Oration of James Lovell, Α. Μ., Delivered at Boston, April 2, 1771.

Omnes homines naturá Libertati student, et CONDITIONEM ser vitutis oderunt.

 

CÆS.

 

-Nunc ea petit, quæ dare nullo modo possumus, nisi priùs volumes nos bello victos confiteri.

CIC.

YOUR design in the appointment of this ceremony, my friends and fellow townsmen, cannot fail to be examined in quite different lights at this season of political dissension. From the principles I profess, and in the exercise of my common right to judge with others, I conclude it was decent, wise, and honourable.

The certainty of being favoured with your kindest partiality and candour, in a poor attempt to execute the part to which you have invited me, has overcome the objection of my inability to perform it in a proper manner; and I now beg the favour of your animating countenance.

The horrid bloody scene we here commemorate, whatever were the causes which concurred to bring it on that dreadful night, must lead the pious and humane, of every order, to some suitable reflections. The pious will adore the conduct of that BEING who is unsearchable in all his ways, and without whose knowledge not a single sparrow falls, in permitting an immortal soul to be hurried by the flying ball, the messenger of death, in the twinkling of an eye, to meet the awful Judge of all its secret actions. The humane, from having often thought, with pleasing rapture, on the endearing scenes of social life, in all its amiable relations, will lament, with heartfelt pangs, their sudden dissolution, by indiscretion, rage, and vengeance.

But let us leave that shocking close of one continued course of rancour and dispute, from the first moment that the troops arrived in town; that course will now be represented by your own reflections to much more solid, useful purpose, than by any artful language. I hope, however, that heaven has yet in store such happiness for this afflicted town and province, as will in time wear out the memory of all your former troubles.

I sincerely rejoice with you in the happy event of your steady and united effort to prevent a second tragedy.

Our fathers left their native land, risked all the dangers of the sea, and came to this then savage desert, with that true undaunted courage which is excited by a confidence in God. They came that they might here enjoy themselves, and leave to their posterity the best of earthly portions, full English liberty. You showed upon the alarming cause for trial, that their brave spirit still exists in vigour, though their legacy of right is much impaired. The sympathy and active friendship of some neighbouring towns, upon that sad occasion, commands the highest gratitude of this.

We have seen and felt the ill effects of placing standing forces in the midst of populous communities; but those are only what individuals suffer. Your vote directs me to point out the fatal tendency of placing such an order in free cities-fatal indeed! Athens once was free; a citizen, a favourite of the people, by an artful story, gained a trifling guard of fifty men; ambition taught him ways to enlarge that number; he destroyed the commonwealth, and made himself the tyrant of the Athenians. Cæsar, by the length of his command in Gaul, got the affections of his army, marched to Rome, overthrew the state, and made himself perpetual dictator. By the same instruments, many less republics have been made to fall a prey to the devouring jaws of tyrants. But this is a subject which should never be disguised with figures; it chooses the plain style of dissertation.

The true strength and safety of every commonwealth or limited monarchy, is the bravery of its freeholders, its militia. By brave militias they rise to grandeur, and they come to ruin by a mercenary army. This is founded on historical facts, and the same causes will, in similar circumstances, for ever produce the same effects. Justice Blackstone, in his inimitably clear commentaries, tells us, that "it is extremely dangerous in a land of liberty, to make a distinct order of the profession of arms; that such an order is an object of jealousy; and that the laws and constitution of England are strangers to it." One article of the Bill of Rights is, that the raising or keeping a standing army within the kingdom in a time of peace, unless it be with consent of parliament, is against law. The present army, therefore, though called the peace establishment, is kept up by one act, and governed by another; both of which expire annually. This circumstance is valued as a sufficient check upon the army. A less body of troops than is now maintained, has, on a time, destroyed a king, and fought under a parliament with great success and glory; but, upon a motion to disband them, they turned their masters out of doors, and fixed others in their stead. Such wild things are not again to happen, because the parliament have power to stop payment once a year: But arma tenenti quis neget? which may be easily interpreted, "who will bind Sampson with his locks on?"¹

The bill which regulates the army, the same fine author I have mentioned, says, is, in many respects, hastily penned, and reduces the soldier to a state of slavery, in the midst of a free nation. This is impolitic; for slaves envy the freedom of others, and take a malicious pleasure in contributing to destroy it."

By this scandalous bill a justice of peace is empowered to grant, without a previous oath from the military officer, a warrant to break open any (freeman's) house, upon pretence of searching for deserters.

I must not omit to mention one more bad tendency; it is this, a standing force leads to a total neglect of militias, or tends greatly to discourage them.

You see the danger of a standing army to the cause of freedom. If the British parliament consents from year to year to be exposed, it doubtless has good reasons. But when did our assembly pass an act to hazard all the property, the liberty and lives of their constituents? What check have we upon a British army? can we disband it? can we stop its pay?

Our own assemblies in America can raise an army; and our monarch, George the 3d, by our constitution, takes immediate command. This army can consent to leave their native provinces. Will the royal chief commander send them to find barracks at Brunswick, or Lunenburg, at Hanover, or the commodious hall of Westminster? suppose the last; suppose this army was informed, nay thought the parliament in actual rebellion, or only on the eve of one, against the king, or against those who paid and clothed them; for there it pinches:—we are rebels against parliament; we adore the king. Where, in the case I have stated, would be the value of the boasted English constitution?

Who are a free people? not those who do not suffer actual oppression; but those who have a constitutional check upon the power to oppress.

We are slaves or freemen: if, as we are called, the last, where is our check upon the following powers, France, Spain, the States of Holland, or the British parliaments? now if any one of these (and it is quite immaterial which) has a right to make the two acts in question operate within this province, they have a right to give us up to an unlimited army, under the sole direction of one Saracen commander.

Thus I have led your thoughts to that upon which I formed my conclusion, that the design of this ceremony was decent, wise, and honourable. Make the bloody 5th of March the era of the resurrection of your birthrights, which have been murdered by the very strength that nursed them in their infancy. I had an eye solely to parliamentary supremacy; and I hope you will think every other view beneath your notice, in our present most alarming situation.

Chatham, Camden, and others, gods among men, and the farmer, whom you have addressed as the friend of mankind; all these have owned that England has a right to exercise every power over us, but that of taking money out of our pockets, without our consent.² Though it seems almost too bold therefore in us to say " we doubt in every single instance her legal right over this province,"³ yet we must assert it. Those I have named are mighty characters, but they wanted one advantage Providence has given us. The beam is carried off

from our eyes, by the flowing blood of our fellow citizens, and now we may be allowed to attempt to remove the mote from the eyes of our exalted patrons. That mote, we think, is nothing but our obligation to England first, and afterwards Great Briain, for constant kind protection of our lives and birthrights against foreign danger. We all acknowledge that protection.

Let us once more look into the early history of this province. We find that our English ancestors, disgusted in their native country at a Legislation, which they saw was sacrificing all their rights, left its jurisdiction,⁴ and sought, like wandering birds of passage, some happier climate. Here at length they settled down. The king of England was said to be the royal⁵ landlord of this territory; with him they entered into mutual, sacred compact, by which the price of tenure, and the rules of management, were fairly stated. It is in this compact that we find our only true legislative authority.

I might here enlarge upon the character of those first settlers, men of whom the world was little worthy; who, for a long course of years, assisted by no earthly power, defended their liberty, their religion, and their lives, against the greatest inland danger of the savage natives; but this falls not within my present purpose. They were secure by sea.

In our infancy, when not an over tempting jewel for the Bourbon crown, the very name of England saved us; afterwards her fleets and armies. We wish not to depreciate the worth of that protection. Of our gold, yea, of our most fine gold, we will freely give a part. Our fathers would have done the same. But must we fall down and cry "let not a stranger rob and kill me, O my father! let me rather die by the hand of my brother, and let him ravish all my portion!"⁶

It is said that disunited from Britain, “we should bleed at every vein." I cannot see the consequence. The states of Holland do not suffer thus. But grant it true, Seneca, would prefer the launcets of France, Spain, or any other power, to the bow string, though applied by the fair hand of Britannia.

The declarative vote of the British parliament is the death warrant of our birthrights, and wants only a Czarish king to put it into execution. Here then a door of salvation is open. Great Britain may raise her fleets and armies, but it is only our own king that can direct their fire down upon our heads. He is gracious, but not omniscient. He is ready to hear our appeals in their proper course; and knowing himself, though the most powerful prince on earth, yet, a subject under a divine constitution of law; that law he will ask and receive from the twelve judges of England. These will prove that the claim of the British parliament over us is not only illegal in itself, but a downright usurpation of his prerogative as king of America.

A brave nation is always generous. Let us appeal, therefore, at the same time, to the generosity of the people of Great Britain, before the tribunal⁷ of Europe, not to envy us the full enjoyment of the rights of brethren.

And now, my friends and fellow townsmen, having declared myself an American son of liberty of true charter principles; having shewn the critical and dangerous situation of our birthrights, and the true course for speedy redress; I shall take the freedom to recommend, with boldness, one previous step. Let us show we understand the true value of what we are claiming.

The patriotic farmer tells us, "the cause of liberty is a cause of too much dignity to be sullied by turbulence and tumult. Anger produces anger; and differences, that might be accommodated by kind and respectful behaviour, may, by imprudence, be enlarged to an incurable rage. In quarrels, risen to a certain height, the first cause of dissension is no longer remembered, the minds of the parties being wholly engaged in recollecting and resenting the mutual expressions of their dislike. When feuds have reached that fatal point, considerations of reason and equity vanish; and a blind fury governs, or rather confounds all things. A people no longer regard their interest, but a gratification of their wrath."

We know ourselves subjects of common law; to that and the worthy executors of it, let us pay a steady and conscientious regard. Past errors in this point have been written with gall, by the pen of malice. May our future conduct be such as to make even that vile imp lay her pen aside.

The right which imposes duties upon us, is in dispute; but whether they are managed by a Surveyor-General, a Board of Commissioners, Turkish Janizaries, or Russian Cossacks, let them enjoy during our time of fair trial, the common personal protection of the laws of our constitution. Let us shut our eyes, for the present, to their being executors of claims subversive of our rights.

Watchful, hawk eyed jealousy, ever guards the portal of the temple of the goddess Liberty. This is known to those who frequent her altars. Our whole conduct therefore, I am sure, will meet with the utmost candour of her votaries; but I am wishing we may be able to convert even her basest apostates.

We are slaves until we obtain such redress, through the justice of our king, as our happy constitution leads us to expect. In that condition, let us behave with the propriety and dignity of freemen; and thus exhibit to the world, a new character of a people, which no history describes.

May the all wise and beneficient ruler of the universe preserve our lives and health, and prosper all our lawful endeavours in the glorious cause of freedom.

_______________

¹ Trenchard.

² Taxation and representation are inseparable.

Chath. Camd. From what in our constitution is representation not inseparable! —multa a Crasso divinitùs dicta efferebantur, cùm sibi illum consulem esse negaret cui senator ipse non esset.

Cic.

³ I confine myself to this province, partly from ignorance of other charters; but more from a desire even to vex some abler pen to pursue the idea of check; which an unchartered freeman may do, as well as any other in America.

⁴ Hæc sunt enim fundamenta firmissima nostræ libertatis, sui quemque juris et retinendi et dimittendi esse dominum.

Cic.

⁵ I choose to bury a fruitful subject for any satyrical genius of the family of Penn.

⁶ —ita vitam corpusque servato, ita fortunas, ita rem familiarem, ut hæc posteriora libertati ducas-nec pro his libertatem sed pro libertati hæc projicias, tanquam pignora injuriæ.

⁷ I do not think the quo warranto against our first charter, was tried in a proper court.

SOURCE: William T. Clap, Publisher, Orations Delivered at the Request of the Inhabitants of the Town of Boston to Commemorate the Evening of the Fifth of March, 1770; When a Number of Citizens were Killed by a Party of British Troops, Quartered Among Them, In a Time of Peace, Second Edition, pp. 3-11

Diary of Dr. Ezra Green, Monday, December 1, 1777

Saw Land from mast Head at 10 in the morning, with fine weather.

SOURCE: Dr. Ezra Green, Diary of Ezra Green, M.D., Surgeon on Board the Continental Ship “Ranger,” Under John Paul Jones, from November 1, 1777 to September 27, 1778,  p. 18

Diary of Dr. Ezra Green, Tuesday, December 2, 1777

Ran in for the Land with a fine moderate Breeze, narrowly escap’d running on a Sand through want of a Pilot and arrived all in good spirits at Peanbeauf on the River Loire and came to anchor in the evening.

SOURCE: Dr. Ezra Green, Diary of Ezra Green, M.D., Surgeon on Board the Continental Ship “Ranger,” Under John Paul Jones, from November 1, 1777 to September 27, 1778,  p. 18

Diary of Dr. Ezra Green, Wednesday, December 3, 1777

Wrote a Letter to Capt. Shackford at L’Orient and inclos’d one to my very good friend Cooper—favour’d by Capt. Mutchemore.¹

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¹ The letter to his friend Cooper is given in the Memoir.

SOURCE: Dr. Ezra Green, Diary of Ezra Green, M.D., Surgeon on Board the Continental Ship “Ranger,” Under John Paul Jones, from November 1, 1777 to September 27, 1778,  p. 18

Diary of Dr. Ezra Green, Friday, December 5, 1777

The Prize Brig Mary arrived here safe— went to Nantez with Capt. Simpson arriv’d at 9 in the Evening this is a very considerable City distant 10 Leagues from Penbeauf am told there are 12 Parishes in Nantes in one of which are 30,000 Souls.

SOURCE: Dr. Ezra Green, Diary of Ezra Green, M.D., Surgeon on Board the Continental Ship “Ranger,” Under John Paul Jones, from November 1, 1777 to September 27, 1778,  p. 19

Diary of Dr. Ezra Green, Saturday, December 6, 1777

Went to the Tragedy but it was to me in an unknown Tongue, was not much pleased or entertained, however the Musick was good.

SOURCE: Dr. Ezra Green, Diary of Ezra Green, M.D., Surgeon on Board the Continental Ship “Ranger,” Under John Paul Jones, from November 1, 1777 to September 27, 1778,  p. 19

Diary of Dr. Ezra Green, Sunday, December 7, 1777

Returned to Peanbeauf, and on board the Ranger.

SOURCE: Dr. Ezra Green, Diary of Ezra Green, M.D., Surgeon on Board the Continental Ship “Ranger,” Under John Paul Jones, from November 1, 1777 to September 27, 1778,  p. 19

Joseph Plumb Martin: Adventures of a Revolutionary Soldier, Chapter 1 Introductory.

Have patience just to hear me out;

And I'll tell you what I've been about.

THE heroes of all Histories, Narratives, Adventures, Novels and Romances, have, or are supposed to have ancestors, or some root from which they sprang. I conclude, then, that it is not altogether inconsistent to suppose that I had parents too. I shall not undertake to trace my pedigree (like the Welsh) some thousand years beyond the creation; but just observe, that my father was the son of a "substantial New-England farmer," (as we Yankees say,) in the then Colony, but now State of Connecticut, and county of Windham. When my father arrived at puberty he found his constitution too feeble to endure manual labour, he therefore directed his views to gaining a livelihood by some other means. He, accordingly, fitted himself for, and entered as a student in Yale College, sometime between the years 1750 and '55. My mother was likewise a "farmer's daughter;" her native place was in the county of New-Haven, in the same State. She had a sister, married and settled in the vicinity of the College, who often boarded the students when sick. My father being once in that condition, and being at board at this aunt's, my mother happened to be there on a visit: my father seeing her, it seems, like a great many others in like circumstances, took a fancy to her, followed up his courtship, and very possibly obtained her consent as well as her parents—married her a year and a half before his collegial studies were ended, which, (if known at the time,) would have been cause of his expulsion from College; but it seems it never was known there, and he, of course, escaped a keelhaling.

After my father left College, he studied divinity, had "a call,” accepted it, and was settled in the county of Berkshire, in the (now) Commonwealth of Massachusetts, as a gospel minister of the Congregational order; in which county of Berkshire, I, the redoubtable hero of this Narrative, first made my appearance in this crooked, fretful world, upon the twenty-first day of November, in the year 1760. I have been told that the day on which I was born was a thanksgiving day, which day is, generally, celebrated with good cheer. One might have thought it a little ominous being born upon such a day, but I can assure the reader it was no omen of good to me, especially for the seven or eight years I was in the army—nor, indeed ever since.

My grandsire, on my mother's side, having at this time no other daughter but my mother, (my aunt, mentioned above, being dead,) she of course became the darling, for which reason, I suppose, I was his favourite grandson, and received his christian and surnames as my given name.

I lived with my parents until I was upwards of seven years old, when I went to live with this good old grandsire; for good he was, particularly to me. He was wealthy, and I had every thing that was necessary for life, and as many superfluities as was consistent with my age and station. There were none belonging to the family, as constant residents, except the old gentleman, lady and myself. It is true my grandsire kept me pretty busily employed, but he was kind to me in every respect; always gave me a playday when convenient, and was indulgent to me almost to a fault. Ah! I ought not to have left him while he lived; I fouled my own nest most sadly when I did it; but children "are full of notions."

I remember the stir in the country occasioned by the stamp act, but I was so young that I did not understand the meaning of it; I likewise remember the disturbances that followed the repeal of the stamp act, until the destruction of the tea at Boston and elsewhere; I was then thirteen or fourteen years old, and began to understand something of the works going on. I used, about this time, to inquire a deal about the French war, as it was called, which had not been long ended, my grandsire would talk with me about it while working in the fields, perhaps as much to beguile his own time as to gratify my curiosity. I thought then, nothing should induce me to get caught in the toils of an army—“ I am well, so I'll keep," was my motto then, and it would have been well for me if I had ever retained it.

Time passed smoothly on with me till the year 1774 arrived, the smell of war began to be pretty strong, but I was determined to have no hand in it, happen when it might; I felt myself to be a real coward. What—venture my carcass where bullets fly! that will never do for me. Stay at home out of harm's way, thought I, it will be as much to your health as credit to do so. But the pinch of the game had not arrived yet; I had seen nothing of war affairs, and consequently was but a poor judge in such matters.

One little circumstance that happened in the autumn of this year, will exhibit my military prowess, at this time, in a high point of view. In the afternoon, one Sabbath day, while the people were assembled at meeting, word was brought that the British (regulars, as the good people then called them) were advancing from Boston, spreading death and desolation in their route in every direction. What was the intent of spreading this rumour, I know not, unless it was to see how the people would stand affected; be it what it would, it caused me a terrible fright. I went out of the house in the dusk of the evening, when I heard the sound of a carriage on the road, in the direction of Boston; I thought they were coming as sure as a gun; I shall be dead or a captive before to-morrow morning; however, I went to bed late in the evening, dreamed of "fire and sword," I suppose; waked in the morning, found myself alive, and the house standing just where it did the evening before.

The winter of this year passed off without any very frightening alarms, and the spring of 1775 arrived. Expectation of some fatal event seemed to fill the minds of most of the considerate people throughout the country. I was ploughing in the field about half a mile from home, about the twenty-first day of April, when all of a sudden the bells fell to ringing, and three guns were repeatedly fired in succession down in the village; what the cause was we could not conjecture. I had some fearful forebodings that something more than the sound of a carriage wheel was in the wind. The regulars are coming in good earnest, thought I. My grandsire sighed, he "smelt the rat." He immediately turned out the team and repaired homeward. I sat off to see what the cause of the commotion was. I found most of the male kind of the people together; soldiers for Boston were in requisition. A dollar deposited upon the drum head was taken up by some one as soon as placed there, and the holder's name taken, and he enrolled, with orders to equip himself as quick as possible. My spirits began to revive at the sight of the money offered; the seeds of courage began to sprout; for, contrary to my knowledge, there was a scattering of them sowed, but they had not as yet germinated; I felt a strong inclination, when I found I had them, to cultivate them. O, thought I, if I were but old enough to put myself forward, I would be the possessor of one dollar, the dangers of war to the contrary notwithstanding; but I durst not put myself up for a soldier for fear of being refused, and that would have quite upset all the courage I had drawn forth.

The men that had engaged "to go to war" went as far as the next town, where they received orders to return, as there was a sufficiency of men already engaged, so that I should have had but a short campaign had I have gone.

This year there were troops raised both for Boston and New-York. Some from the back towns were billeted at my grandsire's; their company and conversation began to warm my courage to such a degree, that I resolved at all events to "go a sogering." Accordingly I used to pump my grandsire, in a roundabout manner, to know how he stood affected respecting it. For a long time he appeared to take but little notice of it. At length, one day, I pushed the matter so hard upon him, he was compelled to give me a direct answer, which was, that he should never give his consent for me to go into the army unless I had the previous consent of my parents. And now I was completely gravelled; my parents were too far off to obtain their consent before it would be too late for the present campaign. What was I to do? why, I must give up the idea, and that was hard; for I was as earnest now to call myself, and be called a soldier, as I had been a year before not to be called one. I thought over many things, and formed many plans, but they all fell through, and poor disconsolate I was forced to set down and gnaw my finger nails in silence.

I said but little more about "soldiering," until the troops raised in and near the town in which I resided, came to march off for New-York, then I felt bitterly again; I accompanied them as far as the town line, and it was hard parting with them then. Many of my young associates were with them, my heart and soul went with them, but my mortal part must stay behind. By and by they will come swaggering back, thought I, and tell me of all their exploits, all their "hairbreadth 'scapes," and poor Huff will not have a single sentence to advance. O, that was too much to be borne with by me.

The thoughts of the service still haunted me after the troops were gone, and the town clear of them; but what plan to form to get the consent of all, parents and grandparents, that I might procure thereby to myself, the (to me then) bewitching name of a soldier, I could not devise. Sometimes I thought I would enlist at all hazards, let the consequences be what they would; then again I would think how kind my grandparents were to me, and ever had been, my grandsire in particular: I could not bear to hurt their feelings so much. I did sincerely love my grandsire, my grandma'am I did not love so well, and I feared her less. At length a thought struck my mind: should they affront me grossly, I would make that a plea with my conscience to settle the controversy with. Accordingly, I wished nothing more than to have them, or either of them, give "His Honour" a high affront, that I might thereby form an excuse to engage in the service without their consent, leave or approbation.

It happened that in the early part of the autumn of this year, I was gratified in my wishes; for I thought I received provocation enough to justify me in engaging in the army during life; little thinking that I was inflicting the punishment on myself that I fancied I was laying on my grandparents for their (as I thought) wilful obstinacy. And as this affair was one, and the chief cause of my leaving those kind people and their hospitable house, and precipitating myself into an ocean of distress, I will minutely describe the affair.

My grandsire, as I have before observed, often gave me playdays, especially after the spring and fall sowing, when I went where I pleased, a gunning, or fishing, or to whatever recreation took my fancy. "This fall," said the old gentleman to me, one day,—"come, spring to it, and let us get the winter grain in as soon as possible, and you shall have a playday after the work is done." Accordingly, I did do the best I could to forward the business, and I believe I gave him satisfaction, for he repeated his promise to me often. Just before we had done sowing, I told him that all my young associates were going to New-Haven to commencement this season. "Well" said he, "you shall go too, if you chuse, and you shall have one of the horses, you shall have your choice of them, and I will give you some pocket money." Mighty well, thought I, I hope it will not prove delusive, I shall be happy indeed. Our young club often met in "caucus" to settle the mighty business of going to commencement, formed a thousand and one plans how we should enjoy ourselves-dropped them all successively, and formed as many more, until the time arrived for the consummation of our felicity. My grandsire had a piece of salt marsh about three miles from home, which he had mowed three or four days before the day arrived which was to make me completely happy, at least for a time. Two days previous he sent me to rake up the hay; I buffetted heat and mosquetoes, and got the hay all up; and as that sort of hay is not easily injured by the weather, I thought there was nothing to prevent my promised happiness.

Well, the day arrived; I got up early, did all the little jobs about the place, that my grandsire might have nothing to accuse me of. He had gone out during the morning and did not return till breakfast time. I was waiting with impatience for his coming in, that I might prepare for my excursion, when, lo, he did come, much to my sorrow; for the first words I heard, were, 'come, get up the team, I have gotten such a one,' naming a neighbour's boy, somewhat older than myself, 'to go with us and cart home the salt hay.' Had thunder and lightning fallen upon the four corners of the house, it would not have struck me with worse feelings than these words of his did. Shame, grief, spite, revenge, all took immediate possession of me. What could I do; go I must, that was certain, there was no remedy; and go I did, but with a full determination that the old gentleman should know that I had feelings of some sort or other, let him think of me as he would. I, according to his orders, prepared the team, he undertook to act teamster, and I sat off before them for the marsh, alone, that I might indulge myself in my grief, without molestation. The way to the marsh lay about a mile and a half on the highway to the college. I had hardly got into the highway, before I was overtaken by a troop of my young mates, all rigged off for commencement, swaggering like nabobs. The first compliment was, "Hallo, where are you going; we thought you was one of the foremost in the party; your grandsire never intended to let you go, and you was a fool to believe him." I did not believe them; my grandsire had never deceived me, in such circumstances before, and I was willing, even then, vexed as I was, to attribute it to forgetfulness or to any thing but wilfulness. However, I was baulked, no commencement for me; I considered myself as much injured as though it had been done ever so designedly.

I, however, went to the marsh; my grandsire, team and boy arrived soon after me; we put a load of hay upon the cart, and, as it was getting rather late in the day, the old gentleman concluded to go home with the team, and left the other youngster and me to pole the rest of the hay off the marsh to the upland, as it was dangerous going upon the lower part of it, being in many places soft and miry. He told us to go to some of the fences and cut a pair of sassafras poles, those being light, and have the remainder of the hay in readiness by his return.

And now comes the catastrophe of the play. I concluded, now was the time for me to show my spunk; we went up to the upland, where was plenty of fruit; I lay down under an apple tree and fell to eating, the other boy eat too, but still urged me to obey my orders; I was resolved to disobey, let the consequences be what they would. However, he, by his importunity, at length got me down upon the marsh, we poled one cock of hay off the marsh, when we saw the old gentleman coming, full drive, Jehu-like; down he came, when, lo and behold, we had gotten one cock of hay only, in a condition to be taken upon the cart; what was to be done to go on to the marsh was dangerous in the extreme, to stop then to pole it off would not do, the time would not allow it. O, my grandsire was in a woful passion. I stood aloof. Whose fault was it, he inquired; the blame was quickly laid to my account, and justly too, for I was the only culprit. The old gentleman came at me, hammer and tongs, with his six feet cartwhip. Ah, thought I to myself, good legs, do your duty now, if ever; I houghed the gravel, or rather the marsh, in good earnest. There were twenty people, or more, near us at work; they all suspended their labour to see the race. But I was too light-footed for the old gentleman, and the people on the marsh setting up a laugh, it rather disconcerted him; he, however, chased me about thirty or forty rods when he gave over the pursuit and returned, I ran as much further before I dared to look back; but hearing no sound of footsteps behind me, I at last ventured to look over my shoulder and saw him almost back to his team; I followed him in my turn, but not quite so nimble as I went from him. He endeavoured to spit a little of his spite upon the other youngster, but he stept close up to him, so that he could not use his whip; and then plead his own cause so well that the old gentleman said no more to him.

He then had to venture upon the marsh at all events. I took a rake and raked after the cart, but took especial care to keep out of harm's way, till the hay was all upon the cart; I was then called upon to help bind the load; I complied, but I kept on tiptoe all the time, ready to start in case I saw any symptoms of war; but all passed off—we got off the marsh safe and without any hindrance; and it was well for me, after all, that we met with no disaster.

And here ends my Introductory Chapter. If the reader thinks that some passages in it record incidents not altogether to my credit as a boy, I can tell him, that I thought at the time I did right, and, to tell the truth, I have not materially altered my opinion respecting them since. One thing I am certain of, and that is, reader, if you had been me you would have done just as I did. What reason have you then to cavil?

SOURCE: Joseph Plumb Martin, A Narrative of Some of the Adventures, Dangers and Sufferings of a Revolutionary Soldier, pp. 5-13

Journal of Sergeant Roger Lamb, April 3, 1776

ON the 3d of April, 1776, I embarked with the 9th regiment of foot, in which I was then a non-commissioned officer, at the Cove of Cork, on board the Friendship, transport, and on the 8th sailed with the fleet for Quebec.

SOURCE: Roger Lamb, An Original and Authentic Journal of Occurrences During the Late American War, from its Commencement to the Year 1783, p. 66

Journal of Sergeant Roger Lamb, April 20, 1776

Our ship sailing at the rate of five miles an hour, a soldier whose name was Brooks, leaped off the forecastle into the ocean; the vessel in a moment made her way over him, and he arose at her stern. He immediately with all his might, swam from the ship. The men who were upon the deck alarmed the captain and officers, who had just sat down to dinner; the ship was ordered to be put about, and the boat hoisted out, and manned, the unfortunate man was soon overtaken, and it was with difficulty that the sailors could force him into the boat. When he was brought back he was ordered between decks, and a centinel placed over him; the next morning he was in a high fever, and continued very bad the remainder of the voyage. The fear of punishment was the cause of this desperate action, as the day before he had stolen a shirt from one of his messmates knapsacks.

SOURCE: Roger Lamb, An Original and Authentic Journal of Occurrences During the Late American War, from its Commencement to the Year 1783, p. 66