856. 



NEW ENGLAND FARMER. 



475 



CONCORD JAIL. 



Gentlemen : — I read with more than ordinary 

 satisfaction the letter from your correspondent 

 " Here and There," dated " Concord, Massachu- 

 setts, July 31," The revolutionary reminiscences 

 connected with that old town must ever excite in a 

 true American bosom feelings of patriotism, pride, 

 and pleasure. There the first blood of the Amer- 

 ican Revolution was shed, and there lie buried the 

 remains of those who fell ; and tracing from the 

 point of time when that momentous occurrence 

 took place, the events and results of that war of in- 

 dependence ; resting the mind for a moment on 

 that glorious " Declaration" of our fathers, and 

 then coming down " through all the past" to the 

 present, what American heart swells not with admi- 

 ration at the heroic deeds that have accomplished 

 our present prosperity and happiness as a nation, 

 and who is there with one particle of the spirit of 

 '76 in his bosom who does not anathematize any 

 wretched hope or purpose of a dissolution of the 

 Union ? 



But I am straying from my object in writing this, 

 which was to state to you a curious historical remin- 

 iscence connected with Concord. You are aware, 

 I believe, that the pleasant residence of ex-Lieuten- 

 ant Governor Simon Brown, formerly of this city, 

 is on the banks of that same " sluggish Musketo- 

 quid" (Concord) river. Many a pleasant day has 

 it been my lot to pass beneath his hospitable 

 roof, and many an hour have I spent boating on 

 that river, with fowling piece and rod and line ; 

 and the chowder I assisted in eating on its bank 

 last summer, made by the Governor and equal- 

 ing one of Daniel Webster's best, will not soon 

 be forgotton. 



Well, there hangs in one of the parlors of Gov. 

 Brown's house a picture, in water colors, presenting 

 a view, in admirable perspective, of Concord jail 

 and the keeper's house as they were in 1778 ; and 

 that picture is supposed to be by the hand of Sir 

 Archibald Campbell, who was imprisoned in Con- 

 cord jail during that year. 



The picture was sent from England many years 

 ago to a relative of Sir Archibald, and was pre- 

 sented to Gov. Brown by the family, and is care- 

 fully preserved by him. Under it is written, so far 

 as I now remember, " Concord Jail in America." 



By reference to Stedman's History of the Amer- 

 ican War, vol. 1, p. 160, an account of the capture 

 of " Lieutenant Colonel Sir Archibald Campbell," 

 with his troops, will be found, with a letter from 

 Sir Archibald to Sir William Howe, dated " Con- 

 cord Gaol, 14th February, 1777." He describes his 

 treatment, which appears not to have been very 

 satisfactory, and describes very minutely the jail it- 

 self, and closes itself in the following words : 



" In short, sir, was a fire to happen in any cham- 

 ber of the gaol, which is all of wood, the chimney 

 stacks excepted, I might perish in the flames, be- 

 fore the gaoler could go through the ceremony of 

 unbolting the doors; although to do him justice 

 in his station, I really think him a man of hu- 

 manity : his house is so remote that any call from 

 within, especially if the wind is high, might 

 be long of reaching him effectually. 

 " I have the honor to be, &c. 



" Archibald Campbell." 



I confess to having looked upon that old picture, 

 knowing all the interesting circumstances which at- 



tended its production, and its final deposite in the 

 very village where the jail once stood, with as deep 

 an interest as I ever examined any picture in my 

 life. The next day, full of the thought of it, I rod 

 past the spot where the old jail was located, and 

 so on, down to Cambridge, over the ground up 

 which the British troops marched on the morning 

 of the 23d of April, 1775, and over which they re- 

 treated so disastrously on the afternoon of the same 

 day, " in which," says Stedman, " they were driv- 

 en before the Americans Hke sheep." 



One can hardly move in the vicinity of Boston 

 without finding something to stir the memory and 

 set the blood to tingling with thoughts of " those 

 men of old" who suffered everything to found our 

 Union, now so prosperous and which might be so 

 happy. _ B. B. French. 



JVational Intelligencer, Sept. 1, 1856. 



GARGET, OR INFLAMED UDDER, 



The town in which we reside, as well as most of 

 the towns in the vicinity, is strictly an agricultural 

 town, and the attention of farmers has been turned 

 for several years to raising milk for the Boston and 

 other markets in that neighborhood. Of course, cows 

 command a high price, the best are eagerly sought 

 for, even into the States of Maine, New Hamp- 

 shire and Vermont, and the skill of the producer is 

 taxed to ascertain the best modes of feeding and 

 sheltering, in order to produce the largest quantity 

 of milk. Large sums are annually expended for 

 oil and rice meal, corn meal and shorts, in addition 

 to the best hay usually fed to them. On some farms, 

 roots are raised in abundance and fed out, and care 

 is taken of every kind to get as large a flow oi 

 milk as possible. 



These cows run in pastures in summer, and are 

 kejjt in clean and well ventilated stables in winter ; 

 they are carded, fed and watered regularly, appear 

 healthy, and have nothing to do but to chew the 

 cud of quiet contentment, and daily replenish the 

 farmer's pails in return for his bounty and care. 

 But under this systematic attention, the disease 

 which we have named at the head of this article, 

 often materially reduces the profits of the business. 

 Various remedies have been resorted to, but have 

 generally failed to produce any beneficial results. 

 The present loss of milk is not all, for the cow af- 

 fected does not always so entirely recover as not to 

 have her value depreciated, and sometimes perma- 

 nent defects are established. 



A neighbor purchased a fine looking cow a few 

 weeks since, for which he paid fifty dollars. For a 

 week after getting her home, she yielded a good 

 supply of milk, ate well, and promised to be all he 

 expected. At this period, her bag began to swell, 

 appearing to have hard lumps in it, and followed 

 by a flow of bloody milk from one of the teats. 

 The inflammation and hardness increased, until the 

 cow lost appetite, and was altogether in a bad way. 

 The gentleman then had reference to the bound 



