[Written for The Flag of Our Union]
The Midnight Alarm
by James Dabney
The village of H—was one of the quietest and most orderly places in New England. From the days of the Pilgrim Fathers down to the time of which we write, it had always maintained a reputation for soberness, steadiness and morality and its inhabitants were among the most rigid and straitlaced in the land. Even the little children were grim and sour enough to have made old Praise God Barebones’s heart leap with joy, could he have seen them. Not a case of crime or misdemeanor had occurred in the village for fifty years, and the last person hung there was a Quaker who had the boldness to attempt to propagate his “infamous doctrines” in the good town of H—in the days of the colony.
This being the state of affairs, the reader may imagine the horror and consternation of the townspeople when it was announced, one Sunday morning, that the store of Deacon Harding had been robbed of several hundred dollars’ worth of goods on the previous night. This startling news was followed by the equally startling announcement that Squire Wilson’s horse and wagon had been stolen, also, no doubt by the thief or thieves, for the purpose of carrying off the plunder.
The news was absolutely so startling that few persons went to church that day; but the majority of them might have been collected here and there in little knots, discussing the momentous event. It seemed incredible that any one should have committed such a crime in H—, and each man, woman and child set to work to remember what strangers had been in the place of late. No one could recollect… Read More