One of the "general" stores of Northborough before 1850 was kept by Captain Cyrus Gale and Abraham W. Seaver. A perusal of their cash books and ledgers discloses the fact that liquor was one of their most popular articles of trade. They were a progressive firm, always seeking to increase their business. One of the novelties they employed to that end was the custom of giving a glass of "flip" to every customer whose purchase amounted to one dollar, or more. Needless to say, they never lacked for customers.

But the custom grew into an evil which the firm soon recognized as such; and they determined not only to do away with the custom but to discontinue the sale of liquor altogether. They adopted a sensational way of doing it, which became "the talk of the town." They took their liquor retainers into the street, knocked in their heads and poured the liquor into the street. Some of their customers vowed that they would never enter the store again. They kept their vows about three months, but they gradually drifted back. Both Captain Gale and Mr. Seaver became rabid temperance reformers.

The temperance reform had gained such headway in Northborough by 1836 that the people suffered the name of the beautiful eminence in the center of the town-“Liquor Hill❞—to be changed. The story of how it was done is told in the next chapter.

The following extract from a private letter will show that the temperance agitation had worked its way into politics and that it had become a live issue as early as 1838. The letter was written by Anson Rice, who was then Postmaster of Northborough, to his friend, Dr. Joshua J. Johnson, who was living temporarily in St. Louis. He says:

"The political community in this town has been very quiet since you left, until a day or two. It has been kept very still about candidates for Representative, the temperance and liberals both appear to be afraid to have it known who their candidates are. Last Saturday evening I was told that C. Gale, Esq., had put up a public notice, in pursuance of a circular sent to him by the Whig County Committee, calling on all in favor of the regular Whig nominations to meet at the Town Hall on Wednesday evening next.

"This seems to trouble the 'Striped Pigs' liberals very much. They complain that it is unfair; that it ought to have been a call to all the Whigs. So, to steal a march on the temperance call they posted notices yesterday, calling a meeting of the Whigs on Tuesday evening. What the result will be I cannot tell."

The letter is dated November 5, 1838.

The author was interested in the expression "striped pigs" in the above extract, and made diligent inquiry to ascertain its meaning. He finally learned that an encampment of the State militia was held at Dedham, in 1840. A State law of the time prohibited the sale of liquor except in large quantities This law was evaded at this encampment in this way: A tent bearing at its entrance a sign advertising a "striped pig" on exhibition was erected on the grounds. By paying admission to the exhibition one discovered on entering, that the "striped pig" was nothing more or less than a bar for the sale of liquor. The exhibition did a thriving business.

The above encampment was held in 1840. Mr. Rice's letter was written in 1838. Thus, it would seem that the temperance reform movement, which was destined to amend the Constitution of the United States, was fairly under way during the thirties. It is a source of pride that Northborough's participation in that reform began in 1817. Thus, was Northborough a pioneer in the movement for national prohibition.

CHAPTER XVII

MOUNT ASSABET

Mount Assabet is one of the most beautiful topographical features of Northborough. Down to the year 1836 it was known as "Liquor Hill." That such a beautiful hill in the very center of the town should bear such an incongruous name seems not to have given the inhabitants of the town any uneasiness. Perhaps from their point of view there was no incongruity, for "liquor" in those days was a household word. Liquor drinking formed a large part of the common life of the time. But the sentiment of the people all over the country underwent a change during the first quarter of the nineteenth century. For ten years previous to 1836 the town of Northborough was considerably stirred up over this social custom. A reform had set in. Then it was that the inappropriateness of the name "Liquor Hill" as applied to one of the most beautiful natural features of the town began to dawn upon the minds of the people.

The first suggestion that the name be changed appears in The Meteor, a little paper published by some of Dr. Allen's schoolboys. In the issue of June 18, 1836, appears the following contribution from a correspondent who signs himself "N": He says: "There is in the center of this town a beautiful hill which goes by the unromantic name of 'Liquor Hill.' It derived its name from the following circumstance:

"There was formerly at the foot of this hill, a tavern, at which an Indian stopped one day to have his bottle replenished. On his return home, he passed over the hill, and sat down under a tree to take another refreshing draught, not being able to resist the temptation any longer. When he had drunk until he was entirely disabled from proceeding any farther, his bottle (one of the ancient form in the shape of a small keg), by some unhappy accident, slipped from his grasp and rolled down the hill. The Indian eyed it wistfully on its rapid course, and, hearing the peculiar sound of the liquor issuing from its mouth, called after it, 'Ay, good, good, good! I hear you, but I can't get at you!'

"Ever since this incident occurred the hill has been called by the name aforesaid; but we think that, in this age of Temperance and Improvement, so pretty a hill should not be suffered to retain so ugly a name. For these reasons, we would propose that such of our subscribers as like the plan, should send us their

opinions, and suggest a better name, before the publication of the next number. We should prefer an Indian name."

This communication called out the following letter which was published in the issue of July 2, 1836:

"MR. EDITOR:

"In the last number of the Meteor, I noticed an article relating to Liquor Hill, so-called, giving an account of the origin of the name and suggesting a very good idea-that the appellation should be changed for one more romantic, or at least, better suited to the present state of the times.

"I have often noticed that as a stranger comes into our village, this hill is the first object to attract his attention; and he very naturally inquires, 'What is the name of the beautiful hill opposite your church?' 'Liquor Hill,' is the reply. 'But why was this name given to it?' 'O, because,'-some small boy answers;—and this is about as much of a reason as most of our people are able to give. Here the curiosity of the stranger ends. It pleased his imagination at first view, but the name has dispelled the charm, the poetry of the scenery has gone. It is seldom that he ascends to the top, and even among our own inhabitants, how few have stood upon its summit and beheld the beautiful prospect which opens to their view-how beautiful, how interesting to the humble admirer of nature! But the name-Liquor Hill! Whence this insignificant name? 'O, because'-just because some straggling Indian spilt a quart of whiskey on its top-a very silly reason, sure enough. And I am gratified to find that others think so besides myself.

"Mr. Editor, I have heard it suggested that Assabet, the name of the stream which runs through the village, would be a good appellation. I have no objection to its being so-called, but allow me to propose one which I think better-Sachemachusett; 'Sachem', a chief, a ruler, and 'chusett', a hill: Sachemachusett, the King of Hills.

"But some of your readers may inquire, why call it the King of Hills? My answer is, not because it is the largest hill in town, for a king is by no means always the largest man of a nation, but because his throne is generally near the center of his dominions, and he overlooks his subjects. As in an Indian council, the sachem takes his stand by himself and is surrounded by the people of his tribe, so it is with this hill. It is not the largest in town, but it is the most beautiful and commanding. Therefore, let us cease to call it by its present vulgar appellation, and give it a name of which it is so worthy-'Sachemachusett.'

"GEORGIUS."

The proposition to change the name met with a ready response, and "it was not difficult to fix upon the name Mount Assabet, from the river of that name which runs through the town," says the author of the Allen "Memorial." This same "Memorial" goes on to say, that: "A celebration was set on foot for the 4th of July, 1836. The whole town participated. The multitude gathered on the hill, and after a collation and other festivities, an open barrel of water was rolled down the hill to efface the memory of the liquor spilled there, while the children sang with energy two songs written for the occasion by our mother. Altogether it was one of the pleasantest affairs the village had known."

Up to that time the town had not been in the habit of celebrating the Fourth of July, though a patriotic address had been delivered the previous year. As this event marks the beginning of Fourth of July celebrations we have thought it worth while to reproduce here an account of this great day which appeared in The Meteor under date of July 16. It said:

"The day was celebrated in this village in a new and interesting manner. Arrangements were made for a general gathering together of the children belonging to the different schools in town, on the Hill which has been mentioned in our former numbers. A picnic entertainment was provided for them by their parents and friends, and at an early hour on Monday morning several young ladies and gentlemen assembled on the Hill to make the necessary preparations.

"The tables were arranged in the form of a hollow square on the slope of the hill, commanding a beautiful view of the village, and having the center filled with seats for the children. They were loaded with the munificent contributions of their friends, and were tastefully decorated with flowers; and when the seats were filled with smiling and happy faces it was one of the most beautiful and interesting sights that could be imagined.

"A short address was expected to be delivered, and in front of the seats was a platform raised for the speaker. In the center of the table, and directly in front of the speaker, on the top of a large loaf of cake was a figure of the identical Indian himself, with tomahawk in hand, and bottle slung over his shoulder. He was a fine, sturdy-looking Indian, and doubtless had no expectation at the time he spilt his whiskey, of being thus immortalized.

"The weather was rather doubtful all the morning; but one o'clock holding out every promise of a fair afternoon, the bells rang a merry peal as a signal for the children to assemble. And