Remarks followed, Messrs. Paine, Rice, Wheeler, Salisbury and Crane participating. On motion of the latter gentleman, a vote of thanks was extended Mr. Geer for the historic relics.

Henry M. Wheeler was then introduced by the President, and read the following account of

SHIBBODEE TURRU-WURRU.

In the month of June, 1895, I took a carriage ride with my wife through the southeastern part of this State. One day we reached the village of North Raynham over the straight and wide Boston Turnpike, shaded by tall and handsome elms, within the village limits. My attention, as I drove along, was attracted by an old and somewhat dilapidated dwelling-house, situated several hundred feet back from the road, beyond a field of waving grass thickly studded with bright daisies. One object of my journey was to hunt out old houses and obtain pictures of them, together with their history, if any. I alighted from my carriage and proceeded by a winding way which led to the old house and continued its course beyond it. At the entrance of this way there stood a neat white cottage, and close to and alongside of the old house there was another. In answer to my knock at the second cottage, a neatly dressed negro woman came to the door, of whom I inquired who built the old house, what was its age, had it any history, and why was it unoccupied and rapidly going to decay. She replied that it was built by Toby Gilmore, she did not know when, and she could not give any account of its history. She said that her husband knew something about it, but he was not at home. She thought if I would go to Mr. -'s house across the pike, he would tell me all I wished to know, for she was sure that he was well acquainted with the history of it. Accordingly, I retraced my steps down the winding way past the waving grass and

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the nodding daisies, crossed the pike, and stood before the side door of another trim, white cottage. A comely negro woman answered my rap, and to my inquiry if she could tell me about the old house and who Toby Gilmore was, said, with great astonishment, "My! Bress you! Don't you know Toby Gilmore? Where you lived all dis time dat you never heerd ob Toby Gilmore? Shure your edication must ha ben neglected!" As meekly as possible, and as downcast as a rejected civil service candidate, I said that I had never heard of Toby Gilmore, and this was my first visit to that part of the universe. I further said, in the attempt to raise myself in her estimation, that I had heard of a Gilmore who was famous as a musician, and I knew a Gilmore who was a dentist. She said she did not think they were of any account and had nothing to do with Toby. Recovering her composure, she said if I would wait till her Sam came home, he could answer my questions. Thanking her for her attention, and declining the invitation to remain, I started to return to my carriage when she called out, "Toby's cannon's in de barn, ef you'd like to see it." Not having any more acquaintance with the cannon than with Toby himself, and fearing to exhibit further ignorance, I declined going to the barn. (I was sorry afterwards that I did not go.) All efforts to increase my stock of knowledge in that particular direction having been unsuccessful, I prepared to take a picture of the old house, which was a reality, even if Toby turned out to be a myth. While placing my camera in position two negro women came from the first cottage already mentioned and entered into conversation with me. I put the same questions to them that I had to the others. Their replies varied but little from those I had already received; their man had gone away, but the whole story had been written out and published in a paper, and he knew where it was, and they had not seen it for a long time. Really, thought I, knowledge has been dispensed to the men of this village and they

carry it away with them, leaving the women in total ignorance during their absence. They returned to the house, and soon came out again bringing a newspaper with them, just as I had finished my work. I hastily ran over the article pointed out and took down a few items therefrom, which I will now present, asking your pardon for occupying so much time with this long introduction.

Shibbodee Turru-Wurru, the son of an African chief, was stolen, with others, when he was about sixteen years old, in 1757, from the coast of Africa, and placed on a slave ship which sailed for the United States. Her destination was Norfolk, Virginia, but a storm drove her into Newport, Rhode Island, where a part of her cargo of human beings was offered for sale at auction. Captain John Gilmore of North Raynham, a respected citizen of the town and a prosperous farmer, was also owner of a schooner in which he traded at various ports along the coast. Being in Newport at the time of the arrival of the slave ship and hearing of the sale of a part of the slaves, he attended the auction and was so impressed with Shibbodee Turru-Wurru's appearance that he purchased him, took him to his home and put him to work on his farm. The slave was bright, active, trustworthy, became a valuable servant, and won the affection of the captain's family. Mrs. Gilmore taught him to read and cipher, and he received the name of Toby Gilmore. When the war for independence broke out eighteen years after the events just narrated, Toby was full of zeal to do his part in the strife and enlisted as a soldier. Captain Gilmore, not to be outdone by his servant, gave Toby his freedom. He was assigned to an artillery company, was promoted for faithfulness and bravery, and became a general favorite with officers and men. Subsequently, he was attached to General Washington as one of his body servants, and was with him when he crossed the Delaware in 1776. At the close of the war he received his discharge and was presented

with a ten-pound field piece, which was christened "Old Toby," as a token of the esteem in which he was held by his fellow soldiers. For more than fifty years thereafter "Old Toby" was used on Taunton Green to fire salutes on national occasions. While he lived, Toby, in his faded but well-kept regimentals, was the principal figure in these noisy demonstrations. After the usual number of salutes had been fired on Washington's birthday, he always wound up with "Now, one more for Massa Washington. At the time of Shays' Rebellion in 1782 and 1783, "Old Toby" was loaded with grape-shot ready for service, if needed. Its days of service came to an end when a brass cannon was presented to the town of Taunton, and "Old Toby" since then has rested on its laurels in the keeping of its owner's descendants. When Toby returned from the war, he resumed his services with Captain Gilmore, who left the care of the farm to him. He was frugal in his habits and saved his wages, which were added to the pay he received as a soldier. While contented with his situation on the farm, he looked forward to the time when he could possess one of his own. The opportunity came when the estate of one Borland, a Tory, was confiscated and offered for sale at auction. There was one lot of fifty acres which Toby wanted. All of the neighbors were aware of his desire, and at the sale he was the only bidder, and the property became his for a comparatively small sum. The auctioneer or some other person questioned his ability to pay for the land, but Captain Gilmore said, "I will back Toby's purchase note. About this time he married Rosannah Hack of Taunton, a worthy woman, and they began life for themselves in a modest cottage which Toby built on his newly acquired property. The first purchase of live stock was a cow; not long after a second was added, then a pig, a yoke of oxen, and a cart, and lastly a horse. He toiled diligently, worked for his neighbors when opportunity offered, and accumulated some money. As his family

increased, he wanted a larger and better house. When he was able, he built the house to which reference has been made. It was patterned after Captain Gilmore's, but was a larger and more expensive one than his. In this he lived a plain, earnest, Christian man, respected by his neighbors, and died in April, 1812. His wife survived him and died in 1844, at the age of eighty-four. They had four sons— Toby, Timothy, Squire and Seabury, and four daughters— Rosannah, Delia, Selina and Nancy. His grandchildren numbered twenty-three. Nearly all of his posterity exceeded the three-score years and ten; several of them lived to be past eighty. They settled around and near the old homestead, were intelligent, and inherited their ancestor's traits of honesty, frugality, industry and thrift. A traveler passing through the village of North Raynham to-day will notice several neat white cottages on either side of the road, occupied mostly by the descendants of Shibbodee Turru-Wurru.

The thought comes to us and shapes itself into the question which we cannot answer, "What would have been Shibbodee's condition had the slave ship made the port of Norfolk, Virginia, instead of Newport, R. I.?" The same guiding hand which turned our Pilgrim Fathers from their chosen course to these northern shores diverted the slave ship to the same shores, and one of His creatures became a man instead of a chattel. Nominally a slave, Shibbodee was a freeman. Our northern air makes men not slaves. Years before Shibbodee's death this State abolished slavery within its borders, but his master had anticipated the State in her humane and righteous act.