fear-ing man, with the love of truth in him. He did assert that, no longer ago than Saturday afternoon, a large he bear appeared nponthomain street of New London, and was at once pursued and greatly pelted with clnbs and stones, for no one dared to fire a musket lest some of the crowd ba wounded, peradventure killed. So the boast escaped to the threat South Meadow, of which you know by hoarsay.’ • Aye, and by eyesight too,’ said Mr Pantry, with some vanity of expression, ‘ for I did visit the town in my youth,’ ‘ There,’ continued Mr Taylooatt, ‘he was shot, and roasted whole, and many sapped off him.’

‘I do marvel at that greatly,’said Mr Purohas, ‘ for in our lime such events do not often happen, though I have heard my grandfather speak cf some such thing.’ ‘ Were not Mr t'nllet a truth-telling maa I should believe he had spoken in exaggeration,’ said Mr Birchword. ‘As it is, lam astounded at the daring of the brute,’ ‘ So am I,’ said Mr Blumfield, * but less at the tale thin that neighbor Good wing finds in it something to make merry about.’ • I observed his mirth,’ said Squire Whytynge, ‘ and I see no cause for laughter,’ and the old gentleman turned his head, so that his chin rubbed against his linen frill, and he looked reprovingly at Mr Goodwiag. (To he Continued.)