Among the guests at Bradford’s Tavern the memory of some lingers in my mind. When I was quite young, perhaps about the year 1830, a stranger arrived at the tavern on the evening stage from Boston, who was destined to keep the tongue of gossip wagging for some time. He was somewhat portly, but moderate in height, and dressed in linen and broadcloth of immaculate neatness and fashionable in style. His name was Surrey, but the register contained no place of residence. Occasional visitors for a day or two were not uncommon, and excited no remark, but when this stranger remained for a week or more with neither acquaintance nor business to protract his stay, the gossips began to wonder who he was, whence he came, to what nationality he belonged, and what the purpose of his visit could be. In suitable weather he took his morning and evening walk about the town, making no visits, entering no store or church or public meeting, and asking no questions concerning the town or people. From his dignified bearing he won the name of Lord Surrey, and was never referred to by any other name. He made occasional excursions to Boston, where apparently he received funds, and bought new clothes. He paid his board promptly, and his habits and demeanor were beyond criticism. At the end of a year he left town and gossips were left to wonder where he had gone, whether he was a refugee from abroad, or whether he was merely an eccentric man who was floating about the world at the dictate of a capricious will. I remember another visitor at the tavern quite as mysterious, a man of gentlemanly appearance, who could not speak a word of English, and who remained six months without disclosing his nationality, and went as he came, a stranger in a strange land. Mr. Salisbury Jackson, whose humor led him to speak of every day incidents in a manner to amuse his hearers, in describing a visit to the unknown, said that he tried him in French, but found that he was not a Frenchman. He then tried him in Spanish, but he was not a Spaniard. He then tried him in German, but he was not a German. He then, after failing to make him out an Italian, tried him in the original tongue and fixed him. No efforts of available linguists could fix his nationality more successfully than the humor of Mr. Jackson, and he went as he came, and was for a long time remembered as the mysterious stranger. In 1857 the tavern house was sold to Wm. Churchill, who sold it to Wm. Finney, who resold it to Mr. Churchill, from whom it was bought by the Baptist Society in 1862. From 1857 to the date of his death, December 7, 1863, Mr. Bradford boarded with Jacob Howland, who occupied chambers in the Witherell building on the corner of Main street and Town Square.