The  public  inn  then  had  a  relative  importance  to  the  world
of  wayfarers  that  is  not  now  represented  by  any  brown-stone  or
marble  front  hotel.  The  distances  from  Boston  in  every  direc-
tion were  reckoned  to  the  taverns.  The  landlord  was  a  man  of
note.  He  was  the  village  newsmonger,  oracle,  and  referee  in
all  disputes.  When  he  had  a  full  house  his  guests  were  dis-
tributed about  the  floors,  and  the  dining-table  commanded  a
premium.  The  charge  for  meals  or  for  baiting  a  horse  was
a  quarter  of  a  dollar.  If  the  world  moved  then  more  slowly
than  it  now  does,  it  was  not  the  less  content.
The  tavern  was  also  the  political  centre  where  caucuses  were
held  and  the  state  of  the  country  discussed.  It  was  ofttimes
there  town-meetings  were  convened,  and  in  war  times  it  was
the  recruiting  rendezvous.  Proclamations,  notices  of  that  mul-
tifarious character  pertaining  to  the  interior  economy  of  the
village,  from  the  reward  for  the  apprehension  of  a  thief  to  the
loss  of  a  favorite  brooch,  were  aflixed  to  the  bar-room  walls.
The  smell  of  old  Santa  Cruz  or  other  strong  waters  saluted  the
nostrils  of  all  who  entered  the  public  room,  and  yet  there  was
caU  for  neither  fumigation  nor  exorcism.  The  mail-coach,
which  only  stopped  to  change  horses,  occupied  forty-eight  hours
in  going  over  this  route  from  Boston  to  Portland.  Concord
coaches  succeeded  the  old  English  pattern,  and  still  traverse
here  and  there  a  few  byways  into  which  the  railway  disdains
to  turn  aside.
132       HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF    MIDDLESEX.
