The Last Days of Dogtown

lighthouse of gossip, a beacon signal reminding people of the shocking tale of Black Neal and his Dogtown mistress.

They might stop snickering into her face. They might forget to curl their lips when they told her they had no green thread in stock when the spool was in clear view. But as soon as she turned the corner or left the shop, an eyebrow would arch and someone would recount the particulars of their shocking liaison, with all kinds of indecent details invented out of whole cloth.

Judy considered moving back to the quiet of Dogtown, fixing up her old house, and living far from the wagging tongues. But that idea made her feel even more like walking off a long pier in the cold of the night.

Six weeks after Cornelius died, Judy went to the study, lit a fire, lifted the covers from the desk, and wrote two letters. The first one was addressed to Judge Cook and covered many pages. She explained the reason for her departure from Gloucester and included a long list of instructions about the care of the house. She concluded with heartfelt thanks, an apology for once having misjudged him, and her best wishes.

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The second letter took only a few minutes, and was addressed to Mrs. Harriet Plant.

A month later, Judy Rhines vanished.

When Easter Carter learned that her friend had left Cape Ann without so much as a word to her, she was frantic, angry, and bereft. It was the first time that anyone had ever seen her weep. Louisa sent for Oliver and Polly, who visited at her bedside, where she spent a week eating nothing and drinking only a little beer.

Oliver accosted everyone who came to the store for word of Judy Rhines, and he discovered that she’d hired a buggy to take her to the Ipswich coach stop, where she’d boarded the carriage for Boston.

Her letter arrived in May.

Dearest Easter:

Forgive me. It was wrong of me to leave as

I did, but I could not face your reproaches or your sadness. I could not bear the weight of my

memories or the hatefulness of my neighbors.

I am not as strong as you.

I am living in Cambridge, where our friend

Harriet gave me refuge and found me a position as housekeeper for another dean at the college. I have a room to myself with a door that leads out to a small cottage garden that is to be mine.

My situation is only a few streets away from Harriet’s, which is a great comfort. She has some acquaintances who have welcomed me into their little circle. They are very patient with me. I find it restful to live without a past. Now that the

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spring has arrived, we spinsters stroll along the river, where there is rowing. It makes a pretty sight.

The Harvard boys are merry and gallant for

the most part. One of the lads is to give me his dog when he leaves at the end of term. It is a tiny little creature named Pip, and as different from our Dogtown crew as a berry from a pumpkin.

Already I am quite the fool for him.

Please do not worry about me. Except for

missing you, Oliver, Polly, and their precious boys, I am rarely unhappy. There is one thing that remains heavy on my heart and makes me dare to ask a great favor of you. By now, you have

discovered the banknote. If you can forgive my leaving without a farewell, you will use this money to place a headstone upon his grave. Have them carve his name so there is at least that much of a token that he lived. Knowing your goodness as I do, I don’t doubt that you will do this thing for me. Just writing these words gives me a