by Barbara Rimkunas
This "Historically Speaking" column was published in the Exeter News-Letter on Friday, September 17, 2025.
In 1803, there arose in Exeter a case of pig-napping. Local doctor, Amos Windship, stood accused of stealing Moses Thurston’s pig. Windship refused to relinquish the pig, for a number of reasons, without ever denying that he had stolen the pig. Although this seems like an unremarkable dispute, the origins of the issue date back to the early days of English settlement.
Pigs are not native to the Americas but were a major part of the foodways in Europe. When the English arrived in the Exeter region, they brought their pigs with them, which created all sorts of problems. Unlike cattle, pigs were allowed to roam freely in the village and woodlands to forage for food. This caused great disruption to the agriculture that had been perfected over generations by indigenous people. Rooting pigs uprooted the planted crops that were grown in open areas. Since there had been an agreement drawn up by the Reverend John Wheelwright and Sagamore Wehenownowit that protected, “onely the ground which is broken up,” sometimes the English had to pay for damages done by their domesticated swine. One dispute, in 1641, required a townsman to pay “the Indeans one bushell of corne for the labor which was spent by them in replanting of that corn of theirs which was spoyld by his swine and he to make up their loss at harvest.”
Indeed, swine laws were some of the first laws recorded in Exeter. After a few more such incidents – this time by swine spoiling townsmen’s crops – it was time to pass some regulations. At the town meeting in March of 1646, it was ordered that all swine were required to be "sufficiently yoked by the first day of April next.” Yokes, which prevented the pigs from rooting up planted crops, were made of wood. The size of the yoke was dependent on the size and age of the pig. It also prevented them from escaping through gaps in fencing. Fencing laws were the other heavily enforced regulations in town. Henry Roby was elected as “finder” to located and restrain any unyoked swine. Back in England, he would have been called the swine reeve, although that name does not appear to have been used in Exeter. The following year, owners were required to keep their swine in styes or yards from the first week in April to the first week in November. Fines for loose or rooting swine could be quite steep (eighteen pence plus an additional eighteen pence to the owner of the land).
By 1659, yoking swine was no longer practiced. Instead, the more barbaric practice of ringing the pig’s snout was used. This is different from placing a ring in the nose of an ox, which requires piercing the septum. The pig’s snout was crimped with copper rings that were intentionally left slightly open to pinch or irritate the pig anytime he attempted to root. It was felt that this would allow the pigs slightly more freedom to roam, although there were still times of the year when they had to be restrained. Eventually, a town pound was erected to impound any animals that had strayed too far from home. Being able to identify one’s own pig became important – even in a town as small as Exeter where, quite frankly, everyone knew each other and usually knew one another’s livestock. Pigs were marked by notches and holes cut into their ears.
Which all brings us to 1803 when Dr Winship tried to claim a pig in Springtime that did not actually belong to him.
Windship himself is a shady character. He served as a military physician at the Battle of Bunker Hill and is mentioned in George Washington’s papers. His service was not questioned and after the war he magnanimously assisted the family of Major John Pitcairn, a British officer killed at Bunker Hill, by returning Pitcairn’s remains to England. Except, of course, he didn’t. He shipped another man’s body and Pitcairn remains buried in Boston. Winship was also a well-known bigamist. While he was living in Exeter, he was married to Elizabeth May but may have also been married to a few other women. Suffice to say, he was an untrustworthy self-advocate.
After Moses Thurston identified his own pig, Winship tried to deflect the charges with the following arguments: 1.) the suit wasn’t brought within the required 15 days; 2.) it is not within the justices’ jurisdiction because the demand is above forty shillings; 3.) the demand isn’t certain where the swine was taken; 4.) who can really prove it’s Thurston’s pig anyway?; and 5.) this whole case is “vague, uncertain, and informal.”
William Parker, the Justice of the Peace, did not suffer any of these ideas with Winship. He ordered the pig returned with heavy fines levied against Winship. He was not, it should be noted, charged with outright theft. This may have been because the pig was still very much alive at the time and was returned unharmed. Pound fees were paid by Winship. In the end, the case was settled for all but the pig, who most likely did not live to see another season happily foraging in the woods.
Barbara Rimkunas is curator of the Exeter Historical Society. Support the Exeter Historical Society by becoming a member! Join online at: www.exeterhistory.org
Image: A collection of Exeter pigs who are grateful that swine laws have been updated since the 1600s.