On a warm summer night in 1754, the town of Windham, Connecticut, was thrown into chaos. A thunderous, unearthly noise echoed through the dark, seeming to come from every direction at once. It was as if the very earth was splitting open. Voices, some swore they heard names being called, the town’s militia colonels and magistrates among them, rose and fell in the din. Panic spread like wildfire. At the time, New England was deeply entangled in the French and Indian War, and fear gripped the townsfolk: this was it, the enemy had arrived.
Windham’s men leaped into action, mustering a scouting party armed and ready for battle. But when they arrived at the supposed battlefield, there was no enemy war party, no invading force. Instead, scattered across the ground, lay thousands of dead bullfrogs. The town had not been under siege, it had simply borne witness to an all-out amphibian brawl.
To this day, no one is entirely sure what caused the great bullfrog battle. The most accepted theory is that an ongoing drought had shrunk the local pond, forcing the frogs into close quarters, where they turned on each other in a desperate struggle for territory. Whatever the reason, Windham’s night of terror became a joke far beyond Connecticut’s borders. Travelers couldn’t escape the relentless teasing, with locals being met on the road by jeers and rhymes about the great frog war. One unfortunate Windham lawyer, upon arriving at Congress, discovered a dead bullfrog had been strapped to the back of his carriage, an unwelcome but deeply on-brand greeting.
In time, Windham learned to laugh at itself. The infamous pond was renamed Frog Pond, and a bullfrog was enshrined on the town seal. Even the Thread City Bridge, a landmark we’ve mentioned in previous articles, features frogs perched atop its spires, a nod to the town’s most infamous night. The local high school newspaper carries the legacy as well, proudly named The Croaking.
Windham may have been the laughingstock of the colonies for a time, but in the end, it did what all great legends do, it embraced the absurdity and made it its own. And really, how many towns can claim they once went to war with frogs?