The next morning by six o'clock, a large number of persons had gathered
on the green at Stockbridge, in consequence of an understanding that
those intending to witness the goings on at Barrington, should
rendezvous at the tavern, and go down together, whereby their own
hearts would be made stronger, and their enemies the more impressed.
A good many had, indeed, gone on ahead, singly, or in parties. Meshech
Little, who lived on the Barrington road, said that he hadn't had a
wink of sleep since four o'clock, for the noise of passing teams and
pedestrians. Those who owned horses and carts, including such men as
Israel Goodrich and Ezra Phelps, had preferred that mode of locomotion,
but there were, nevertheless, as many as one hundred men and boys in
the muster on the green. Perhaps a quarter of them had muskets, the
others carried stout cudgels.

All sorts of rumors were flying about. One story was that the militia
had been ordered out with a dozen rounds of cartridges, to defend the
court and jail. Some even had heard that a cannon had been placed in
front of the court house, and trained on the Stockbridge road. On the
other hand, it was asserted that the court would not try to sit at
all. As now one, and now another, of these contradictory reports
prevailed, ebullitions of courage and symptoms of panic alternated
among the people. It was easy to see that they contemplated the
undertaking, on which they were embarking, not without a good deal of
nervousness. Abner was going from group to group, trying to keep up
their spirits.

"Hello," he exclaimed, coming across Jabez Flint. "Look a here, boys.
Derned ef Jabez ain't a comin long with the res' on us. Wal, Jabez, I
swow, I never callated ez I sh'd be a fightin long side o' ye. Misry