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, XlM

RECOMMENDATIONS.

—H-^

This certifies that for several years the undersigned have been inti-
mately acquainted with the Rev. William B. Lighton, and have al-
ways found him to be a man of integrity, in whose word we could
rely with implicit confidence. For a number of years he has beea
depressed by misl'urtune, having lost the greater partof his propertj
by the absconding of his debtor; yet, his integrity has ever re*
mained inviolate.

In pursuing a course of industry, veracity, and humih'ty ha
has endeared himself to a large circle of christian brethren ami
the public generally. We, do therefore, cheerfully recommend him
'.0 an enlightened community.

Having perused the interesting Narrative of his life and suffer-
ings, and being fully satisfied with the work, and belisving it will ba
both interesting and useful, we can confidently recommend ittotha
reading public, particularly the youth of our courtry, as u work of
useful entertainment. It contains an account of many extraordinary
events, both of trials and sufferings, and is interspersed with many
moral and useful reflections, which renders it worthy of a prominent
place in every family library.

JOSEPH JACKMAN,
JOHN CHANDLER,
JOHN POOR,

Rev. OZIAS SAVAGE,
Elder GEORGE W. COGSWELL,
JONATHAN BROWNSON, Esq.
JACOB NOYES, Esq.
Col. MOSES WEBSTER.
Ju/y,— 1836

Selectmen

Dear Sir—

I have receivad a line fioni Elder James M'Kenzie of Boston,

Pastor of the Freewill Biptisi Church of that place, saying, that ha

has read your Nnrratire \vh)i mxirh intprcet and satisfaction; and

believes it worthy or exu;ii.:jivt! tirmilHtion, I heanily concur with

• RECOMMENDATIONS

him in his favoralilc opinion, and can conlially recommenrj It to th«
attention of every pnnm anii young person, as a work calculated
to invite the atiemion, and hciKMit tlx; h(nirtt) ot its readers.

Youra in Oosnel bunds,

NA'IHANIEL THURSTON.
Pastor of the Freewill Baptist Church, Lowell, Mass.
LoiecU Jipril—\8dQ,

We the undersigned, Miniaters of the Methodist Episcopal Church,
andmennbers of the New-Hampshire Conference, do hereby certify :
That the Rev. William B. Lighton is a membor of our chmch in
Landaif N. H. in good 8tandins;,and is a respectable Local Preacher,
—that from personal acquaintance with him, we are prepared to
commend him to the Publick as a man possessing a g(H)d, sound,
moraI,and christian character j and in whose veracity the fullest con*
fidcnce may be placed.

We have read his interesting Narrative of his lifn and sufferings,
and consider it entitled to credit. It possesses a sufhcient number,
and variety of remarkable occurenres to make it interesting, and
appropriate moral reflections to render it useful. Believing it will b«
read with interest by all, and that it will be profitable, especially
to yottig persons, we cheerfully recommend it us a work deserving
of Public patronage.

Rev. J. B. H. NORRIS,
R?v. SALMON GLKASON,
Rev. WILLIAM PECK,
Rev. ELEAZEll WELLS,
Rev. HOLM AN DREW,
Hev, JAMES DOW,
Rev. MATTHEW NEWHALL,
Rev. CHARLES COWING,
Rev. SAMUEL HOYT.

July 1836. )

• » -.

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church In
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>repared to
(xl, sound,
ullest con*

sufferings.
It number,
sting, and
g it wi!! ba
especially
deserving

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NARRATIVE

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NARRATIVE

O F THE

OF A

YOUNG BRITISH CAPTIVE ;

(Minister of the Gospel.)

WHO WAS A SOLDIER, BOUND FOR LIFE IN THK BRITISH ARMT'

AND IN WHICH IS CONTAINED AN ACCOUNT OF ITS CHARACTER,

AND THE BARBAROUS METHOD PRACTISED IN PUNISHING

THEIR SOLDIERS; WITH AN INTERESTING ACCOUNT OF

HIS ESCAPE FROM HIS REGIMENT, HIS CAPTURE,

IMPRISONMENT, TRIAL, AND CONDEMNATION TO

DEATH; HIS SUBSEQUENT SUFFERINGS, AND

flNAL ESCAPE FROM CAPTlVITy, AND FROM

THE BRITISH DOMIN IONS.

IVRITTEN BT HIMSBI^F.

«* <ln\a talia fando temperet a lacrymas ? "^Virgil— i. e.
** Who can rerrain troni tears at the relation of such things?**
*' Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by ? Behold and see, if
there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow, which is done unto me.*

Jeremiah,

RSrifEO EOITTOK — EMBELLISHED WITH BNGRAVlNat.

PUBLISHED BY THE AUTHOR.

ALLISON AND FOSTER, PRINTERS.

1836.

Entered according to act of Coiigresa, in the year 1826,

By WlLLlAUB. LiQHTON,

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of New-Hampshire.

STEREOTYPED BY ALLISON AND FOSTEK.

*;)

PREFACE.

'■'^>V'

Many of the virtuous and the good whose
lives have been distinguished for usefulnesss
have contributed to the literature of the world
by publishing their biographies ; thereby pro-
moting the cause of truth, morality, and reli-
gion, and perpetuating their memories among
the living. Though the writer may shine with
far inferior lustre in the scale of intellectual and
moral greatness to many who have written ;
yet, he would meekly present to the Public a
narrative of his young and eventful career ; a
career, which has been marked with some of
the most remarkable occurrences, and which
are not less interesting from having been suf-
fered at so early an age. To the merits of
these assertions the impartial reader is left to
judge.

The writer trusts that he possesses nothing of
assumptive arrogance, nor the work any thing
of fictitious novelty. It is a plain unvarnished
statement of real facts, as they have occurred,
and of sufferings as they have been endured.
The reader then must pardon its errors ; and
rather then pierce it with a dagger of criticism,
he will drop his mace, and cover all its faults
with a mantle of mercy.

The object of writing it will be obtained if
it shall exhibit the goodness of God — correct
the evil passions of the heart — enforce paren-

!fc\>' >

\ . '

4 PREFACE.

tal obedience — promote generous sentiments —
elevate the standard of morality, and 'purify the
the taste of the youth, to whom it is most sin-
cerely dedicated.

It was not originally the design of the author
to publish his narrative at so early a period of
his life ; but to have withheld it from the world
until (if he lived) he was further advanced in
years, or have lefl it in manuscript to be pub-
lished afler his decease. But the ardent solic-
itude felt by his bereaved and afflicted Parents,
who has for a number of years suffered severe
mental anxiety and grief, from the authors sud-
den separation from them in the bud of early
youth, and his being conveyed away to a for-
eign land,ignorant of the dangers aud sufferings
to which he was exposed, probably never to
meet them again on the shores of time ; and
the earnest importunate desire expressed in
their letters to have it immediately put to the
press, when they learned its general events by
a correspondence ; is a request too powerful
in its claims not to be acceded too with senti-
ments of childlike affection and gratitude.
Added to this is the conviction that the events
embodied in the work, are of sufficient interest
to justify its publication .

The author feels that all his sufferings have
arisen from disobedience to his Parents, and a
reckless spirit of adventure : — he would there-
fore write this as a warning to the rising gen-
eration, hoping it may prove a check to the viru-
lent passions of the young and thoughtles and,

^■1

PREFACE.

do good ; and that it may on these accounts
be sanctioned by every christian and philan-
thropist.

This being the motive by which the follow-
ing pages have been compiled, he would pre-
sent them to the candid Public, in unison with
the sentiments and wishes of friends, and kin-
derd, who are far separated from him by the
mighty deep, with a desire that it may be ren-
dered a blessing, both to them, and to every
American youth.

That the blessing of God may rest upon the
work, is the sincere prayer of

THE AUTHOR.

tude.
rents
jrest

lave
id a
lere-
jen-
\ir\i'
md.

■•)

' '(

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

Containing^ an account of his nativity, parentage, early life, and
trials, to the 15th year of his age, when he enlisted as a lol*
dier in his Majesty*3 service.

CHAPTER II.

From the time he enlisted, to his being embodied with his regi-
ment in Montreal, Lower Canada.

^ CHAPTER III.

An account of his trials and suiTerings, from the time he joined
his regiment to his reprieve from death ; containing some af*
fecting occurrences.

CHAPTER IV.

From the time he was reprieved, to his final escape from im-
prisonment — in which is manifest the providence and graco
of God.

CHAPTER V.

An account of his life and trials, from his escape from imprison*
ment to his arrival in the United States.

CHAPTER VI.

An account of the succeeding years of his life, — the dispensations
of Providence and grace,— -continued down to the present
time.

LIFE

- i

WILLIAM B. LIGHTON.

life, and
as a sol*

his regi-

e joined
some af«

rom im-
id graco

nprison*

DSatlOBS

present

--t —

CHAPTER I.

Containing an account of his nativity, parantage, early life,
and trials, to the 15tb year of his age, when he enlisted as
a soldier in tlis Majesty's service.

I was born at Frampton, near Boston, in the
County of Lincolnshire, England, on the sev-
enth day of September, 1805. My father pos-
sessed a small, but fertile farm, from whence by
honest industry, he obtained a comfortable sup-
port for himself and family, consisting of a wife
and five children, three sons and two daugh-
ters. He possessed a sound judgment, a pen-
etrating genius and an active vigorous mind,
with a character of untarnished worth. His
dealings were always marked with the strictest
principles of justice, which rendered him belov-
ed and a useful member of society. Thus was
my dear father respected, and through Provi-
dence, blest with a cheerful competence that re-
moved him and his family from the dangerous
extremes of poverty and wealth, either of which
is oflen productive of much painful anxiety.
My dear mother died while I was quite

LIFE OF w n .,-.

vv. B, LIGHTON.

J'^ung; of course I oa„

character . However ,h''^ *•"! ''"'« «»»out her

J "nbiHed is still bri'hi I /P?'"'' "'''^collection

pamfui afflictiorwhich thf "^ "* '°"g ani
«>«'tude,shetook anlff ^^ "'"''^ ^^i"" christian
husband and ch^dron .J"?"^'^ '"'^rewell oj-her
«" ">(o the hami of ' "'' ''"f '='""'nittinV,htl
P««ce and in full ho^'e^^oraXi ''°'' ^"^ ^"'^^

A few days ubt""" "'■""• '""'•^■"
*- <>f-r/t;?twrs''£7 "Cher's demise,
followed her to the real.n« «• ^""'^'ears of age)

•* here is snmo*K- ^ "^'"e of the T r^^A »

LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON.

i)out her
Jllection
Sections
^ mater-
the best
rthy of
►ng and
christian
11 of her
ng them
) died in
ortalit/.

demise,
of age)
liis sud-
ound in
mourn-
ded to
most
\d sub-
d hath
ord."
amily
assi-
f the
t be
lost
►ugh
ren,
eart.
See

him fixing his vacant gaze upon the place she
used to occupy ; — associations are connected
with a glance at that empty place which rend
his heart, and start the tears into his mournful
eyes. Does he retire to his solitary chamber at
night ? It is but to spend the sleepless hours
in remembrances of the past It was so with my
father, his bosom was severely wounded, and he
lived but to mourn the loss he had experienced.
It is felt by the children. They recoil from the
cold attention of strangers, which, however
kind it may be, never equals the warmth of a
mother's love. They miss too those instruc-
tions, which they were wont to receive from her
beloved and willing lips, by which they were so
much improved and amused. Here it was that
I suffered by not having a mother, who, in the
course of my early years, would have repressed
the effects of depraved nature, by her sage
counsels and wise government.

After the lapse of several months, my father
married a second time to an amiable woman of
preposessing appearance, and a disposition so
agreeable as to win the affection and secure the
esteem of all her acquaintances. From her I
received that care, which, in some measure,
atoned for my former loss. ^ She was kind and
indulgent, though at the same time strict in re-
quiring obedience, — but the reader, who has
lost a fond mother, will understand me, when I
say she was not my mother.

My parents were strict observers of the
^ rules of the established church. For the truths

■'/■■ ■'

, I

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

of the bible they possessed a deep reverence
and sincere regard, and they strove to impress
those truths upon the minds of their offspring at
the earliest periods of intellectual exfoliation.

The effect of this pious instruction produced
in my mind a deep veneration for the character
of God, and fear of offending him by a breach
of his holy law. The following anecdote,
though simple, may serve to show what moral
impression was made upon my mind.

It is a matter of most implicit faith among
the juvenile class, in some parts of England,
that the robin red-breast, from some undefined
reason or other, is the peculiar favorite of Dei-
ty, that its red-breast is the trait by which it is
known as such, and that to destroy it inevita-
bly produces the displeasure of Jehovah. Un-
fortunately I destroyed a brood of these chirp-
ing innocents, which I had no sooner done,
than I became the subject of a train of reflec-
tion the most painful and disagreeable. Con-
viction rolled upon my mind, I felt guilty, un-
happy, and was full of fear for the deed I had
done ; in vain did I try to forget the act ; I
could not ; my burden grew heavier, it became
insupportable, I wept aloud and cried to God
for mercy and pardon, promising if he would
forgive me, I never would be guilty of the like
offence. The effect of my importunate cry to
God gave me the most sensible relief that I ev-
er experienced in my life. My guilt was rolled
off my shoulders and my wonted peace return-
ed to my bosom, insomuch that I resumed my

%
"%

LIFE OF W. B. IJGIITON.

Bverence
) impress
fspring at
Uation.
produced
character
a breach
inecdote,
at moral

h among
England,
indefined
e of Dei-
hich it is
inevita-
ah. Un-
5se chirp-
er done,
)f reflec-
Con-
ilty, un-
I had
act ; I
became
to God
e would
the like
le cry to
at I ev-
,s rolled
return-
ed my

innocent amusements with all the transports of
youthful delight. Would to God that my mor-
al sensitiveness had always remained equally
sharp !

In order that I might be more efficiently in-
structed in those scriptures which make " wise
unto salvation," I was, at an early age, sent to
a Sabbath School, conducted by ladies and
gentlemen, whose souls, filled with' a Saviour's
love, yearned with compassion for the youth of
the village, and from whose philanthropic labors,
I imbibed a respect for the name and charac-
ter of the Supreme being, which, in after life,
served to restrain me from the depths of vice.
O, the blessed and happy effects of Sabbath
Schools ! Surely they are seats of mercy.
Would to God they were more perseveringly
attended too. Ye Christians, awake to this
important duty, and labor steadily with all your
moral powers at this mighty engine of piety and
reformation ! And may the Omnipotent Jeho-
vah bless you and the institution with success !

My father, being a man of information, and
aware of the value of education, placed me un-
der the tuition of Mr. Joshua Dent,a gentleman
fitted both by learning, and judgment to super-
intend the instruction of youth. From this in-
divid^ial I received that assistance which ena-
bled me to acquire a knowledge of the common
branches of learning, and had it not been for
the indolence to which I was subject, I should
have been instructed in the higher branches of
literature ; but, to my subsequent sorrows I
2

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

thwarted the design of my parents, and master,
by mj^ indolence and love of amusement. This
last mentioned evil continually involved me in
trouble and perplexity, wasted my precious
time, and in some cases, rendered me amenable
to the laws of the land, as also it made me the
subject of my father's displeasure. The amuse-
ments to which I allude were the robbing of
gardens, and orchards,trapping game, and hunt-
ing bird's nests, Stc. To the latter of which I
became so grosely addicted that I have fre-
quently exposed myself to the most emminent
danger of breaking my limbs and losing my
life. Such was the effect of my climbing into
thcirn-hedges in pursuit of my object, that I
have suffered severely from the lacerating
thorn, both upon my flesh and clothes,the latter
of which would sometimes be tattered in rags,
which sight provoked my parents to anger, es-
pecially my mother, as it kept her generally
busy with the needle and thread, in mending
for me." These propensities I indulged, as of-
ten, and as far as circumstances would permit,
in defiance of the strictest injunctions to the
contrary.

I mention these things to show the young
reader what I consider to be the first causes of
my numerous sufferings in afler life, viz: diso-
bedience to my parents. Had I obeyed them
and refrained from my sinful persuits, I should
have escaped that censure and severe punish-
ment, I oflen received as the consequence of
my offences. I shall accordingly introduce the

LIFE OF W B. LIGHTON.

ad master,
ent. This
ved me in
y precious
B amenable
ide me the
Phe amuse-
robbing of
I, and hunt-
of which I
[ have fre-
t emminent
losing my
mbing into
ect, that I

lacerating
Sjthe latter
ed in rags,

anger, es-

generally
mending
ged, as oP

Id permit,
ons to the

the young
causes of
viz: diso-
eyed them
, I should
re punish-
quence of
reduce tho

y^'i

reader to one or two circumstances, which may
serve to illustrate this remark.

My father was an experienced horticulturist,
and possessed a peculiar taste which led him to
cultivate his garden almost to paradisical per-
fection ; from which circumstances he forbad
his children entering it on pain of his displeas-
ure; a prohibitation so reasonable,ought certain-
ly to have been obeyed. I did however, pay
frequent visits to this delightful spot, and regale
myself with the rich and luxuriant fruit it con-
tained. On one occasion having entered this
forbidden ground in company with my oldest
brother, after we had eaten our fill, and had
commenced lading ourselves with spoil, unsus-
picious of dang/^r? we were alarmed by the
sound of a pprc^hing footsteps. Our feelings
were greatly excited at the idea of discoverey,
laden as ^»e were with forbidden fruit. Accor-
dingly we paused to ascertain who the intruders
might be, when we heard a voice too well known
to admit of doubt concerning our unwelcome
visitors. It was my mother and grandmother
who having been informed of our proceedings
by a neighboring family, were come to drive us
plunderers away.

We had but a moment for consultation,and as
the only alternative was to bury our fruit in
the ground, and hide ourselves in the bushes,
we did so, thus hoping to escape detection.
Scarcely were we secreted, when they ap-
proached, and with a voice that filled us with
alarm, my mother exclaimed, " then you are

LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON.

i )

>i]

here, you villains, are you ? Come out immedi-
ately." We however remained,perfectly silent,
when they commenced a regular search, and
soon dislodged us from our retreat, and drove
us from the garden.

My father too, detected me in obtaining game
by unlawful means, since by the laws of Eng-
land, it is a crime to kill any kind of game what-
ever, unless duly qualified according to law,
which qualificatiou supposes ix large share of
property, and the payment of certain dues ;
and should any whom Providence has placed in
a lower sphere of life, dare to lay their unhallow-
ed hands upon any of thos^ proscribed creatures,
even though he should be urged to do it by the
imperious demands of a staiving family, the
strong arm of an impious law \fould drag him
from the bosom of a dependent wife ^d children,
and consign him to a transportation Sbr several
years. These are laws which in my humble
opinion ought to be repealed, as they savor too
much of despotism and tyrany. Against these
laws, I frequently rebelled, and carried on my
schemes with impunity, without regard to law
or its consequences.

My father being a strict observer of these
laws, did all that lay in his power to prevent his
children infringing them. He would keep
no dog, guD, or instrument upon his premises
that would in any way afford the means of
poaching, and strictly forbid any such course
on pain of his displeasure, with severe pun-
ishment.

out immedi-
ectly silent,
search, and
» and drove

ining game
'9 of Eng-
ame what-
ig to law,
e share of
ain dues ;
s placed in
' unhallow'
creatures,

it by the
imily, the
drag him

children,
)r several
y humble

savor too
inst these

d on my
to law

LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON.

of these
Bvent his
Id keep
)remise8
Bans of
1 course
re puo-

As my father descovered my propensity to
evil, he adopted a course of discipline so strict
that my life actually became a burthen ; home
became unpleasent to me, and I ardently sighed
for an escape from such severe discipline, as it
had a very sad effect upon my mind. The pos-
itive, and oft repeated prohibitions only serv-
ed to increase and inflame my desires, and
to create feelings which moderate gratification
would have smothered in the birth. And I
firmly believe had my dear parents pursued a
milder and more lenient course of government
towards me, my prominent defects of charac-
ter might have been subdued, and I saved from
those subsequent evils which befel me in after
life. Hence it appears, that punishments too
severe, and restrictions too minute only defeat
their own ends. We are naturally prone to de-
sire most, that which is most strictly forbidden,
and the prohibition sometimes serves to enkindle
desires which other wise never would have
existed. Not that we suppose the law to
create the principle which thus leads to dis-
obedience, no ; that principle has its birth co-
eval with the existence of the man, and is elic-
ited by the enforcement of the command.
This we believe is what the Apostle meant
when he said, "for without the law sin was
dead," and the Heathen where he says :

** Vice is provoked by every strong restraint ;
Sick men love most to drink, who know they may'nt.*'

Were a proper line of conduct pursued in the

government and education of children, how

2»

V ifl

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

few profligate sons and daughterSj and how few
broken hearted parents, should we find ! 'J'ho
injudicious management of many parents with
their children, the neglect of early religioua
education, connected with a wholesome and of-
fectionate restraint, is the ruin of millions.
Many parents are too authoritative and austere
in their mode of government which renders
obedience irksome and slavish. Others again,
go into as great an extreme on the other hand,
for they exercise but very little or no govern-
ment at all. Their children some of them be-
fore they are of age would seem to usurp the
reins of government into their own hands, and
they heed as much the wind that blows as they
do the counsel and admonition of their parents.

And why is this ? It is because their pa-
rents are not in the exercise of a judicious and
proper discipline, — and for fear of doing hurt to
their children, or injuring their own feelings,
they let them run headlong in their own way.
No wonder then if they have profligate chil-
dren ! — ^And indeed it will be a wonder, if
their children do not sink to hell through their
neglect !

'^ It is not parental fondness, nor parental
authority, taken separately, that can produce
this beneficial effect. A father may be as fond
of his offspring as he possibly can be, and his
children be disobedient and rebellious : he
may be as authoritative as the grand Turk, and
his children despise and plot rebellion against
him. But let parental authority be tempered

nv.

LIFE OF W. B. LIGUTON.

md how few
find ! 'i^he
irents with
\y relig^ioua
mie and af"
f millions,
md austere
ch renders
hers again,
)ther hand,
lo govern-
!* them be-
> usurp the
lands, and
ws as they
iir parents,
I their pa-
|icious and
ng hurt to
feelings,
)wn way.
;ate chil-
onder, if
ugh their

parental

produce
e as fond

and his
)us : he
urk, and

against
Bmpered

with fathcrlu affection ; and let the reins of dij^-
cipline be steadily held by this powerful but
affectionate hand ; and there shall tiie pleasure
of God prosper ; there will he give his blessing,
even life for evermore. Many fine families
have been spoiled^ and many ruined^ by the
separate exercise of those two principles.

Parental affectioriy when aloney infallibly de-
generates into foolish fondness ; and parental
authority frequently dfegenerates into brutal
tyranny, when standing by itself The first
sort of parents will be loved, without being res-
pected ; the second sort will be dreaded, with-
out either respect or esteem. In the first case
obedience is not exacted, and is therefore leA
to be unnecessary, as oflfences of great magni-
tude pass without punishment or reprehension :
in the second case, rigid exaction renders obe-
dience almost impossible ; and the smallest de-
linquency is often punished with the extreme
of torture ; which, hardening the mind, renders
duty a matter of perfect indifference.

Parents, lay these things to heart ! Teach
your children to fear God — use wholesome dis-
cipline—be determined — begin in time — mingle
severity and mercy together in all your conduct—
and earnestly pray to God to second your god-
ly discipline with the power and grace of his
spirit ! "

I had now arrived at that period of my life
when it was deemed expedient I should make
choice of some pursuit, by which to maintain
myself in afler life ; but so volatile and change-

'i I p

,>ti^'

LIFE OF W. J5. LlCaiTON.

ful was my disposition, that I found it difficult
to decide. Added to this, my mind was filled
with the most romantic ideas of distant places,
I was charmed with the history of travellers
and longed to rove at large through the wide
earth uncontrolled and free. This disposition
was not a little increased from the following
circumstance.

Captain Hewitt, a relative of my father, came
to spend a few days with us previous to the
sailing of his ship on a long voyage. To him
was made known by my father the disposition
I possessed. They thought it best to send me
to sea. Accordingly it was agreed that Cap-
tain Hewitt should take me, provided I would
consent. I cheerfully assented, when an agree-
ment was accordingly entered into and I was
ordered to hold myself in readiness for sea
at the summons of my friend.

I was now much excited and busy in pre-
paring for my departure. I thought but little
of leaving home, and parting with friends ; my
mind was filled with ideas of the pleasures of
a sailor's life, and my engagedness had like to
have cost my father his house ; for one night,
while preparing papers and books for an inten-
ded journal, I accidentally set fire to the win-
dow hangings of my bed-chamber, and thus al-
most fired the house.

Having made the necessary preparations for
my departure, I began to look anxiously for
the summons of the Captain, but having wait-
ed several weeks in vain, was compelled to

'ilLi

it diflicult

was filled
mt places,

travellers
1 the wide
iisposition

following

'her, came
us to the
I'o him
lisposition
' send me
that Cap-
I would
an agree-
nd I was
' for sea

in pre-
Jut little
ids ; my
sures of
d like to
e night,

inten-
he win-
thus al-
iens for
sly for
wait-
lied to

LIFE OF W. B. LIGUTON.

give the matter up as a disappointment, and so
it proved, for we never, to my knowledge, heard
a word of his fate, but were left to conjecture
the reason why he did not fulfil his promise.

Some time after this circumstance the ques-
tion of emigration was seriously agitated^
among my friends, and neighbors, America
with all its advantages formed the to^^ic of con-
versation, among all classes of society. The
public voice spake loud in its favor, and the
various periodicals of the day were filled with
flaming eulogies of this far-famed continent.
Among those who were captivated with these
pleasing accounts my father stood foremost,
and felt a most anxious desire to visit a spot so
facinating. But the ill health of my mother,
formed an almost insuperable barrier to his de-
sign and led him to give it up, at least for a
season.

But though thus prevented from prosecuting
his plan immediately, his desire was by no
means allayed, nor his opinion altered ; indeed,
the pleasing descriptions constantly received
by the English, tended to keep the spirit of
emigration in a state of active existence, and
to increase those desires already formed in the
breasts of thousands. The unbounded field it
afforded for the hard hand of industry ; the
rich harvest it ofTered to the speculator ; and
above all, the rising importance of its govern-
ment, operated with the influence of a magnet.
Added to this, the deplorable state of things at
home ; the glaring abuses of an impious gov-

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

■ i :

I i

eminent ; the depression and wretchedness of
the lower classes, and the murderous weight of
TAXATION rendered the people dissatisfied,
and taught them to believe that emigration
would be conducive to their benefit to leave the
home of their fathers, and, like the pilgrims,
seek a refuge (not from religious persecutions)
but from political oppression, and domestic
poverty, in a land of freedom and plenty.

Such feelings and views operated as a pow-
erful stimulous upon my mind, and created a
strong desire in me to visit a place of which I
had heard so much, especially as the members
of my own family were continually discussing
the merits and demerits of the question.

This desire was much increased by the con-
versation of a gentleman, whom my father em-
ployed to give me a little private instruction
for the purpose of putting the finishing stroke
to my education. My father usually attended
at these hours ; (which was in the evenings of
the winter season) and during the leisure mo-
ments of my tutor, would converse freely upon
his favorite topic. My instructor being well
acquainted with the history of the colonies,
and other circumstances of recent date, took
pleasure in answering every enquiry upon the
subject.

Frequently he would read to my father some
interesting accounts respecting the country,
which was so congenial with my feelings, that I
listened with strict attention, and treasured up
all he read, so that when the period arrived^

roN.

LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON.

chedness of
ous weight of
3 dissatisfied,
it emigration
it to leave the
he pilgrims^
persecutions)
fid domestic
plenty,
d as a pow-
d created a
5 of which I
he members
' discussing
3stion.
by the con-
r father em-
instruction
ing stroke
ly attended
ivenings of
eisure mo-
reely upon
)eing well
- colonies,
date, took
upon the

Lther some
country,
»gs, that I
asured up
arrived,

which put an end to my opportunity for instruc-
tions, it was evident 1 had improved almost as
much in my knowledge of American manners
and customs^ as in any department of science.
After leaving my insti uctor,and being in conse-
quence, deprived of that source of information,
I procured a work entitled the " Emigrant's
Guide,'' which I read at every opportunity,
which offered itself, wherein I could avoid no-
tice and detection. The only place, wherein
I felt safe, in reading my book about America^
was at church ; (to which place I used to carry
it hid under my clothes) where, seating myself
in some distant part, read most assidously, ac-
counts which added fuel to the flame already
existing in my bosom.

As offensive as this course may appear to my
reader, I was compelled to adopt it, from a
vehement de»ire to learn all I could about
the country, and to keep my book from the
knowledge of my father, who would have de-
prived me of it, had he known I had it.

About this tiirie, a neighboring gentleman,
by the name of Westmoreland, came to the reso-
lution of trying his fortune by emigration,
My father was intending to accompany him,
but my mother positively refusig, on account
of her health, he declined. This however did
not retard Mr. W., who proceeded on his jour-
ney early m the spring, and after a short and
pleasant passage landed in Philadelphia. The
sudden change he experienced from the moder-
ate heat of England to the scorching sun of

WPE OP W. B. LIGHTOIV.

co'„SrotV/''„^»/«all effect upon his
home. In short, the HiffJ ^'^^ ''>™seJf at
«« to lead him toTreftfT'^f^^' ^ g^^'^t
he had Jeft, to the coSrv of hf 1,'^ •''« ""me
«o beget a resolution to L""'°P"°"' «"<«
possible. His commun ° .•^'"™ «« ^oon as
evinced this resolutToToTht""! /" *''? ^'^nd^
mation was so unexnectpV* ^^"^J which infor-
would scarcely credU the *!'"?' ^^}^'' "««' he
'mpatiently to hear whit J«ffi ^"^ he waited
hw visit. As it happened h.L'"' "'^ •"««»'' of
for one day being ^KdJi? "'"'"»'' 'ong,
field, through which f^l''rr«''«"g in a
from Boston to other il.f- ^T'^^^' 'ead'ng
country and withTn a sho T^ """' *"■ "»«
place, I espied an inH.!;-? .*''*'""'=« of that
i;ards us, resembK„g°ttt «f;P'"°''«'''»g *o-
the gentleman i„ qufsfL^ "r*"'' appearance,
father that Mr. W TJ^^'J '"^'na/ked to my
as .f scarcely able toTredThH,^- ^^ '°°''«d
he approached, acknowi»j J ? *®"*®«'. hut as
'vaited impatiemlv rrT- ^*"^ " '^"^ him. w!
near the s^t tK^^^'va, .hen comi!|
^as close bv the nafKA u ? ® ^abourinff, fas i1
i'«/e« yo„ «Vta.t^ho"ted «„A ^Xn,

hands and congratuIa^W u ^^^^ ^hakinff
ceeded to give u, fl ^ ^*°h other, he nro?

and presenf^d us thh'^T"''^, '°''~i::
among which, I well reLrK''^'"*' •'•"•'osities,'

)N.

^ upon his

himself at
as so great
^ the home
option, and
is^ soon as
his friends
^hich infor-
mer, that he

he waited
B result of
wait long,
'ting in a
h, leading
ts of the
5 of that
ching to-
>earance,
ed to my
I looked

> but as
ni. We

coming
S> (as it
^ghtony
[shaking
le pro-
bation,
osilies,
•ortoise,
;o you
ley are
dish

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

with the Jlmericans / " He strongly urged my
father to give up all intention of emigrating,
urging many discouragements, among which,
one was, that the people were grievously tor-
mented with musquetoes and flies, which he
said had so tormented him that during many
nights he could not sleep.

This description did not at all correspond
with my father's views, and he supposing the
gentleman more at fault than the country, la-
conically observed, after they had parted,
" that he thought his back was too strait, " sig-
nifying he did not love work, which was prob-
ably the case. However, these circumstances
only made me the more anxious to visit the
country and satisfy myself with respect to the
validity of his statements, as I had learned by
what I had read it was quite the reverse of
what he represented.

Id consequence of this, together with many
other youthful excitements, I had now become
a source of much painful uneasiness to my pa-
rents. My disposition became unsettled, and I
felt anxious to enter upon new scenes. The
mighty conflict between passion and reason now
commenced its predominant influence upon my
mind, and such was its effect, that nothing but
the power and grace of God could have sub-
dued it. I stood exposed to the fascinating
power of principle, exciting to disobedience,
&c., a principle so powerful that all the effortei
of parental discipline failed to subdue it, and
which eventually led me into many difiioulties
and dangers.
3

i- '

LIFE OF w. B. LIGHTON.

you?h%^:fLSS r"^*^-^ "^''^-n early
?ne of the most da„ ' " ;?„"T' accounts, i^
«s then that the oas^innl " ''"""^n life, u

ungovernable;an2ThaUhr T'' ^'""'e"' and
oupfy for preCnei^e [t iC'f^'" ""^^ f""-
voice of pleasure, w°th it! 1 *''^." ""«' the
«ost likel/to capti'v^e ani , """.'"g «»'«. *«
"I'nd. A^d it i8Tefthluhi"^^ '''^ y°"'hful
of the man is most genera fv I "'"/'^''^^^^^^
future usefulness in l!fe deteL^ "l^'''.^"'^ his
•ne pause, and speak a liHtT.?^'^- "ere let
«<■• Let me adWse you /' L ""t.^^^^S ^ead-
proceed, with regard tovotr rr""°? ''""^ ^o"
l^ile you are in the dl^p^' '"^ ""'' <">nd«ct,
B« careful that thou foKot 't.f''"' "^ y'"'''^-
of thy own heart, that tZ. ?« Pi-opensities
the dupe of vain and unmanlv ^^^-^ "^^«^ ''«

wmch Solomon, the wise min ^ ^^"^e,

important reason assigned i« 'f? ' """ ^^e
the m«e, of life." Prov 4 2^ •^k""' "/ ^ «»•«
neglect, or overlook h«' ! ^^^atever you

heart. For it is 2' Jeat Tent '"/^?P /""^
andif oncebadonpri?/ ®®' of pmci pies

"fee « cutting ora;ii7r'.,f'^''"^hed, ft fs'
out the right eye," tSoo?l"f «»d "plu'cking
fore, be watchful Nlrrow^v^K ""*• ^^ere?
chnafions and aversion, V^ "^^""""^ ali its in-

afiections, together w^rtre'Ulr.''*'"^ »""
occasions which excite thpm T"' °''J®efs and

— heart i, so witfe^l^r^Tou^ra^d'

ween early
accounts, is
an life. It
irulent and
e most furi-
n that the
ing note, is
le youthful
e character
id, and his
Here let
oung read-
US how you
id conduct,
1 of youth,
•ropensities
never be
ns. Take
of advice,
s us, viz.
" for the
it of it are
[tever you
eep your
rinciples,
ed, it is
plucking
There-
all its in-
ions and
pects and
[member,
life and

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTQN.

•mt

conduct be. As is the fountain, so are the
streams ; as is the root, so is the fruit. May
God help the precious reader to be v^rise !

My parents feeling deeply solicitious for my
welfare, and perceiving it would be impossible
to effect my reformation by keeping me at home
with them, resolved to put me out to some place
that I might gain some instruction from the
hand of experience. Accordingly a suitable
place was procured for me at a respectable far-
mer's about twelve miles distant. I staid there
but a short time, for the reason my master was
not in need of me as a servant, and no agree-
ment existing between my master and father, I
left, and returned home to the parental roof.
My parents not knowing the cause of my leav-
ing,and unwilling to credit my report, were very
much displeased at my return, insomuch, my
life became a burden and home disgusting.

In the spring of 1819, I was again put out to
service at some distance from home. The fam-
ily were remarkably strict in their attention to
the externals of religion, but like the Pharisees,
they were strangers to its vital power and op-
erations upon the heart. Among other things,
they insisted upon a punctual attendance at
the house of God on the part of their depen-
dents, a request I willingly complied with. Al-
though thus careful to appear pious, they were
tb*^ victims of passion . Hence, my master up-
<jn the slightest offence would be extremely
angry and censure with unsparing violence ;
in consequence of which, I became disconten-

LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON.

I m ;

;!!■ i

l! ■' t|

I i

ted and dissatisfied, and yet, I durst not com
plain. My complaints were sliut up within my
own bosom. I became dejected and gloomy,
forlorn and miserable. I thought of home, yet
I knew if I returned thither, my case would
not be improved. My parents, instead of sym-
pathising with me, would be angry and treat
me with coldness. How oflen did I sigh for a
mother^s tender and affectionate care, but alas !
my mother was in her grave ! As our acquain-
tance increased, my master became more odi-
ous to me, and his conduct more tyrannical.
For the most insignificant trifles, he swore and
threatened, as if an evil spirit possessed him,
until the situation of a galley-slave appeared
preferable to mine. For a while, I strove to
be obedient to endure his insults, and remain
until my term of service (one year) should ex-
pire. But passion and discontent gained the
ascendency,and I at length gave way to a care-
less and neglectful manner in order to induce
him to dismiss me. My measure had its desired
effect. One morning as I went out to take
care of his sheep, ( being shepherd boy, ) which
was the first duty of the day, I purposely loi-
tered by the way, so that I did not return so
early as I should have done. On coming near
the house, my master met me with his volley
of abuse, and after exhausting his stock of oaths
threatened to kick me over a ten feet tvall,
\vhich I thought would be doing well, as it
might serve as a preventative of future troub-
les provided we both kept our respective sides.

EITOJV.

LIFK OF W. 15. l.ICillTOIN.

urst not com
: up within my
and gloomy,
t of home, yet
y case would
nstead of sym-
gry and treat
d I sigh for a
;are, but alas ?
s our acquain-
ime more odi-
e tyrannical,
he swore and
ossessed him,
ive appeared
, I strove to
, and remain
r) should ex-
nt gained the
^ay to a care-
er to induce
ad its desired
out to take
boy,) which
irposely loi-
ot return so
coming near
th his volley
ock of oaths
n feet tvally
J well, as it
iture troub-
Bctive sides.

However, I made no reply until he ordered me
to follow him to the house and he would dis-
charge nic immediately ; a command, which I
informed him 1 would impticitely obey.

Upon this he moderated his passion, and
tried to persuade me to stay, promising to use
me better in future ; I was, however, proof to
all his entreaties, and utterly refused all, and
every term of reconciliation, and having received
about thirty shillings as the wages of my servi-
tude ; left him, and pursued my way towards
Boston, resolving to go any where, rather than
to return home.

My way led through a distant part of my
father's parish, and unwilling to be detected, I
took up my lodging some part of the day, in a
dry ditch where I slept soundly, notwithstand-
ing a heavy shower of rain which fell that
afternoon. Towards night, I resumed my
iourney, and meeting a shepherd boy, who
was acquainted with my brothers, I sent
word by him to my parents, that I had left
the employ of Mr. H., and had gone to a dis-
tance, to seek another situation. Upon arri-
ving at Boston, I sought the shelter of a tavern,
but on entering it observed some of my father's
neighbors. Fearful of discovery, I left it in
haste, and sought a place of greater security.
Having passed the night very much dejected,
I proceeded in the morning early, towards
Spilsby, where I arrived in the evening. The
next morning I left the place, in company with
a drover, who persuaded me to accompany him

I-IFE OP w. B. LIGHTON.

castle, . place at some dlin^:"'. J'" '"? ?"™-
to drive a drove of 'cattle %!! • *^*"" ''''n
e'-n for refreshment An.K ^'"PP'^g at a tav-
^ith the landlord ?o' become h'^^^' ' «"S'«««
my return from HorncasZ A P""' «««'
hard travel, the even[nrhpL»'u ^''*'" » ''ay',
cattle, safely lodged l^hiKf'' '"^' ^'"^^^ and
The drover herrseeraedtnf"'^ "r^'' P'""-
I had rendered him and t? ?"■?' "''^ «^"i<=c8
feet stranger, anZConly tSm"? "^ ^ P^^'
was a piece of dry bread p ",• ""ece'ved
abused, and havin/no d^^l •.*''^'"'g myself
I retired to bed, w'here X' " ■'" ''""''«*«.
•ngratitude of man a^H'.^h '"^""g «« the

to my temper of mi„d" I Mil f"^^^"'"' «"•»««>
while, forgot mv sorrowt *®",»*'eep, and for a

Early iLh^L".^°r/,"iP7P'««''e«-
castle, and proceeded fo^'?^ ''"^^ "^ Horn-
gathering, li went alo2 th TP'*'>""«»«.
heaven has bestowed on ml' It 1?"' '''•«»
tuted my chief support ?hSh. I, ^""^ •'°»*''-
«"ying at my new masteM. ^ ^''^- "P»«
quainted with the duties d^il "^"^^ "« »«*
requiring a strict attentll r"'"""? "P"" me,

f "e of all committed °oZ^« '"^ ° '""""^
injunctions I strove to ,Z^„''?*'Pmg- These

manner, sparing nehher im? " '''^ ^'"ctest
them into effect" But i ^on T P*'"^ *» P»«
fault-finding, was with himnA^T"^^'^^ *hat
probably, had been „corl„f '^'^T^""' ^^ich

*-.andw:.chhadm"Er;osre£^-

:0N.

'nted. From
him to Horn-
> assist him
>ing at a tav-
') I engaged
groom, after
fter a day's
J, drover and
lamed place,
the services
ne as a per-
I received
ling myself
to retaliate,
;»ng on the
jects, suited
», and for a
3xities.
'e of Horn-
mploymeat,
ruits kind
^is consti-
ay. Upon
de me ac-
upon me,
a serious
These
strictest
ains to put
veered that
per, which
th his na-
>le for do-

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

mesticfl to remain long in his employ. The ne-
cessity of my case induced me to bear his tyr-
anny as patiently as possible until he became
so disgustingly harsh and morose that I deter-
mined to seek employment at some other place.
My state, indeed, was but very little better
than that of a slave ; my life being one contin-
ual scene of toil and labor, without cessation.
Even the holy Sabbath brought me no relief,
as on that day, I had to take a horse to a cler-
gyman, four miles distant, and return on foot,
before breakfast ; and in the evening to go on
foot to bring it back again. Added to this, I
was not supplied with wholesome food, my diet
consisting of a little meat, half boiled, and
bread made of the coarsest materials, scarcely
baked, and so full of coals that I thought they
made it up with a paddle-stick, and threw it on
the ash-heap to receive a moderate scorching.
This, together with the cruel abuse I suffered
continually from my master, made my situation
almost intolerable. One morning, my master
having abused me most unmercifully, I went
to a neighboring clergyman, who was a magis-
trate, in order to obtain redress. Unfortunate-
ly, he was from home or, (as I was afterwards
informed,) he would have assisted me in pro-
curing it, as he had long been acquainted with
the brutal manner he had treated his depen-
dents. I applied to the next justice, a gentle-
man of high rank, who, instead of assisting
me, indignantly expressed his surprise, that a
boy of my age, should have the presumption to

LIFE OF W. IJ. LICHTON.

prosecute a man, whose superior influence, he
said, would crush uie in dcliance of all that I
could say or do. He said he " suspected
that I was as deep in the mud as my mas-
ter was in the mire," and that 1 ** had better go
home and tell my master to get a stick and give
me a good jlogging /" As niip^ht be expected,
I was no more pleased with the justice's mode
of law dealing, than with his insulting expres-
sions ; and amused myself, as I returned back
to my place, with the consideration, that had I
the means, I would get a warrant for both,
and crush them instead of their crushing me.
I should have left this tyrant of an innkeep-
er immediately, had it not been for an existing
obligation, by which it was agreed that a
month's notice should be given by either party,
previous to separation. However, I gave him
immediate notice I should leave his service in
one month, according to agreement. During
this last month of my service I was discovered
in the following providential manner. One
day, being employed as usual, a boy came and
questioned me about my home and parents, in
such a manner as showed him to be acquainted
with my circumstances. From him I learnt,
that it was intended, by a gentleman in the
neighborhood, to write to my father concerning
my situation, and that I might expect my father
after me. To avoid this, I promised to write
myself, which I accordingly did, giving a true
and circumstantial account of my proceedings,
promising to returm home, as soon as my time

I :i^

rojv.

influence, he
of all that I

" suspected
as my mas-
had better go
ich and give
be expected,
st ice's mode
ting expres-
turned back
, that had I
It for both,
rushing me.
an innkeep-

an existing
>ed that a
ither party,
I gave him

service in

During

discovered

er. One

came and
)arents, in

cquainted
learnt,
in the
mcerning
my father
to write

ig a true

jeedings,

my time

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

tin

of hire should be expired. This however, I
did, not because I meant to return home, but
because I could not bear the idea of having
my father como to carry me thither. The
reader is perhiips wondering how the boy just
mentioned, became aware of my condition.
With his [>utienc-e,I will show him. It will be
remembered that 1 sent won' by a shepherd
boy, to my parents, at the time I absconded, a
considerable period elapsed before they receiv-
ed it, which they no sooner did, than they were
filled with anxiety and consternation. My
father visited the gentleman with whom I had
lived, who informed him I had left his service
about two months since, with a design, as he
supposed, of returning home. Upon hearing
this, what were the agonies of his parental bo-
som can only be conceived by those who have
recreant sons. When he thought of my youth,
my inexperience, and my danger, wandering
about the country, exposed, for ought he knew,
to hunger, storm and nakedness, and more
than this, to the wiles of sharpers, and the
calls of vice, lie trembled for my safety, and
offered many a prayer for my preservation.
Sleep was banislied from his pillow, or if it
came, it was only to perplex him with dreams
of horror and visions of his lost son, surround-
ed with danger, or engulphed in misery. He
made every possible inquiry, but without suc-
cess, until at a party, in his neighborhood, he
happened to mention the subject ; a gentleman
from the place where I was living, who was on

LIFE OF W. B. IJGHTON.

I t

a visit to his friends, was one of the party, ob-
served that a boy answering the description
given, was living at a Mr. H's, as a groom :
upon which he was requested to make inquiry,
and forward what information he could, as
*'«peedily as convenient. The result of this re-
quest, the reader has seen in the preceding
page.

After my father had heard from me, he sent
twice by two different gentlemen, to ascertain
my circumstances, relieve my wants, and im-
portune me to return honye. But though I
was needy, I was nevertheless, proof to all
their kindnesses and my parents love. Young
reader, may God grant, you may never be
guilty of a breach of parental obedience !
My time at length expired, and I left Mr. H.,
but dreading to meet my father's frown, I did
not return home, notwithstanding my promises,
but went to work as a day laborer, in the out-
skirts of the town. In this despicable situation
1 remained for some time, but wages being low,
and labor scarce, it was with difficulty I pro-
cured a scanty subsistance, which induced me
to leave the place for the purpose of offering
myself as a soldier.

Before I take leave of this town, (the name
of which I have forgotten) I cannot forbear re-
lating one anecdote. While acting as groom,
I was sent one morning to the lodge of a neigh-
boring gentleman, when I obtained permission
to visit his hunting establishment. It contain-
ed a pack of hounds, (fifty-two is called a

>N.

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

le party, ob-
description
3 a groom :
ake inquiry,
e could, as
It of this re-
Q preceding

me, he sent

to ascertain

its, and im-

t though I

proof to all

7e. Young

/ never be

obedience !

ft Mr. H.,

own, I did

y promises,

the out-

e situation

being low,

ty I pro-

nduced me

of offering

(the name
brbear re-
as groom,
f a neigh-
B)ermission
t contain-
called a

pack,) which were all accommodated with
lodging, in a spacious and well arranged build-
ing called a Dog-kennel ; in which was a
cook house, and servants to keep every thing
in order in relation to these animals ; so much
so, that thousands of poor men in the kingdom
would think themselves happy with a far less
share of provision and comfort. Upon enter-
ing, I found abundance of oatmeal-puddingy
prepared for their entertainment, and a large
stock of the raw material, awaiting their con-
sumption. Being remarkably fond of oatmeal,
and hungry withal, I commenced eating the
raw material, and filling my mouth and hands
with it, was about to leave the establishment,
when the cook removed the cover from a huge
boiler, filled with horse flesh, the efiiluvia of
which, so affected my olfactory nerves as to
empty my mouth, stomach and hands of their
plenteous store of oatmeal, with which they
had been so liberally filled. Since that time,
oatmeal has been my abhorrence.

I now left for Horncastle, as I have stated,
to seek a place in my country's service, think-
ing there to find support and comfort. I soon
found the recruiting party belonging to the
second regiment of life guards, and offered
myself to them, but was rejected as being too
short. Determined not to be disappointed, I
set out for Lincoln. The weather being severe
and stormy, as a heavy an.d deep snow had fal-
len, followed by rain, I found it very diflicult
travelling. In consequence of the inclemency

LIFE OF VV. B. LIGiiiON.

mil >

'tl

of the season, the road I travelled was almost
lined, in some places, with ^aine ; such as
partridges, pheasants, SvC. ; which were so
tame, a man might easily have caught them,
without much trouble, but for that unrighteous
and tyrannical law which forbad him, on pain
of the severest penalties.

Arriving at Lincoln, I offered .^.lyself a sec-
ond time to a recruiting party, of the 33d Reg,
of Infantry, but was rejected on the same prin-
ciple as before mentioned. These repeated
disappointments robbed me of my spirits, and
made me the victim of despondency ; hope for-
sook my bosom ; prosperity was hidden from my
view ; poverty, with a ghastly look , stared me
in the face ; home, with all its pleasures, flitted
across my memory, and in the language of the
prodigal, I said, '' I will arise and go to my
father." The next Sabbath, in the afternoon, 1
arrived at my father's house. My parents re-
ceived me with joy and kindness, and by their
affectionate manner beguiled me into a relation
of my troubles and wanderings, at the same
time, giving me such advice as parental
love deemed necessary for my safety. Would
that I had obeyed it; then should I have escaped
much of my subsequent sufferings ! A few of
the next months of my life were spent at home,
peacefully and pleasantly. The following sum-
mer, a gentleman in an adjoining town applied
for my services. I accordingly entered his
employ, hoping to experience better treatment
than heretofore. 33ut here my hard fortune

■.'7

ON.

LIFE OF W. B- LIGHTON.

d was almost
lie ; such as
ch were so
aught them,
unrighteous
nin, on pain

lysclf a sec-
he 33d Reg.
e same prin-
3se repeated
Y spirits, and
y ', hope for-
den from my
i , stared me
sures, flitted
^uage of the
d go to my
afternoon, 1
parents re-
md by their
o a reLition
t the same
parental
Would
ave escaped
A few of
nt at home,
owing sum-
3wn applied
entered his
• treatment
ard fortune

followed me. My master, though a professed
Christian, was passionate and cruel. Twice
during my stay, he whipped me, and that too
most unjustly. In the month of September, he
was visited with aflliction, and during its contin-
uance, I resolved to leave him the first oppor-
tunity, notwithstanding my former painful expe-
rience in running away.

One day meeting \vith an old acquaintance, I
told him the story of my woes. He persuaded
me to go with him to Stamford, to join a militia
corps, which was to assemble in a few days for
a month's duty. I consented, and immediately
returned to my master's for a few articles of
clothing, where I found my brother Thomas, who
had come to pay me a visit. But framing a
hasty excuse, I contrived to persuade him to
visit me at some other opportunity, and rejoic-
ing in my iniquity, I soon joined my companion,
and we set out together for the aforementioned
place.

Thus a second time, I threw myself from the
arms of friends, and voluntarily exposed myself
to the worst of evils. How thoughtless, how
foolish, and how impatient are young people !
And how good has God been to me, in causing
me to escape the " wiles of the devil," and
teaching me the way to repose on the bosom of
Jesus Christ.

After a hard day's travel, we stopped at a
tavern, when, to my surprise, I learnt that my
companion was destitute of money, and depen-
ded upon me for support. To meet his require-
ments, I sold a watch, and before we arrived at
4

Ui'E OF W. B. LIOHTON.

I i(

Stamford, my last shillingwas changed to gratify
his intemperance. Finding ihat his company
would ultimately produce my ruin, I forsook
him, and was left alone, in the midst of a large
population, whose hardened sympathies were
not easily awakened by the language of distress,
or the tear of sorrow. I again had recourse to
my old method, and offered myself to a regiment
in the place, but with the same success as be-
fore. Necessity, now induced me to sell every
article of clothing which in decency could be
dispensed with, and meeting with a youth in
circumstances similar to my own, I left Stam-
ford in his company, to travel where fortune or
!^rovidence might direct. The trifling sums of
money we possessed were soon exhausted, and
our last farthing expended for provision, and be-
ing unable to obtain employment, we had no
other alternative but to throw ourselves on pub-
lic charity for support. The idea that we were
in the situation of common beggars, exposed to
the anathemas of those to whom we might ap-
ply for aid, was galling in the extreme, but the
calls of hunger, becoming more loud and vocif*
erous, we presented ourselves at the door of a
wealthy farmer, and with a piteous tone, told
our affecting tale, but his heart, rendered hard
by familiarity with distress, refused to be mel-
ted, and, with every indication of displeasure,
he bid us go our way. Thus failed, in our first
attempt, we proceeded on our journey, faint and
weary ; and, in all probability, might have sunk
from exhaustion, had not my companion found

ON.

iged to gratify
his company
I in, I forsook
1st of a large
pathies were
ge of distress,
d recourse to
to a regiment
access as be-
3 to sell every
incy could be
;h a youth in
, I left Stam-
ere fortune or
•ifling sums of
xhausted, and
k^ision, and be-
lt, we had no
elves on pub-
that we were
rs, exposed to
we might ap-
Ireme, but the
>ud and vocif-
the door of a
►us tone, told
jndered hard
led to be mel-
displeasure,
!d, in our first
|ney, faint and
[ht have sunk
►anion found

LIFE OF W. D. LIGHTON.

a distant relation of his, in that part of the
country through which we passed, from whom
we obtained a morsel^ the old woman (his rela-
tive) being any thing but a cheerful giver. Wo
arrived that night at Sleaford, a populous town,
ornamented with elegant modern buildings, an-
cient edificles, the remains of gothic splendors,
and beautiful, in no small degree, with the most
delightful of nature's productions. But alas f
to me all was uninteresting and sad ; for out of
the numerous habitations, not one afforded me
shelter ; out of the prolific stores of food it
contained, not one morsel offered itself to meet
my pressing wants. I felt solitary, amid the
hundreds who flocked along the busy streets. I
sighed for my father's house.

After some consultation, we agreed to seek a
shelter under the roof of some friendly inn,
though conscious that we had not wherewith to
pay our bills, and unwilhng to cheat to any
amount, we retired to bed without any thing to
eat for supper. But, so great was our fatigue,
that we slept but little, and when the first beams
of the morning shed their rays into our cham-
ber, we rose, and with much trepidation, descen-
ded the stairs, when, finding none but the do-
mestics of the house stirring, we bade them
prepare breakfast by the time of our return
from a short walk ; but we took a road we nev-
er retraced, and thus cheated them out of their
due for our accommodation. Here again, my
companion discovered an old acquaintance,
from whom wo obtained a hearty meal.

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

We now shaped our course to Lincoln, being
obliged to beg our support on the way. We
applied for relief at a rich gentleman's house,
the lady of which, gave us such a supply of
food, that it sustained us through the day.
Late in the evening we entered the city, and
adopted the same, measure for a lodging, as
before, but with less success. For on leaving
the house in the morning, we were pursued by
some of the family and overtaken, but after
receiving a severe reprehension, were permitted
to proceed.

Lincoln, the capital of Lincolnshire, is one
of the most noted cities in jb^ngland, that indu-
ces me to speak a little about it here,which may
not be uninteresting to the reader. *^It is seat-
. d on the side of a steep hill on the Witham,
which here divides into two streams. It had
formerly, fifty churches, now reduced to thir-
teen, besides the Cathedral. The Cathedral is
admired for its interior architecture, which is
the richest, and lightest Gothic style, and its
great bell, called 'J'om, of Lincoln, requires
twelve men to ring it."

Leaving this place we were completely dis-
couraged. Our hearts sunk within us. We
talked about home, and its former comforts, un-
til we were filled with grief, and mortified at
our disappointments, and yet, seeing no way to
prosper, we agreed to go back to our parents.
With aching hearts and wearied limbs we com-
menced our journey homewards, pursuing our
way in gloomy silence, for our sorrows were

'*!

Si.

LIFE OF W. D. LIGHTON.

coin, being

way. We

m's house,

supply of

the day .
3 city, and
odging, as
on leaving
pursued by

but after
e permitted

ire, is one
> thatindu-
^which may
"It is seat-
p Witham,
s. It had
;ed to thir-
Jathedral is
which is
le, and its
I, requires

Dletely dis-
us. We
nforts, un-
lortified at
no way to
r parents.
\s we com-
rsuing our
ows were

too big for utterance. On the way, I was for-
tunate to hire out to a gentleman who also took
pity on us and gave us something to eat. I
agreed to return and fulfil my engagaements on
Monday, the following week. He gave me a
shilling, as earnest money^ on which we subsist-
ed the rest of the way home. Upon arriving
near my father's, my companion left me and I
saw him no more

Being left alone, I retired to a lonely spot,
where, in happier days, I had indulged in many
a flight of youthful fancy. But now, dejection
sat upon my brow, and sorrow brooded around
my heart. The solemn stillness of nature ac-
corded with my feelings, and seemed to sympa-
thize in my distress. Here I stayed, absorbed
in deep reflection, until the appearance of my
brother Thomas, aroused me to a sense of my
situation. His presence, for a while, soothed
my feelings, until he informed me that my father
was highly incensed against me for my rebel-
lious conduct. Then my grief became insup-
portable, and I scarcely dared make my return
known to the rest of the family. At length I
ventured to appear before my offended father,
who was so charged with grief and passion,
that he treated me with the most distant cold-
ness. He talked to me seriously, as though he
was doing it for the last time ; and gave me
some very strict injunctions in regard to my fu-
ture life and conduct, to which I promised im-
plicit obedience.

It being on the Sabbath day, \Vhen I arrived
4»

LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON.

i r'

at home, I was under the necessity of returning
back to my place on the morrow, as it was the
time I had agreed upon with the gentleman by
whom I was hired. I accordingly informed my
father of my engagement, and stated my wish
was to fulfil my obligation, to which he answer-
ed in an angry manneVy^HIiatl might go, and he
wished I 7icver would come hack again, jor he
never wanted to see me more, and he cared not
where I went, or what became of r.ie /" This an-
swer of my father, and the feelings he manifes-
ted towards me, stung me to the very heart.
Indeed it was like the shock of a thunderbolt.
It rendered me powerless to say or do any
thing that might atone for the grief I had occa-
sioned him. I wished for the hour of separa-
tion as one that was anxious to be delivered
from a heavy doom. I thought too, as he pos-
sessed such feelings towards me, I never could
occasion him any more trouble by returning
home, but would, (if I could not succeed in
domestic service,) enter the service of my
country, or go to some foreign part, rather than
home.

Early in the morning, I was visited by Mr.
Ingram, a neighboring gentleman of advanced
age, who reasoned with me, and counselled me
as a tender father, telling me for my encour-
agement, my father's design to settle me in bu-
siness, as soon as my age and experience in the
world would be commendable. After present-
ing me with a small sum of money, he took his
farewell of me and we parted. While I was

LIFE OF W. IJ. LIGIITON.

eturning
L was the
icman by
rmed my
my wish
I answer-
0, and he
n, Jor he
cared not
This aii-
manifes-
sry heart,
nderbolt.
f do any
iad occa-
f separa-
delivered
s he pos-
VGX could
returning
cceed in
B of my
ther than

by Mr.
advanced
elled me
encour-
ne in bu-
ce in the
present-
took his
le I was

meditating on what he had said and done for
me, I was met by my father, who I perceived
still retained the same feelings towards me. He
was about to attend some business from home,
and was all prepared to proceed, when we met
again for the last time, and parted without say-
ing a word. I gazed upon him as he receded
from me in hopes he would return and give me
one consolitory word, together with his farewell
advice ; but he passed on and left me in cruel
silence. Since which time I have never had
the satisfaction to see him !

This, to me, was worse than death. To be
treated with neglect by one who had always
been one of the kindest of fathers. My soul
was pained, though I could not but attribute it
to my own folly, and misconduct. And now,
dear young reader, permit me to give you a
word of advice and caution, on this important
subject ; viz. obedience to parents. If you
enjoy them, it is your duty to obey them. They
are the authors of your being, and under God,
have been the means of your preservation.
They have afforded you all in their power, to
make you respectable in life. Then love them
for it. Remember there is a degree of affec-
tionate respect which is due to parents, that no
person else can properly claim. For a consid-
erable time, parents stand, as it were, in the
place of God to their children ; and therefore,
rebellion against their lawful commands, has
been considered as rebellion against God. How
then can you expect mercy from him, until you

I i

I ll

I 1

1 f

ft:

i I

111

I: )

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

obey your parents ? Nay, you never will find
mercy from him whose injunction is, "Children
obey your parents in the Lord," until you are
fully resolved to obey this important principle.
See Col. iii. 20. Eph. vi. 1. 3Iatt. xv. 4.
Exod. XX. 12.

The disregard of this requirement is the
cause of a vast proportion of the individual
wretchedness, sorrow, misery and death, found
in the world. Most who come to an untimely
end, are obliged to confess, that this, with the
breach of the Sahbathy were the principal causes
of their ruin. Reader ! art thou guilty ? Take
timely warning, humble thyself, therefore, be-
fore Ood, and repent, or thou wilt be damned
for ever. From such a curse, may God save
us ail !

After breakfast my mother informed me of
her intention to accompany me as far as Bos-
ton. Accordingly we prepared for our depart-
ure, when I took an aftectionate farewell of the
family, telling my brother Thomas in particular,
I should not see them at least, for ten years.
They joined in giving me expressions of regard,
and I left the endearing circle. But O ! what
were my feelings ? I cannot describe them.
My heart sunk within me ; and I was led to
give vent to my feelings in a flood of grief, as I
looked back for the last time, to take a farewell
view of the beloved home of my youth. As my
mother and myself proceeded in company, she
improved her time in giving the best advice of
which she was capable. Upon arriving at

T will find
"Children
il you are
principle,
itt. XV. 4.

nt is the
Individual
ith, found
untimely
with the
)al causes
Y ? Take
fore, be-
I damned
Jod save

id me of
as Bos-

r depart-
sll of the
irticular,
n years.
^ regard,
) ! what
>e them.
3 led to
ief, as I
farewell
As my
ny, she
Ivice of
ving at

\/ f

THE PARTING SCENE

LIFE OF W. n. LIGIITON.

Boston, she purchased for me a suit of clothes,
and then accompanied me into the church-yard
— there in solitude to take her last embrace of
her wayward child. That sacred spot — that
lonely grave-yard, is still impressed upon my
memory. It was there, my mother pressed her
last warm kiss of affection to my burning
cheeks ; there I received her last embrace ;
there I heard her last words. They still float
upon my ears, even now do I seem to hear her
last expression — "Farewell my son, be a good
boy."

A motliers's love, how strong it binds I
Like heavenly bliss, 'tis sweet, and dear,
'Tie there distress, a solace, finds.
Her love we trust without a fear.

We parted on this delightful spot, that is yet
dear to my memory. The solemnity of the
place, together with the affecting scene of sep-
arating, had such a lasting and powerful charm
that it has rendered the grave-yard a desirable
retreat for pious meditation. The Jlast faltering
accents which fell from her quivering lips will
ever be remembered with strong sentiments of
affectionate regard. O, there was a sacred
sweetness which I felt in her voice, as she ut-
tered her last words, that has such a charm
upon my soul, that the ago of time will never
erase ! And, could I reward her for the love
and kindness she shewed me, in this my never
forgotten trouble, I would, with the utmost
pleasure and delight, seize the first moments

LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON.

ever dropped from the lips of woman kind, es-
pecially from those possessing her rank in life.
Indeed I was glad when I had brought the old
lady to her own door, and thus freed myself
from the company of an abominable old scold.
It was my comfort, on my way back to reflect
that she had at least, partial reward in the mis-
ery which is consequent upon the possession
of so vile a disposition. "A man who has such
a woman for his wife, is like a tenant who has
got a cottage with a bad roof, through every
part of which, the rain either drops or pours.
He can neither sit, stand, work, eat, drink or
sleep without being exposed to these droppings!
Miserable is the man who is in such a case,
with either house or wife ! "

The effect of this scolding was that the
house-keeper left her situation ; and her place
was supplied by one the very opposite of her-
self, and the exact counterpart of our old scold.
She from some cause or other, conceived a dis-
like towards me, and consequently, poured
volumes of complaints against me into the ears
of my employer, who believed the whole, with
no other evidence than her assertion. I was
thus doomed to be deprived of my situation ;
for one morning he called me, and presented
me with the miserable sum of one shilling,
(which was all I received for about six weeks
work) and told me I might consider myself dis-
missed from his service.

With this small sum I left for Lincoln, where
I spent the following night ; from thence, after

4»

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

I, es-
i life,
le old
lyself
scold,
•eflect
3 mis-
ession
ssuch
no has
every
pours,
nnk or
apings!
a case,

lat the
r place
3f her-
l scold,
i a dis-
poured

e ears

J, with
I was

lation ;

jsented

[hilling,

weeks

^elf dis-

I, where
, after

disposing of such articles of clothing as I could
best spare to obtain means to travel with, I
went to Doncaster, and from thence to Leeds
in Yorkshire. I found much here to afford
amusement, and to divert my mind from my
lonely situation, so long as my money lasted ;
but when that was gone every hope fled with
it. Hence the old proverb — "a man may as
well be without his brains as without money in
England." But before I take leave of this
place I will just stop to mention the peculiar
character of the market ; which will no doubt,
be interesting to many of my young inquiring
readers. Leeds has been a long time famous
for the woollen manufacture, and is one of the
largest and most flourishing towns in the coun-
try. The market is perhaps one of the finest
in the world. The mode of doing business is
indeed peculiarly striking. "At 6 o'clock in
the summer, and about 7 in the winter the
market bell rings ; upon which, in a few min-
utes, without hurry, noise, or the least disor-
der, the whole market is fllled, all the benches
covered with cloth, as close to one another as
the pieces can lie longways, each proprietor
standing behind his own peace. As soon as
the bell has ceased ringing the factors and
buyers, of all sorts, enter the hall, and walk up
and down between the rows, as their occasions
direct. When they have pitched upon their
cloth, they lean over to the clothier, and by a
whisper, in the fewest words imaginable, the
price is stated. One asks, the other bids, and

LIFE \jt W. B. LIGHTON.

they agree or disagree in a moment. In a little
more than an hour all the business is done, ten
or twenty thousand pound's worth of cloth, and
sometimes more, are bought and sold with a
whisper only ; the laws of the market here be-
ing more strictly observed than at any place in
England." The rich and splendid gas works,
by which the town is lighted up throughout at
night, make no small addition to its beauty.

During my stay here, I was indefatigable in
my efforts to obtain employment, but all was in
vain. I was sadly situated now, as winter was
approaching, and to be friendless and money-
less di^ring the inclement season of the year,
would be at once dangerous and painful. To
avoid this, I visited Wakefield and Barnsley,
two noted towns, but with no better success,
except that I made out to obtain a few days
work. Upon this, I returned to Leeds, as the
fair was about to commence, hoping to gain
some small employment during that season of
noise and bustle. After having spent a few
days in a fruitless search for work, during which
time I subsisted on charity, and seeing hov
small a prospect existed of my escaping starva-
tion, I determined once more to try my fortune
at enlistment, as being compelled to it from o6*

solute necessity* I accordingly made applica-

• — 11^

♦Necessity often compels us to do things that are repugnant
to our feelin|s and int* rest; and which we would not do, were
we relieved from the necessity of doing it, merely for the preset*
yation of life, and its enjoyments. Thus it was, and probably
is now the case with vast numbers of the honest aud industriout
poor of Knglttnd, who, after they have been driven to deiUtu-

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

n a little
one, ten
otli, and
d with a
iiere be-
place in
3 works,
ghout at
luty.
gable in
11 was in
nter was

money-
le year,
ful. To
{arnsley,
success,
few days
s, as the

to gain
eason of
nt a few
ig which

ng hov
starvt,-

fortune
from ab»

applica-

repugnant
ot do, were

the prcser*
d probably

industrious

to deitittt*

tion to the Sergeant of the 33d Regiment, who
enlisted me for the 6th Regiment, which was
then lying at Leeds. I was immediatly march-
ed before the Colonel, and officers of the Regi-
ment, and passed the standard, but on being
more circumspectly examined, I was pronoun-
ced unfit for service, being half an inch shorter
than the height required by law for soldiers of
that Regiment. The Colonel jocosely answer-
ed, on my rejection, that if I wished to be a
soldier, I must " go home and grow a little
more, after which, he should have no objection
against taking me."

Disappointed, I r;tj. t went to York, a city
noted for its splendic bsdral, which is reck-
oned the most elegant ^**a magnificent Gothic
structure in the kingdom — that in Lincoln
perhaps excepted. Passing from thence to
the next town I found the people in a state of
tumult and disorder, being engaged in burning
an effigy of the reigning king, (George IV.)
whose cruelty and baseness towards his wifa,
(Caroline) had drawn upon him the odium and
contempt, not only of his own subjects, but of
every feeling and enlightened man in the world,
who had become fairly acquainted with the
subject. Calling at a tavern, I was informed
that a recruiting Sergeant w^as stationed there
for the night ; upon which, I decided to try
once more to become a soldier, for I was now

tion, through the scarcity of labor and the oppression of gov-
ernment, enlist for soldiers as an anylum to ecreen them from
their impending miseries.
5*

m^"j.i!£~

u ! -JmMiWJfcB « u a gt *«

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

1:1:

in the most deplorable situation, being entirely
destitute of money, or friends, I retired to
bed faint and weary, not having had much to
eat during the day, and no means of procuring
a supper at night. When morning arrived, I
procured a large quantity of paper, and cutting
it to the shape and size of my feet, for I ivas
determined not to be too short this time, drew on
my stockings, and thus heis^htened, went again
to undergo a dread ordeal. Placing myself
beneath the standard, I seemed tall enough, and
should have passed had it not been for the
scrutiny of the sergeant : Said he, "are your
stockings thick .^" I replied, No : Upon which
he went to examining the bottoms of my feet^
with ae much care as if he had been afraid of
taking the itch. My contrivance was of course
discovered, and I was dismissed with a repri-
mand so severe, that it taught me to be cautious
how I used paper to add to my growth.

Passing from thence, on my way to the next
town, I entered a tavern, in hopes to obtain
something from the hand of charity. I had
not been there long before I was noticed by a
gentleman, who perceiving my dejection, took
pity on me, and in some measure relieved my
wants. He said he was in want of a young
man to enter for him as a substitute in the mili-
tia, and would give four pounds bounty to any
one who would engage. On enquiring if I
was willing to engage for him, I told him I was,
when an immediate agreement was entered in-
tO; and I returned home with the gentleman^

tirely
)d ta
zh to
uring
^ed, I
itting
r ivas
sw on
again
nyself
;h,and
)V the

your
whicU
Y feet,
aid of
bourse

repri-
utious

to any

if I

was,
led in-
$man,

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

i :^

who hired my board until the day the staff offi-
cers met for swearing in their subjects, which
was about a week. The day arrived, when,
after due inspection, I was sworn, and my
name enrolled to serve five years, during the
war, in the North York militia. •After every
thing had been completed «s respected my en-
listment, a very unexpected turn took place in
the mind of my substitutor, who, after all I
could say or do, would not pay me but two
pounds — half the sum agreed upon, but said he
would pay the other half when the regiment as-
sembled for duty.* Dissatisfied and somewhat
vexed withal, I promised within myself I would
never meet to do duty for him, but would go
into some other part of the kingdom.

Accordingly the next morning I left the gen-
tleman, militia and all behind, and mounted the
stage, in order to go to London, in which I
was soon carried to Stamford, and from thence
i proceeded on foot to Huntingdon, where fall-
ing in company with a young man, who had re-
cently visited the great metropolis, he dissua-
ded me from my design of going thither, on
the ground of my inexperience, and the dan-
ger to which I should consequently be exposed
in that laboratory of vice and crime.

» ■■ — ,- , r

* The method pursued in England, with the militia corps, is
different from that pursued in America. There they only draft
8o many out of each town, which is but few in number, and
each Regiment assembles one month every year to regular duty.
During which term government provides them with a suit of
regimental uniform, gun and equipments, and receives the same
back at the end of tlie term of their sen ice.

LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON.

r,'i

i !

i !l

!■ !

I now turned my vacillating steps towards
Coventry, when I again began to experience
much evil in my circumstances and while m
this situation almost entirely destitute, far
from friends and in the midst of a people who
would take but little,if any pity at all upon me,
I submitted myself to the most painful train of
reflections. Despair was depicted in my feel-
ings, while melancholy with her train of depres-
sive gloom, became my abiding companion.
As I was travelling in the dusk of one beautiful
evening, I fell in company with a young man
to whom I related my sufferings. He (the
young mfin) perceiving my trouble, and dejec-
tion of mind, spake comforting, and gave me
good counsel that had some happy effect upon
my feelings, which will induce me to remember
him, and the interview, with pleasure. Just
after we had parted, a post chaise passed me
going in the direction of C, when without
hesitation, I jumped on, unobserved by the
coachman, and soon arrived at the place of my
destination.

The same evening I sought to obtain relief,
but in vain, until I thought I must starve to
death,as I had not a penny to help myself with;
and after forming a resolution to offer myself
for the army, I made inquiries of a man if there
was a recruiting party in the place,he informed
me there was, and knowing he should obtain a
small sum from the sergeant, for his trouble in
case I enlisted, went immediately with me to
their rendezvous and introduced me to a ser-
geant of the staff corps.

^1
(1

LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON.

ience
lie in
e, far

who
n me,
Eiin of
f feel-
epres-
anion.
autiful
g man
e (the
dejec-
ve me
it upon
ember
Just
ied me
irithout
3y the

of my

relief,
rve to
f with;
myself
f there
formed
btain a
uble in
me to
a ser-

Afler some inquiry into my circumstances,
the officer gave me a penny's worth of bread,
with a little cheese and beer, which was prin-
cipally all I had eaten that day, and travelled
about thirty miles. In the morning the sergeant
before he had enlisted me, took me to the stan-
dard, but found I was half an inch too short for
any regiment in the service, save one, which
was the 60th Rifles. He said he would enlist
me for that regiment, as I should not be able to
enter in any other. Afler many a flaming
description of the pleasures of a soldier's life,
and telling me withal, that the regiment waa
then stationed in Americay I eagerly seized the
opportunity to enlist from the fond anticipation
that I should see a country so famous, and to
which my eager disposition craved to travel,
as the reader has been already informed.

-Being pronounced fit for service, I was the
next day taken before an officer for the purpose
of taking oath, or what is generally termed
swearing in. The gentleman asked me how
long I would serve ; whether for a limited term,
or for life ; to which I deliberately replied /
would serve during life.^ The oath was then

— -- - ■■ — — - ■ — - ■

* This was one of the most imprudent steps I could possibly
have taken, to inlist for life : as it involved ine into a perpe-
tuity of misery and suffering all my days. But the candid read-
er, after considering well my case, will not remain long at a
loss to answer every inquiry he may make respecting it. The
reason why I did so is too plain and obvious. I was in the firat

Elace an inexperienced boy. In the second placel was courted
y flatterers who might be said to seduce me by their bewitching
descriptions of a soldier's life; who after they had enlisted ma
(for which they received a small bounty for every recruit) cared

■ I — Aw

LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON.

aealedy and I was delivered up to military com-
mand. Thus^ at the age of fifteen, on the 6th
of December, 1820, I became a soldier in His
Britannic Majesty's 60th rifle corps.

notliing more about me. In the third plctce, and most impor-
tant of all, I had occasioned great trouble to my parents, my
father especially, through my disobedience. Therefore, to have
returned home would have incurred a heavier censure ; and made
him more angry, and my life more miserable. I had therefore
resolved never more to return. Added to this the misery and
entire destitution of my circumstances, and the deep trouble of
mind of which I was then the unhappy subject, I inconsiderate-
ly without any regard to the future threw myself away, and to
repeat my father's words, "/cared not what became ofm§.**
How rash, and how imprudent are young people! and yet how
merciful is God to bear with their reoellion ! Young reader be-
ware ! ■ These were the reasons why I was led to enlist for
life, I have therefore now one favor to ask of the reader ,wheth«
er he be a child or a parent ; that before he casts his censure
upon me for my imprudent move, he will stop, and rather than
inflict it,he will cover my youthful folly with a mantle of mercy,
as he may have children whom througn the passion of youth and
the treachery of flatterers may be led to a similar evil. May
God grant that parents may never know the sorrows and troub-
les arising from disobedient children ! Hear this ye parents,
train up your offspring in the fear of God. Begin wiUi them
from their cradle, and impress obedience at this early period
of their existence. Distill the holy principles of the Bible, and
of the glorious religion of heaven, when the mind is young
and tender ; for it is then the most susceptible of receiving that
knowledge and wisdom which will form the future character of
the man, and render him a blessing to society and the world.
Let this important duty be persevereingly attended to, and we
shall soon see tlmt wretchedness decreasing in the world of
which the base and cruel neglect of tliis duty is its legitimate
cause.

But a word to the youth. Young reader, you see what evils
follow close upon the heels of the disobedient. Areyou of that
stamp 1 If you are, take timely warning from my example, or
you will ruin both your soul and body forever. Do you ceaso
to regard the counsel of your parents 1 If you do, you cease to

J -yt

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

r com-
he6th
in His

3t iinpor-
rents, my
J, to have
and made
therefore
lisery and
;rouble of
nsiderate-
ly, and to
eofm:**
d yet how
reader be-
enlist for
der,wheth-
lis censure
ather tlian
5 of mercy,
' youth and
ivil. May
and troul>>
parents,
wiUi them
rly period
Bible, and
is young
eiving that
laracter of
the world.
0, and we
world of
legitimate

what evils
^ou of that
example, or

you ceaso
ou cease to

The reflection has probably arisen in the
breast of the thoughtful reader, that here are
many adventures recorded for so young a man
to pass through or experience. This I ac-
knowledge, but simply reply ,that I have strictly
adhered to truth, in the whole of my statements.
At the close of this chapter, let me most affec-
tionately tell the discontented youth who reads
these pages, that in my early, and subsequent
trials, he may see the evils that await him if he
allow discontent to have its sway, and perhaps
far greater ones than these ; for if the author
has happily escaped from iniquity and vice to
which he was exposed during these wander-
ings, it is alone through the grace of God who
has preserved him.

CHAPTER II.

From the time he enlisted, to his being embodied with his regi-
ment in Montreal, Lower Cannda.

I am now commencing a new era of my life,
and I would that I were better able to describe
the scenes through which I have passed, for
even now, I feel my spirit rising to God in ad-
oration and thanksgiving for that Providence
which has watched over and protected me in

regard the counsel of God ; and miserable indeed is thy soul,
if while thou livest tliou art not governed by any filial regard
to either ! Turn then to the path of obedience, virtue, and
religion, and so shalt thou secure a long, happy, and blessed
inheritance !

tr- -^' ~.

' MW 'llll I

I '

LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITOX.

:i :'

: 1

\ S
)

all my troubles. In view of the goodness of
God to me, in these things, 1 am constrained to
exclaim with David, " J3/es3 ihe Lord, O my
soul and forget not all his benefits. ^^

I remained in Coventry about ten days wait-
ing for the sergeant to complete the number
of recruits he was commissioned to raise. These
days I spent in visiting the different places of
recreation, in company with my fellow recruits.
I felt also, much concerned that my parents
should know my situation, as they had not
heard from me since I left home. But fearing
my new scene of lifb would induce my father to
visit me, procure my discharge, and take mo
home, I staggered to determine what to do.
But after a few serious reflections upon this
subject, and making his case my own, I wrote
him a plain account of all that I had done, re-
questing at the same time an immediate answer,
but receiving orders to march the next week, I
wrote a second time simply stating the fact of
my departure and the place of my destination.

On the morning of our departure, we were
paraded before the staff officers, by whom we
were asked if we had any just cause of com-
plaint. We answered negatively. Upon which,
one of the officers gave us a few words of ad*
vice, and caution, which was highly necessary
as almost every man exhibited the utmost en-
thusiasm and glee. Under the command of an
experienced officer we proceeded on our march
to the Isle of Wight. Our journey was easy,

we seldom exceeded sixteen miles per day.

^ i

ess of

ned to

O my

s wait-
lumber
These
Lces of
jcruits.
parents
[•dd not
fearing
ither to
ake me
: to do.
on this
I wrote
)ne, re-
inswer,
yeek, I
fact of
nation,
were
om we
f com-
which,
of ad-
essary
oSt en-
d of an
march
3 easy>
er day.

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

However, on our way we met with serious diffi-
culties arising from the incivility of those land-
lords upon whom we were billetted during our
march. To them the sight of a body of recruits
was always disgusting, which disgust led them
to treat these men in the most shameful, and
sometimes almost brutal manner. Hence we
were often put into beds, the sight of which
would make a decent man shudder, and cause
his flesh to crawl. Whenever we received good
usage from this quarter, we failed not to treat
them in the most respectful manner in return ;
but on receiving contrary treatment we annoy-
ed them by hooting all night like a party of owls
and careless of threats, and importunity, we
constantly kept our ungracious host from sleep
until the dawn of day bid us take our depar-
ture. At one place, when the hour arrived
which called us to retire, we were required to
follow the landlord, a command we cheerfully
obeyed, hoping from the appearance of the
place, to meet with comfortable beds and bed-
ding. But our hopes were soon blasted from
the continued progression of our march, for he
pursued his way through the back yard towards
the stables. Indeed each man now looked sor-
rowful, expecting we were to be stabled, like
horses. But having taken us through various
windings, he at length brought us to an upper
loft, connected with some of the out houses,
when he left us with the following compliment :
"Gentlemen, take which bed you please."
Sorrowful sight ! To be sure we had a light,
6

LIFE OF \V. B. LIGHTON.

[|
!

i !

II iH 1

but our light served but to make known the
horrors of our worse than J^Tewgate cell. Like
the moon in a cloudy night, bursting fitfully
through the scowling vapors, she serves but to
give the benighted traveller a glimpse of the
craggy rocks and tremendous dangers which
surround him, but afford him no relief from his
trouble. So with our light ; it served but to
increase our disgust, and to make known the
character of those who had visited the disa-
greeable spot before us. The room was large
and filthy, containing a number of heaps, from
their appearance I should scarcely call them
beds.. Beds however they were, composed of
the coarsest materials and any thing but clean.
The walls were black and filthy having been
smoked with the flare of the candle and portray-
ed with the most ghastly images, so abhorrent
that they reminded me of the chambers of hell.
And indeed I should have pronounced the place
a fitter habitation for devils than for rational
men. Had I been alone, I should have been
alarmed ; — as it was, I felt as if I was in the
den of some wretched miscreant. Finding there
was no help in the case, from constraint, we
submitted, and composed ourselves in the best
way we could. Upon the approach of morning
we took and heaped bed upon bed into one fil^
thy pile, and then prosecuted our march to, and
through the city of Oxford, so famed for its uni-
versity ,and also as being the place where many
of the followers of Jesus have, amidst flames
of fire, "given up the ghost." At an early

V I

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

wn the
Like
fitfully
but to
I of the
which
ifom his
i but to
iwn the
,e disa-
as largo
)S, from
ill them
)osed of
it clean.
Qg been
portray-
bhorrent
of hell,
he place
rational
,ve been
l3 in the
ng there
aint, we
the best
morning
one jil^
to, and
ir its uni-
te many
it flames
an early

hour on the tenth day of our march, we arrived
at Southampton, a considerable town deriving
its importance from its contiguity to the sea.
It was at this place that the reproof of Canute
to his flattering courtiers, so often mentioned by
writers, is said to have occurred. As it is pos-
sible all my young readers may not have read
it, for their amusement and instruction I will
here relate it.

"As Canute the Great, King of England,
was walking on the sea shore at Southampton,
accompanied by his courtiers, who offered him
the grossest flattery, comparing him to th(«
greatest heroes of antiquity, and asserting that
his power was more than human, he ordered a
chair to be placed on the beach, while the tide
was coming in. Sitting down with a majestic
air, he thus addressed himself to the sea : —
"Thou sea, that art a part of my dominions, and
the laud whereon I sit, is mine : no one ever
broke my commands with impunity. I, there-
fore, charge thee to come no farther upon my
lands, and not to presume to wet either my feet
or my robe, who am thy Sovereign." But the
sea, rolling on as before, and without any res-
pect, not only wets the skirts of his robe, but
likewise splashed his thighs ; on which be rem
up suddenly, and addressing himself to his at-
tendants, upbraided them with their ridiculous
flattery, and very judiciously expatiated on the
narrow and limited power of the greatest mon-
arch on earth. " Flatterers who praise great
men, for their imaginary merit, lull them to

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

I if:

' ii

sleep to their real miseries." Then reader
beware of flattery : of which the poet says,

''Alas ! thy sweet perfidious voice, betrays
His wanton ears, with thy Syrian baits.
Thou wrapp'st his eyes, in mist, then boldly lays.
Thy lethal gins their crystal gates.
Thou lock'et every sense, with thy false keys.
All willing prisoners to thy close deceits.
His ear most nimble, where it deaf should be.
His eye most blind, where most it ought to see.
And when his hearts most bound, then thinks himself
most free."

The hour of our embarkation at length arriv-
ed, and after a few hours pleasant sail we land-
ed at Cowes, in the Isle of Wight, and proceed-
ed on ;Our march to the garrison, near Newport,
at which place we arrived late in the evening.
On the day following we were inspected by the
board of officers for that purpose, and sent to
our respective detachments, where we immedi-
ately commenced our new profession. And
soon I found my painful experience, that a sol-
dier^s life was far from being so easy and pleas-
ing as I had been taught to believe. I soon
found that toil and fatigue were incident to his
life ; and that the plea of youth, and inexperi-
ence could not be admitted, nor urged as a
ground for exemption from duties which my
strength was scarcely sufficient to perform. 1
shall here enter into a few particulars of my
experience,that my readers may form some idea
of a British soldier's life.

Having fully entered upon this career, I was
sent to the field to become minutely acquainted
with the duties of my station : and notwith-

LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON.

^ ■

I reader

lys,

lays.

ks himself

th arriv-

ve land-

jroceed-

rewport,

jvening.

d by the

sent to

immedi-

I. And

at a sol-

d pleas-

I soon

it to his

aexperi-

^ed as a

hich my

brm. 1

•s of my

me idea

r, I was
|uainted
lot with-

standing my ungracefulness at first, I was soon
pronounced ^^fit for duty.^^ In these schools for
military instruction, were employed men of the
most tyrannical dispositions, whose unmerciful
proceedings, begat in their scholars, feelings of
decided antipathy. Whereas, had they pursu-
ed a milder course, they might have secured
the good will of all who were placed beneath
them. But instead of this, the least offence
offered to these myrmidons, was resented with
the most brutal ferocity, and often in a manner
totally repugnant to the discipline of the Army;
which, though severe in itself, does not counte-
nance acts of tyranny on the part of subalterns.
Their conduct towards us, had it been known,
would have produced an expulsion. But fear
bound our lips, and we submitted ourselves to
these tyrannical monsters.

But our trouble did not end here. Would
that it had, we should not have had so much
^ause to repine, and mourn. We were abso-
lutely deprived of many of the necessaries of
life. Our daily allowance was but one pound
of bread ; one pound of meat ; a pint of soup;
and a pint of tea, with three or four potatoes,
per man ; which in itself was scarcely suffi-
cient had it been of good quality and measure.
But they dealt out the miserable stuff as choice
as if it had been gold. Our bread was compo-
sed of the coarsest materials, and such was its
adhesive qualities, that if a piece was thrown
against the wall, there it would remain.

In consequence of this scanty allowance the
6*

LIFE OF W. B. UGHTON.

ft !

s. ■

ill

I! !

young troops became strongly addicted to pil-
[ering, while many, from a principle of honesty,
actually endured the pangs of hunger. So great
was the distress, that every article of clothing,
that could possibly be spared, was disposed of
to procure the necessaries of life. Many of
my companions in military adventure, now be-
came anxiously concerned about the future.
Some applied to their parents for money to
procure their discharge, which many of them
obtained.

A very painful circumstance occurred during
our stay in this place which made every young
soldier lament the sad step he had taken, and
almost to wish he had never been born. A
very tespectable young man, apparently of so-
ber habits, (he was married) was so affected
with a sense of the wretchedness into which he
had thrown himself, that he v/rote to his pa-
rents for money to procure his discharge. But
unable to procure the 'necessary means from
thenif he adopted a measure, which not even
his pungent distress, and pressing want could
possibly justify. He was roomed with the pay-
master sergeant of the regiment, and from him
he secretly purloined tu^enty pounds; a sum suf-
ficient to effect the desired object, which he
enclosed in a letter, directed to his father. The
loss, however, was soon disco , ered. For m
lodging it in the post office, the post master
having fears respecting it, made inquiry at the
source from whence it was missing, and he was
according imprisoned, tried by a court martial;

II ,>»>

LIFE OF W. B* LIGHTON.

I to pil-
onesty,
)0 great
iothing,
osed of
[any of
low be-
future.
loney to
)f them

d during
y young
ten, and
orn. A
ly of so-
afFectcd
^hich he
his pa-
^e. But
ans from
lot even
nt could
the pay-
rom him
sum suf-
hich he
er. The
For in
t master
y at the
4 he was
martial,

convicted, and sentenced to thd cruel and igno-
minious punishment of three hundred lashes.

During his confinement, driven almost to des-
peration by his situation, and doubtless while
deprived of the right use of his reason, he
wrote an instrument with his own blood, in
which he swore unhallowed allegiance to the
Devil, and expressed his intention of joining
confederacy with the prince of darkness, there-
bv to evade the force of his cruel sentence.
"This instrument was discovered, and presented
to the Adjutant, who after pondering a moment
over its mysterious contents, laconically obser-
ved, " If the Devil is in him we will whip him
out." The morning arrived for the execution
of the sentence, and preparations were made
for its accomplishment About two thousand
troops were marched to the 8pot,where a square
of four men in depth was soon formed. Pfext
arrived the trembling culprit, who was stripped ,
and tied to a triangle, prepared for the purpose.
When the order for commanding punishment
was given, the general sympathy of the troops
was expressed by a universal groan. Every
blow which was inflicted, while it lacerated the
back of the culprit, pained the heart of every
soldier, and many turned aside from beholding
the horrid scene. The bleeding criminal,cried
in loud, and piercing accents for pardon, until
the oft repeated blows created a deathish numb-
ness upon the flesh and he became insensible to
pain. At length, from the loss of blood, which
flowed freely from his wound, he fainted, and

trr-

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

I I ,!':

was conveyed from the brutal scene to the ho8«
pital.

This painful circumstance produced iii my
mind many a cutting reflection, and gave birth
to a fear, that by some unfortunate act, I should
bring upon myself a similar punishment. Fain
would I have petitioned my father to procure
my discharge ; but the remembrance of my un-
grateful act towards him, prevented me ; and 1
concluded I would bear my ills in silence ;
consolling myself with the hope of better days
when joined to my regiment in Canada.

Another circumstance tended much to mili-
tate against our peace. We were not permit-
ted to ^o, on any account whatever, beyond the
sound of the drum. One mile only in circum-
ference, was the extent oi territory we were
allowed ; nor could we travel beyond this limit,
without exposing ourselves to the treatment of
deserters, which punishment would have been
the infliction of seven hundred lashes, or im-
prisonment, with transportation for life. We
had had one specimen of this species of pun-
ishment and numbers were then in close con-
finement, awaiting their fate, with an anxiety
almost as painful as the punishment. But not-
withstanding these coffent warnings, I was once
nearly involved in a like disaster.

One beautiful aflernoon, as we were taking a
walk through the streets of Newport, near
which place we were stationed, the sight of an
ancient castle enkindled within us a desire to
visit its antiquated walls ; which, from report,

LIFE OP W. D. LIGHTON.

3 h08-

ih my
3 birth
should

Fain
rocure
my un-

and I
lence ;
3r days

o mili-
permit-
ond the
circum-
e were
is limit,
nent of
e been
or im-
We
of pun-
je con-
anxiety
3ut not-
as once

•t

aking a
near
it of an
esire to
report,

we learned had been the place of the oonfine-
tocnt of the French prisoners during the war.
So solicitous were we to visit this place, that
without respect to our restricted limits, we pur-
sued our way towards it, and arrived without
interruption at the spot ; being then about four
miles from the garrison, and three miles beyond
the line of our bounds. We were highly grat-
ified with the scenery around the castle — it was
strikingly beautiful. But our pleasures were
soon intererrupted by a remembrance of the
danger to which we were exposing ourselves,
and the rapid approach of the hour appointed
for our return to duty. But not contented with
what we had seen of the exterior, as we walked
around it, we resolved if possible, to gain ad-
mittance to the interior, as it was famed for the
magnificence of its architecture. We accor-
dingly pursued our way through a narrow pas-
sage to the first door, which being open, wo
entered witliout ceremony, and advanced to a
stupendous arch, where was a door of no ordinary
size and workmanship, which repelled our uni-
ted, and most powerful efforts to open. We
looked through some crevices, made by the
mutilating finger of time, to discover, if possi-
ble, what objects were within ; but could dis-
cover naught, save what appeared to be other
doors, equally ponderous as the one which im-
peded our progress. We next tried to arouse
the attention of the inmates,by gently knocking;
but receiving no answer, we became more loud
in our demands, and pulled lustily upon a rope

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

I I 'l

to which a bell was attached. But no answer
We now grew impatient, especially as our time
was growing short, and we at length joined to
give one unanimous call for admission ; each
soldier taking a stone, and pounding with all his
might against the massive doors, which, togeth-
er with the continued ringing of the bell, rev-
erbrated with a most astounding noise along
the vaulted roofs of the building, until its echo
became deafening and terriffic, Fearing that
the inmates might become touched with resent-
ment at our unseemly behavior, we hastily re-
tired, and just as we passed the outer door, we
met ^n elderly gentleman, who reprimanded us
severely for our misconduct and threatened, at
the same time, to send for a piquet guard. It
was fortunate for us that we had arrived beyond
the outer door, else it would have been easy for
him to have made us his prisoners, and we had
then paid dearly for our adventure . Fearing
that he had already sent for a guard of soldiers,
for our apprehension, we quickened our pace,
and arrived safely within the precints allowed
us.

Shortly after, we were again paraded to wit-
ness another species of military punishment,
which though of a mortifying character, was
less tinged with barbarity. It is sometimes cal-
led ** a drumming out." The individual in
question was placed between the ranks of in-
fantry, followed by the musicians, playing the
" rogues march." He was thus conducted to
the confines of the garrison, where he was left

answer
our time
joined to
n ; each
ith all his
I, togeth-
bell, rev-
se along
I its echo
ring that
;h resent-
istily re-
door, we
landed us
a.tened, at
uard. It
pd beyond
1 easy for
d we had
Fearing
soldiers,
ur pace,
Is allowed

Id to wit-
lishment,
[cter, was
limes cal-
ddual ia
Iks of in-
lying the
Iducted to
was left

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

to pursue his own course, being now disbanded,
or freed from the obligations of his oath, and
no longer a military subject. This punishment
is sometimes inflicted for petty thefts, and in-
corrigible profligacy. Many of our number
would gladly have exchanged situations with
him ; seeing it delivered him from all the tyr-
anny and suffering, to which he, iii comnion
with us, had been exposed. O, how would I
have greeted such a punishment. To me it
would have been the highest favor they could
have conferred upon me ! But alas ! I could
only in imagination trace the road which led to
home and all its lost delights ; while the reality
of my case was like a dagger in my heart. O,
miserable prospect ! A perpituity of bondage,
to cease only with life ! An insurmountable
barrier placed between me and the enjoyments
of social life !

I had not neglected to send my parents an
account of the events of my life, withholding
only the most painful parts of my experience,
lest they should grieve immoderately for their
lost son. In answer to my first and second let-
ters, I received the following from my father.

Frampton Jan, 1st 1821.

Dear Son — I have just received, by one
post, both your letters^ sent from Coventry ;
and while I approve of your conduct in writing
me concerning your situation, I can but lament
your folly in leaving your place, of which I
knew nothing until I received your letter, and

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

Hi
i iff

your extreme rashness in entering upon a ca-
reer so humiliating as a soldier's life ; a life at-
tended with intolerable hardships, and what is
worse, with every species of profanity, lewd-
ness^ and wickedness. I hope you will remem-
ber to keep yourself clear of these pernicous
practices. You know by this time they are a
swearing set ; be sure you never join them in
this respect. ^' Sivear 7iot at ally You are
now beyond the reach of parental instruction,
or at least protection,and your situation,togeth-
er with the distance which does, and will sep-
arate us ; will, undoubtedly, create in future
very; serious anxiety for your welfare ; and I
hope your duty as a child on this point, will bo
respectfully regarded. I would sincerely ad-
vise you to he good and dutiful to your superiors;
submissive to all your officers, and respectful
in your deportment, so that I may hear from,
and see you again in peace.

Your affectionate father,

WILLIAM LIGHTON.

This letter from my father, paved the way
for a regular correspondence, while it removed
many fears from my mind, and gave me hopes
of better days.

Towards the spring of the year I suffered a
little from sickness, which originated in a cold,
taken one wet night while upon duty, and, al-
though its symptons were not very alarming, I
was conducted to the Hospital, where I was
examined, and retained to undergo a course of

LIFE OP \Y. IS, LIGHTON.

►on a ca-
a life at-
d what is
ity, lewd-
11 remem-
pernicous
ey are a
n them in
You are
struction,
)n,togeth-
l will sep-
in future
re ; and I
nt, will bo
merely ad-
supcriors;
respectful
ear from,

TON.

the way

removed

|me hopes

suffered a
in a cold,
L and, al-
arming, I
Ire I was
;ourse of

medicine. While I remained under medical
care, which was about twenty-one days, I un-
derwent more pain and suffering than I had
heretofore experienced. I was deprived of my
usual provisions, and received as a substitute,
a pint of gruel, or rice, with but very little of
any other article of consumption. Towards
the close of my sickness, I was supplied with
articles of food somewhat more substantial,
though in too small a quantity, properly to sup-
ply the wants of nature. While in this situa-
tion, I was visited by my comrade, who after a
few words of enquiry concerning my health,
presented me with a letter, which proved on
being opened, to be from my father, and con-
tained a small sum of money, a most accepta-
ble present in my situation, as it served to pro-
cure the means of alleviating my distress.

My health having recovered, I was permitted
to return to my duties in the garrison, which
was but of short continuance, as the time had
nearly arrived when we expected to sail for
head quarters in America. Already had or-
ders arrived for a detachment to be sent to the
second battalion of the corps, stationed at Hal-
ifax, N. S. Previous to the arrival of this or-
der we were called to witness scenes the most
heart-breaking and distressing. Many of the,
new recruits were married men, whose youth-
ful companions had voluntarily followed them,*

_j- II ^

* It will be observed, that the prime cause which led theM
unfortunate individtiaU to enlist into the Army^ was the ^n-
ttral distress then prf'vnient amon.^ t))9 lal)nriiig class. Such«
7

LIFK OK W. B. LIGHTON.

n ; '

! 1

".I I i
I'.'l .' :

,^!'!

1"! i

i;!!

) ;i!

iin

^ r

choosing rather to endure with their beloved
husbands, the rigors of a miHtary life than to
suffer a painful separation, when the command-
ing officers interfered, and ordered that all the
women above a specified number should be
forthwith returned to their native homes.

The day arrived when this order was rigor-
ously executed ; when the young and innocent
wife was torn from the beloved euibrace of her
youthful husband, amid sobs and tears the most
touching. Even now, methinks I hear the
shrill scream of the women, as with the deepest
agony of soul, they took the long, last, affecting
farewell. How wild the look of the parent as
with a countenance almost like distraction he
gazed upon his bloominj]^ oflspring, which he
loved as his own soul. He must now leave
them, not to be well provided for, and taken
care of, that would be some alleviation, but the
soldier can have no such hope, bis wife is poor,
her family poor, he leaves them then to extrfune
poverty and destitution. And the poor broken-
hearted mother, her case is worse, far worse !
She leaves her husband and in leaving him she
leaves her all on earth, her only stay in life.
And is she at ease ? Ah no ! The thought of
joys, forever gone, destroys her peace. She
retains a faint emblem of the father in her
child, which only serves to tell he is gone for-

indeed was the Hoantiness of labor, and the low wages, and the
Bufferings it occasioned that very many of the most respectable
of the poor, were from Imperious necespiiy driven to the army,
AS an assylnin to fi(;reen and save th(«n from threatened $tar-
vation.

<'-|

LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON.

• beloved
3 than to
ommand-
at all tho
hould be

ras rigor-
innocent
ce of her
; the most
hear the
e deepest
affecting
parent as
•action he
which he
ow leave
nd taken
n, but the
fe is poor,
\o cxtr^aiie
r brokeu-
[tr worse !
g him she
ay in life.
Ihought of
ice. She
ler in her
gone for-

Jrages,and the
1st respectable
\ to the army,
\aiened atar-

ever, or at least separated from her ; this is a
sorrow which serves to increase her woeSj

• find enila

In hiunun misery profound.

At last she hears that her protector has gone
the way of all the earth, and has left her child
destitute of every means of support, of every
thing calculated to sweeten the bitter cup of
life. Without friends or home these children
grow up, left to the tender mercies of a wicked
world ; they become common beggars, doomed
to suffer the miseries of an ignorant and wretch-
ed life ; and too often to end that life upon tho
gallows. With a faint description of these
evils before us, may we not pity that power
which has so far departed from its original ex-
cellence, as to be the cause of these glaring
evils. So void of benignity are its supporters
that they trample licentiously upon that class
of subjects, (the poor) from whom they derive
their principal support. Thus are merciless
tyrants usurping what never belonged to them;
and they are evidently determined to stifle eve-
ry sentiment of respect to a proper administra-
tion of the affairs of a suffering nation. O
England ! the clouds are gathering blackness
around thee ! Thy once exuberant brightness
is now tarnished, and methinks thy fate will
end in scenes worse than thy martyrdoms !
But may the Lo *d prevent this calamitous
event, and defend thy palaces with princes, and
thy courts with noblemen whose characters shall
be unblemished! Hoping the reader will pardon

••"

LIFK OF W. B. I.IGIITON.

i::i

• !

I' I
1^1 .1

this digression I proceed to offer a few more
remarks upon the circumstances I have but
faintly depicted.

The reader may have asked the question to
himself, was there no prospect that these horror
stricken husbands and wives being again uni-
ted ? To this it may be repUed not unless they
obtained their discharge, and that required a
sum they never would be able to pay, on ac-
count of their poverty. The attachment of
these men appeared to be of the strongest kind,
for some of them willfully maimed themselves
that they might be considered inifit for service.
An instance of this kind I will mention. A
young man as he was accompanying his wife
to Cowes to take his final leave of her, and ap-
parently under deep concern, requested leave
to step aside for a moment, which was granted,
when secreting himself beneath a stone bridge,
he resolutely cut his thumb from his hand with
a razor which he had prepared for the purpose,
and then throwing both into an adjoining field,
he joined the rest of his company. His situa-
tion being observed by the officer, he was im-
mediately arrested, and soon ader tried by a
court martial, and sentenced to be a pioneer in
the garrison for life. Thus were this unfortu-
nate couple, with many others, bereft of their
early enjoyments, and disappointed in their
fondest expectations, torn from each other by
ruthless tyrants, whose lender mercies were
cruelty. What must have been the feelings of
that young woman when she saw her husband

1 1

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

Dw more
lave but

estion to

le horror

;ain uni-

less they

quired a

on ac-

meni of

est kind,

jmselves

service.

tion. A

his wife

and ap-

;d leave

granted,

5 bridge,

and with

purpose,

ng field,

is situa-

was im-

ed by a

loneer in

unfortu-

of their

in their

)ther by

?s were

lings of

lusband

thus ^^xpose his life to gain his liberty and to bo
her friend, and then to hear of his consignment
to a painful and wearisome life. O, wretched
life, thought I, 'tis better to be dead than to
live ! And what may not such cruel, hard
hearted monsters expect from the hand of that
God who hath said in his holy word, " Whaty
therefore, God hath joined together y let not man
put asunder.^^ Matt. xix. 6.

Having now no alleviation from duty, I

reality a slave ; and the
for life, was almost more
The day at length arrived

thought myself in
thought that it was
than I could bear.

for our embarkation ; it was hailed with de-
light by many of us, as we imagined that our
trials would now be lessened, and that better
times would smile upon us. We were all
equipped with suitable apparel for the climate,
and by this means deeply involved in debt.
Early in the morning of our departure we took
an affectionate farewell of the associates we
were about to leave ; every soul exhibited emo-
tions of concern, and good feeling accompanied
with expressions intimating their wishes for our
future prosperity, while inhabitants of distant
climes. For my own part my thoughts revert-
ed to the scenes of home, its pleasures and as-
sociations, which made it an interestingly pain-
ful occasion. The hour arrived, and the beat-
ing of drums summoned us to order, when each
man securing his knapsack, hastened to the
parade ground, and after inspection we procee-
ded on our march to Cowes, accompanied part

,1, 1

S "

.1!

..-Hi

! *1

i 'i

|,:;i.

MFi: or \v. n. lk^iiton.

of tho wav l>v a hand of musio, to cheer with
its eiiHvoiiiiiix itinueaee our droDpiii*; spirits.
It was now that \ny nireclions vv(;ro severely
tried. Home liad. a <.'i)arin too stroni; to he
dispelled hy th(^ roUin<; ol" drums ; I was now
about to leave it forever, every spot we passed
seemed like somk? sj)ot di'ar to memory, and
spoke with a voi'.^e ol' I'irillint; inlerest to my
soul.

While waitiUjC!!; on iin' shor*^ for ht)ats to eon-
vey us to the s! ip, I emphiycd my time in
briniriuix to view ihe diversilied scenes through
which I had passed ; the lr«Mii)les 1 had endur-
ed, and t!ie home I had left. Such were my
emotions that 1 wouhi i'ain have kisstd the soil
on whlcl> 1 stood, and wIumi (he boat arrived, I
ftjlt reluctant to leave Mie never Ibri^otten shores
of Albion, and as I stepped hejivily into tho
boat, I oll'ered a silent prayer for the blessing
of heaven upon my friends and myself.

O ! iimst I a poor «'\ilo ever iiioiini ;
Nor i\i\vx li!it;tli ol' rolliiuj y«;:ir.s n'tiuil 1
Aii» I r.oinpollt'il (o I uvr my fri('iul« and lioino ;
To live no nion 'ncalli ttu^ anrcMtral doino 1
May Kind Iioav'n he our «;ni(lo — our »<tt'ps dt'fend,
And may Thy l)!»*ssin«j; crowi) ns to tho imhI.
.\t fifteen yetirs I h'avo hoih home and land
An iiii'ant Holdirr to obey *onunand.

Immediately after arrivin<i on board we wero
all sent below and hatt!h(Hl down, to prevent
disorder, or escape, and the next day, having a
fair wind, wo weighed anchor and set sail, May
22nd, \iV2\j and soon Ictl far behind us the
beautcou.^ and lovely scenes which every

r with
ipirits.
vcroly
r to be

IS HOW

pussed

Y, and

to my

:o cou-
iiuc ill
hrouj^h
LMidur-
crc my
ho soil
rived, I
I shores
nto tho
casing

lul,

Kit

It
'I

::i

i;n

'ii

s^tHi^

LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON.

where abound in that far famed Isle. Soon it
assumed the appearance of a shapeless mass,
interesting only from the consideration that it
was our native land.

England ! my home, thy scenes I love well ;
Home, where contentment and happiness dwell ;
Home, where my infantile weakness was nursed.
The place where my parents saluted me first ;
Though thy walls may be hid beyond the g^eat deep,
And the Atlantic billows between us do Fwcep ;
Thou'rt the home of my fathers — the place of my birth.
And more precious to me than the wealth of the earth.

Home, where domestic enjoyment abounds,
Home, where the pleasures of kindred are found.
Home, where a father instructed my youth.
And a mother's fund care taught me virtue and truth;
Where health strew M her roses and sorrow beguiled.
Where indnstr}' reigned, and where charity smiled;
When I think on thy charms, can I quell tlie big tear 1
Thou home of my fathers to memory dear.

Home, where religion her influence blends.
And the incense of prayer to Jehovah ascends ;
Where the hymn of devotion in rapture is sung,
And hopes of salvation on Jesus are hung.
On thee my thoughts centre — thy pleasures so pure:

1 ne'er can forget thee while life shall endure;
O may that allurement forever remain.

For there I first learned to speak Jesus's uame.

Home ! there's a magical spell in thy name.
Wherever I wander, thy scenes I retain ;

ne'er may the bliss that twines round thee depart,
Thou home of my fathers — thou joy of my heart !
Farewell \o the shores of my dear native home ;
Farewell, for I leave thee, perhaps ne'er to return.
With parents most dear, wlu/se tears cannot quell,

1 sighingly take the sad, painful Farewell !

The wind continued full in our favor, and
extending every sail to catch the friendly breeze,
we made rapid progress, which circumstance

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

', '(

lighted up every countenance with joy and
gladness, and tended much to dissipate the
melancholy of which we were the subjects.

But, man is inconsiderate and thoughtless ;
in the hour of prosperity he forgets the coming
dangers which tread close upon the heels of
safety. In his prosperous moments he is un-
mindful that his circumstances are changeable;
that there is a superior being who superintends
the concerns of his creatures, and who claims
their homage and worship. Hence, to show
us the instability of earthly things, God often
brings us to experience painful and opposing
providences, which are real mercies, as they
are sent to save us from greater evils, and to
promote our highest good.

But to return, after sailing thus,about a week,
we experienced a painful change ; the breeze,
hitherto obedient to our wishes,became adverse
and furious. The waves which had previously
playfully smacked jur vessel's side, now foam-
ing with rage, threatened distruction to our cra-
zy bark, and so furious was the storm that we
expected every hour to be sent to the bottom ;
the sea broke furiously over the deck, washing
and driving us from side to side. Amid these
gloomy hours of fearfulness and sorrow, I com-
posed myself as much as possible by praying
and singing hymns to him whose power alone
could calm " the raging seas." I always felt
disposed to be on deck when they would permit
me, watching the progress of the storm,or read-
ing the feelings of the crew by their physiog-

oy and
ate the
its.

;htless ;
coming
eels of
) is un-
geable;
intends
» claims
to show
d often
pposing
as they
and to

a week,
breeze,
adverse
viously
w foam-
our era-
hat we
)ottom ;
vashing
these

I com-
praying
alone
ays felt

permit
or read-
>hysiog-

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

nomy. For about two weeks, the storm con-
tinued, during which, we could only keep one
sheet to the wind, every other sail being close-
ly reefed. After the storm subsided we spoke
with several ships, which tended greatly to en-
liven our spirits. At length, after many storms
and dangers, we heard the welcome cry of
Land from the man at the mast head, which we
found by examination to be the American
coast. The wind was now fair, and both troops
and crew were anxious and impatient to enter
the river St. Lawrance, when unfortunately we
ran the ship aground. This sudden and un-
expected disaster occasioned much excitement
and tumult, as we were under the necessity of
unloading the ship or waiting the return of the
tide ; the latter appeared the most dangerous
course, and we adopted the former. It was
accordingly thought prudent to throw away our
water ; the pumps were immediately set to
work and our water disposed of, except a scan-
ty portion, to serve us till we gained the river.
After this was done, a boat with two anchors
was sent astern of the ship and sunk, and the
troops plying well at the winches,we succeeded
in getting her off* into deep water, suffering no
other loss but our water. We again suffered
from adverse winds, which kept us beating
about for several days, and had like to have
been productive of death, worse than drown-
ing, viz. death by thirst. Our water became
almost exhausted, and what remained was so
loathesome (it stank like carrion) it was obnox-

, J

TF! -t:

LIFE OF VV. B. LIGUTON.

ious to the taste, and our allowance, even of
this, was so scanty it was not enough to sustain
nature ; about one half pint per day being each
man's share. The great heat of the day served
to enhance our misery ; our tongues failed for
thirst, and we were ready to faint. Such was
my distress that I vainly strove to quench it
with sea water, but its insufferable saltness de-
terred me from making more than one trial,
and once I procured a portion from the hogs-
head by stealth, notwithstanding the orders of
the comm.iiidei and the scrutiny of the sentinel
placed Over it to protect it from the pilferings
of the tro ps, iv?<\ although it was disgusting to
the taste, yet, in my circumstances, it proved a
most refresing draught.

But before I proceed further I beg leave to
lay before the reader a means of preserving
water for any length of time, sweet and whole-
some. Families, as well as mariners, often
suffer much from water losing its sweetness, in
situations where they cannot enjoy the privilege
of drawing it immediately from the chrystal
spring, but have to secure it by means of cis-
terns, or otherwise, and as I shall have no bet-
ter opportunity to meution it, I shall do it here,
believing it to be of importance to some of my
fellow creatures.

" In order to keep fresh wateir sweet, take
of fine, clear, white, pearl ashes, a quarter of a
pound, of avoirdupois weight, and put it into
one hundred gallons of fresh water, (observing
this proportion to a greater or less quantity)

LIFK OF W. B. I.IGHTON.

(ven of
sustain
ig each
served
iled for
ich was
ench it
less de-
e trial,
3 hogs-
•ders of
sentinel
ilferings
isting to
)roved a

leave to
3serving
1 whole-
s, often
tness, in
)rivilege
chrystal
s of cis-
no bet-
it here,
ie of my

et, take
irter of a
Lit it into
b serving
:[uantity)

and stop up your cask as usual, till you have
occasion to broach it for use. As an instance
of its utility and success, Dr. Butler put an
ounce of pearl ashes into a twenty-five gallon
cask of Thames water, which he stopt up very
close, and let it stand for upwards of a year
and a half, opening it once in four months, and
constantly found it in the same unaltered con-
dition, and perfectly sweet and good.

To the mariner, the following receipt from
the same author may not be unacceptable. To
make sea water fresh, " take bees-wax and
mould it into the form of an empty, hollow ves-
sel ; sink the vessel into the sea, and the water,
after a while, will work its way through the
pores of the wax, and the quantity contained
in the vessel will be fresh, and good for use."

" But fresh water may be had in much great-
er plenty, and more expeditiously, by filling a
vessel with river sand, or gravel, and pouring
salt water upon it.* The vessel must be per-
forated at the bottom, and by applying a linen
strainer, the water, after undergoing a few fil-
trations, will lose all its brackish taste." Were
this plan generally adopted it sea, how much
misery occasioned by thirst might be avoided.

But to return ; we were now enveloped in a
dense fog, so thick that we could not see a rod
beyond the bows of the ship, and after sailing
several days in this situation, and having ar-
rived, though unknowingly, into the Gulf of St.

•The method pursued in this case is similar to that we pur-
•ue in leachirior ashes to obtain iev.
8

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

"■ s

Lawrence, one morning between the hours of
twelve and four, the Captain was aroused by a
tremendous grating as if the ship had come in
contact with some rocks ; lie rushed upon deck
in his shirt, and with a voice that thrilled every
heart, shouted, *' about, ship, or we are lost,^^
The command was sudden and unexpected ; a
momentary pause ensued, none dared move a
step till the Captain a second time reiterated
his order. The men seeing their danger, flew
each to his station, and aided by the troops of
the second watch, about sixty in number, soon
succeeded in bringing her about. It was then
discoverable that a few moments longer would
have hurried us upon a massive ledge of rocks,
where all must inevitably have perished. Prov-
idence, kind Providence, alone effected our
rescue, for had not the Captain awoke at that
precise moment, all must have been lost !

Turning from this scene of danger we felt
ourselves inspired with new courage, but were
soon alarmed again by a similar cause, which
circumstance induced us to cast anchor, and
wait for day. We might here notice the fact
that during all this alarm, two of the watches,
amounting to over a hundred men, were fast
asleep, below, ignorant of their danger, and
when the anchor was dropped, drawing after it
the huge chain cable, which made a report as
if the ship was smashing to pieces, it aroused
them from their peaceful slumbers in a moment,
and sent some in horrid confusion and nuddity
to the deck, screaming and crying for mercy,

LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON.

ours of
;cd by a
come in
on deck
id every
re lost.^^
cted ; a
move a
^iterated
er, flew
roops of
er, soon
,vas then
er would
>f rocks,
d. Prov-
cted our
c at that
t!

we felt
jut were
e, which
lor, and
the fact
watches,
were fast
ger, and
g after it
report as
aroused
moment,
i nuddity
)r mercy,

and it was sometime before they could be per-
suaded of their safety, so as to retire again to
their couches.

We remained at anchor till day light, when
we again weighed anchor, and gaily and rapid-
ly ascended the majestic St. Lawrence, from
whence we soon obtained refreshing draughts of
water. We soon hailed, and obtained a pilot,
but the wind changing and operating against
us, we could only progress when the tide was
ascending, laying at anchor when it receded,
during which seasons we were much enlivened
by the appearance of the country, and by the
converse of the passengers and crews of other
ships. I should have been glad could we have
seen more of the country as we passed it, when
on the sail, but such was the tyranny of our
officers, that we could not have this desirable
privilege allowed us, as we were much of the
time, hatched down in the ship's hold like con-
victs.

Before I proceed further, I will state an in-
stance wherein may be seen the cruel tyranny
and injustice of the commanding officer of the
troops on board. At one time on our passage I
had washed my clothes and hung them out on
the rigging, and in the night they were stolen.
In the morning, finding they were gone, I made
immediate inquiry, and found them in posses-
sion of one of the soldiers. I took the proper
measure to report him to the officer, to get sat-
isfaction in the restoration of my articles ; but
he, far from showing me justice, bid me " be

LIFE OF W. B. I.IGHTON.

li'i

goney and threatened "//la/ j/'/ie /lewrd another
word from me he would put me into confinement.^^
Thus, after the clearest identitication of my
property,! was silenced, slave likcy by a haughty
tyrant. How applicable md true the proverb
in this case. ** When subjects arc ill-treated by
subaltern ofRcers, and cannot make remon-
strance to the prince, because the too great au-
thority of the ministers of state deprives them
of the means; their lot is like that of a man,
who, half dead with thirst, approaches a river
to drink, but, perceiving a crocodile, is obliged
to perish for lack of water, or submit to be de~
vouredi"

But we soon arrived in full view of the city
of Quebec, where we had a pleasant sight of
its most elegant buildings and fortifications,
which sight produced the greatest animation,
from the consideration that vvc were near the
place of destination, wh^^rc we fondly hoped
that our troubles would at least be mitigated, if
they did not cease. My heart palpitated with
joy as I heard our salute fired from the can-
non on the battery ; soon after, we cast anchor
about half a mile from the shore in front of the
city. We were soon attc nded with boats which
came laded with provisions for the supply of our
wants, upon which we teaslcd like men who
had narrowly escaped starvation. It was seven
weeks from the time we \ei\ Cowcs, till we lan-
ded at Quebec. The day vafter our arrival,
another ship, containin<» two hundred troops,
arrived, which had made tlio voyage in four

Liri: or ^v. li. Li(iiiTo.\.

another
cment.^^
of my
laugbty
proverb
ated by
rcmon-
reat au-
Lis them
a mail,
a river
obliged
► be de-
he city
ight of
cations,
mation,
lear the
hoped
ated, if
ed with
le can-
anchor
t of the
s which
^ of our
n who
s seven
we Ian-
arrival,
troops,
in four

weekM only. The next day we were uU put on
board u steam boat, and taken to Montreal, in
possession of good health niuT spirits. The
officers of the regiment were waiting to board
us, immediately on our arrival at the wharf,
whoso manner towards us, was allable, and
kind : they congratuUUed us upon our arrival,
and witliout any nppear.'ince nf harshness, pa-
raded us onboard the steamboat, and marched
us up to tlie barracivs, wliere wv. were kindly
received by tiie old si>I(liers o( the regimciK^
who willingly dividi^d their provisions among
us, to meet our wants. We were all retained
in the barracks yard, until divided, and allotted
to the diderent companies during which time I
was visited by two Knglish ollicers, who ques-
tioned me closely, concerning my parentage,
history, &c. with evident symptoms of respect
for my youth, which probably, tiist excited their
curiosity. It was into their company that I was
drafted, at which I was not a little pleased.
We were, for a few days, treated with consid-
erable kindness and lenity, during which time,
many of us visited the ancient and antique
buildings of the city, which to my mind, pre-
sented but a poor contrast to the splendid cities
of England. I was not a little surprised, also,
at the appearance of the regiment : it was
made up of almost every nation upon earth ; in
fact, there were English, Irish, Scotch, French,
Germans, Portuguese, Spaniards, Italians, and
Dutch ; nn assemblage which made no very
pleasing impression upon my mind. Many of
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(716) 872-4503

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!):

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

them possessed the fierceness of Indian warri-
ors, but exhibited, in the whole, the diversified
peculiarities of the several nations to which
they belonged. Some bore about with them
the marks of distinguished zeal and piety ;
others were totally void of every feeling or sen-
timent, but that of superstition and vice ; and
had they been as active for God and religion,
as th^y were for vice and impiety, they would
have been good Christians ; while others seem-
ed to possess all the brutality and stupidity of
brutes Withal, I felt surprised that the Brit-
ish soldiers should so far imitate the semi-bar-
barians as to wear the beard long upon the up-
per lip, which was the case at that time, al-
though it was discontinued shortly after. Our
officers were mostly men of pliant dispositions,
and by nation, were English, Irish, Scotch,and
Germans ; our commanding officer. Colonel
Fitsgerald, was an Irishman by birth, a gentle-
man by education and property, and possessed
a disposition that rendered him beloved by eve-
ry soldier under his command. His lady was
a woman equally admired, possessing qualifi-
cations rarely discoverable in persons of her
rank; her influence was great, and her manners

E leasing ; from her sympathy and efforts in be-
alf of poor delinquents, she was emphatically
styled the '^ prisoner's advocate.^'

«i

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

CHAPTER III.

An account of hin trials and sufTeringii from the time he joined
his Regiment, to liis reprieve from death : containin^j 8om«
affecting occurrences.

By this time we were sufficiently rested to
commence our military duties, and each com-
pany was placed under the care of an experi-
enced sergeant, to be fitted by drill, as soon as
possible to relieve the old soldiers from their
extremely arduous and excessive toil. We
were accordingly taken to the fifeld, and kept
closely to our work, being allowed scarcely any
time for rest, or recreation. During this peri-
od of my life I often thought of home and pa-
rents, and indeed, I wrote, until receiving no
answers to any of my letters, my patience be-
came exhausted, and I ceased writing for a con-
siderable time.

In connection with our fatiguing drill, which
was so irksome that we were glad to retire to
bed as soon as the hour arrived, was the evil
we experienced from being tormented half to
death with bed bugs, which would come upon
us in swarms, and bite us so severely in our
sleeping hours, that we could not rest. My
method in revenging myself upon these crea-
tures, was this : after I had retired to bed, to
net a light near by, where I could readily grasp
it, but hiding it so as to have no light discover-
able, I would lay down my head, when, no

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

sooner done than they perceiving an opportuni-
ty to fall upon their prey, would surround my
head and neck in multitudes. Provoked at
their invasion, I would spring for my light and
destroy all I could as they retired to their re-
treat. But as this method had but little effect,
other than that it produced an unaccountable
stench, I next took my bed, and making it up,
on the floor of the room, made a trench of water
round it that might prevent their approach.
But though this was successful, they were not
defeated ; but still made their ravages by falling
down upon me from the floor of the upper room,
so that in fact, my case was not in the least
ameliorated ; in consequence of which, I was
obliged to submit, without a remedy, to these
unmerciful tormenters. And many of the sol-
diers, from the same cause slept out in the bar-
racks yard, in the open air, but its effect was
evidently more injurious than the torment of
bed bugs.

We were oflen called to witness the punish-
ment of criminals, who, for crimes of different
grades were brought forward to receive merited
punishment. On these occasions, our humane
Colonel would turn aside his head and weep,
and would generally remit the greatest portion
of the unhappy man's punishment ; and, had it
not been for the existing law, he would have
dispensed, in his regiment, with that kind of
punishment entirely.

It was our misfortune shortly to lose this hu-
mane and valuable oflficer, he being appointed

LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON.

tuni-
i my
d at
t and
• re-
ffect,
itable
t up,
water
oach.
•e not
ailing
room,
least
I was
these
le sol-
e bar-
t was
ent of

unish-
Terent
lerited
amane
weep,
)ortion
had it
have
ind of

lis hu-
)oiated

to a higher station. He was succeeded by a
Colonel Andrews, a Scotchman, and of a dis-
position precisely different from his predeces-
sor in every respect ; and his conduct, when
he assumed the command, seemed as if he had
determined to ruin the confidence, and destroy
the happiness of the regiment. He commen-
ced by driving the troops, both old and young,
into the field for exercise, a measure entirely
useless, and highly offensive to the old troops,
as they had not been used for many years, to
such treatment. They grumbled and complain-
ed loudly, at being thus hammered and drilled
about, in the fundamental principles of their
duty which they all perfectly understood. The
harshness of our new Colonel, and the severe
punishments he inflicted for minor and trivial
offences, caused many of the soldiers to de-
sert ; some of whom were unfortunate enough
to be taken prisoners. They were tried by
court martials, and sentenced to seven hundred
lashes : such spectacles, as we have already
hinted, were cruel and savage in the extreme.

-The poor condemned soldiers.

Like culprits doomed to cruel torture.
Would sit impatient, and inly ruminate
The morning's danger; and their gestures sad.
Investing pallid cheeks, and sunken hearts.
Presenting then} unto the gazing throng
Like so many horrid ghosts.

But, as I design to be more particular in
giving an account of the punishment, a scene
of which I was an eye witness, while among
them, I shall give it here, without attempting

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

|l i

to affect any thing from what it is in reality,
and what every one knows, who has been ac-
quainted with the British military character.

Whenever a soldier was found guilty of a
crime, and condemned to receive corporeal
punishment, he was confined under guard, till
the morning specified in his court martial,when
he should receive his punishment. The troops
were then formed into a square of two deep,
and the ^* triangle,'''^ an instrument made for
the purpose, was brought and placed, composed
of three poles, with a bolt to fasten them to-
gether at the upper end, and spread wide en-
ough to fasten the prisoners legs and hands to
two of them : this, with a board that run across
to each pole for the prisoner to bear his breast
upon, completed the barbarous instrument.
Next, the poor criminal, guarded by a file of
soldiers and an ofliicer, is conducted to the tri-
angle, where they remain until the adjutant
reads his court martial and sentence. After
which, the commanding ofliicer gives the word
" proceed to punishment," when the criminal
is stript to his naked back, and tied firmly with
cords round his ancles and wrists, to the two
spars of the triangle ; thus, in a forward, lean-
ing posture, he is stretched, ready to receive
the application of the whip. The company of
musicians, with the drum or bugle-major, take
their stand in single file in rear of the prisoner,
as also the surgeon of the regiment, who is
there to watch the symptoms of the sufferer,
and to relieve him if he thinks he is not able to

ality,

in ac-

;er.

1 of a

joreal

-d, till

jwhen

troops
deep,

de for

iposed

Bm to-

de en-

inds to
across
breast

ument.
file of

the tri-
djutant
After
word
riminal
ly with
he two
d, lean-
receive
)any of
, take
risoner,
who is
mfferer,
able to

' I

LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON.

t s.

endure his punishment. The bugle-major then
orders the first musician next to him to take his
stand at the post of duty, which he does within
about one pace of the criminal ; and thus, with
a cat of nine tails in his hand, proceeds, and
inflicts the cat at every time the bugle-major
counts, which is about once in every four sec-
onds. Thus commences this painful scene. At
the end of every twenty-five lashes the execu-
tioner is relieved by a fresh hand who is bound
to inflict the lacerating lash with all his might.
The following is a description of the whip, or
cat of nine tails, and the manner in which it is
used. The cat itself is composed of nine sep-
arate and distinct cords, between an eighth and
a quarter of an inch in size, twisted very hard,
and having on each strand, three nots, tied at
regular distance, near the end ; sometimes
these have been fixed with wire, to make the
punishment more severe and excrutiating. The
length of these cats are about eighteen inches
from the stock, and the stock itself, about fif^
teen inches long. The manner in which it is
compelled to be used, is indeed the most sur-
prising, and inhuman. ^ The executioner, as he
stands, raises his body with a nervous exertion,
applies his whip with all his strength, then with
a singular whirl, brings it again to his right,
ready for the second application. And, in case
the executioner should be remiss in his duty,
the bugle-major alarms him of it, by flogging
him on the shoulder with a whip. It will be
observed that all the while the executioners are
9

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

! ■

obliged to be stript in their shirt sleeves : this
needs no comment !

The effect this kind of punishment had upon
its piteous sufferers, is almost too appalling to
mention. The first blow usually called forth
his groans. The first twenty-five lashes gen-
erally fetched blood ; the first hundred would
tear the fiesh almost to pieces, and before he
had received the whole of his punishment the
blood would run copiously down his back, run-
ning in streams into his shoes, and flooding the
ground. In this distressed situation, with his
back mangled as if ravinous dogs had fed upon
it, the poor culprit would beg for mercy, but in
vain ; sometimes he would fill the unconscious
air with his piteous groans and bowlings, and
beg for the remission of half the sentence, ex-
claiming, like Cain, "mi/ punishincnt is greater
than I can 'oear^ But no ; the cruel appetite
of the Colonel must be glutted to its full ; he
would stand unmoved at the painful and bloody
spectacle, and sometimes, biting his lips (one
of his peculiarities) would walk in front of the
troops, as unconcerned as if the scene before
him was one of the most pleasing nature. But
not so with the soldiers, for their hearts were
touched with compassion, and many of them
fainted, and fell to the ground ; and others
turned their heads from beholding the inhuman
spectacle. These punishments were always
attended within the walls of the barracks-yard,
and every entrance to the streets, closed, to
prevent the inhabitants from coming in, or oth-

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

: this

upon
ing to

forth
s gen-
would
jre he
jnt the
i, Tun-
ing the
ath his
d upon
, but in
Qscious
and
, ex-
grealer
ippetite

nil ; he

bloody

ps (one

of the

before

. But

s were

)f them

others
nhuman

always
ss-yard,
osed, to

or oth-

5S.
ice

erwise to prevent them from a knowledge of
what was transpiring. And, indeed, well they
might seclude their diabolical and hellish deed;
for it was too barbarous for humanity to look
upon and not weep. It was a punishment as
bitter as death ! — a punishment which the hea-
then savages in comparison with civilized Eng-
land, would shudder to inflict upon their vilest
enemy. After the execution, a wet cloth was
thrown on the back of the prisoner and he was
conveyed to the hospital, more dead than alive,
to be cured ; which would take from a month
to six weeks, if he ever recovered at all.

Such indeed has been the horrid effect of this
punishment, that many have been known to die
in receiving it, and others have had their flesh
whipped off, so that their bowels have fallen
out. What brutality is this for man to be guilty
of ! Surely, it is abominable and devilish in the
extreme. It has not its parallel but among
the savage nations of the earth ! O England !
my country, can this be thy crime ? Are my
countrymen so destitute of humanity, as to be
deservedly ranked among the savages of the
forests ? May God forbid it, and the holy re-
ligion you profess to love ! Banish this evil ;
banish it, I say, from thy land, that thy cruelty
and thy crimes may not be in such black array
against thee ! Before I dispense with this sub-
ject, I will give the note at large, of the cele-
brated writer, Doctor Clarke, that the reader
may judge, and receive more credibly, the
above, from what he writes upon this subject.

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

Those who possess his commentary may find it
in Deut. xxv. 3. "For/w stripes ye may give
him, and NOT EXCEED. '» "According,"
says the Doctor, "to God's institution, a crim-
inal may receive forty stripes : not one more !
But is the institution from above or not, that for
any offence, sentences a man to receive three
hundred, yea, a thousand stripes ? What hor-
rible brutality is this ! and what a reproach to
human nature, and to the nation, in which such
shocking barbarities are exercised and tolera-
ted ! Most of the inhabitants of Great Britain
have heard of Lord Macartney"^ s Embassy to the
Emperor of China ; and they have heard, also,
of its complete failure ! But they have not
heard of the cause. It appears to have been
partly occasioned by the following circumstance.
A soldier had been convicted of some petty
traffic with one of the natives, and he was sen-
tenced, by a court martial, to receive sixty
lashes ! — Hear my author : "The soldiers
were drawn up in form,in the outer court of the
palace, where he resided, and the poor culprit
being fastened to one of the pillars of the great
portico, received his punishment without miti-
gation. The abhorrence excited in the breasts
of the Chinese, at this cruel conduct, as it ap-
peared to them, was demonstrably proved by
their words and looks. They expressed their
astonishment that a people professing the mild-
est, the most benevolent religion on earth, as
they wished to have it believed, could be guilty
of such flagrant inattention to its merciful die-

LlFi: or W. R. LIGHTON,

ind it

f ^'^^
ling,"
crim-
nore !
lat for

three
it hor-
ach to
1 such
tolera-
Sritain
/ to the
1, also,
^e not
3 been
stance.
I petty
IS sen-
e sixty
oldiers
; of the

culprit
3 great
it miti-

)reasts
it ap-

ved by
their
mild-

irth, as
guilty

ul dic-

tates. One of tlio principal mandarins, who
knew a little ICnglish, expressed the general
sentiment, ^^EngUshmcn too muck cruel, too
much bad.'''*

But the ill-timed severity of the Colonel,had a
bad and injurious effect ; for while he kept us at
exercise continually, sometimes driving us to the
field before the approach of day, and punishing
severely, the minor offences of the men, the
troops deserted at every opportunity; to prevent
this, he confined us all to the barracks, for sev-
eral weeks, whereupon, many swore they would
desert immediately after they should be liberated,
and accordingly, in a short period, we lost, by de-
sertion, upwards of a hundred men. This enra-
ged the Colonel to the highest pitch of madness ;
and one day, after parade, he formed us into a
close body,and addressed us in the most provok-
ing language, calling us — rogues and traitors,
and threatening us with the utmost severity, if
we dared to disobey his orders. On one occa-
sion, I was so unfortunate as to fall beneath his
displeasure. One day exercising on the parade,
the Colonel commanding by means of the bu-
gle, he gave the word, "disperse and fire,"
which was obeyed with alacrity and speed,
when the bugle again sounded, " assemble, and
form ranks in double quick ;" we were all full
of glee upon the occasion, being surrounded
by spectators, when I was noticed to be in the
rear, by the adjutant, who struck me with his
sword, and took down my name ; whereupon,
I told him the reason, which was, that in a skir-
9*

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

mish, Q soldier accidentally trod upon my heel,
and tore off the sole of my shoe and so hinder-
ed me from running ; but he answered me with
an oath, pushed me into the ranks, and told me
I should be punished. The next day I was or-
dered, with a number of others, to knapsack
drill, which consisted in our being made to ap-
pear upon the parade ground, in iull marching
order, with our packs upon our backs, and in
this situation, we were marched, and counter-
marched, until our strength and patience be-
came exhausted ; insomuch, that regardless
of the consequence, we ventured to disobey the
orders of our commanding oilicer. Hence
when he gave the word, " nght, or left iurn,^^
we would march off in different directions, un-
til he became so exasperated, that he threaten-
ed to put us under guard, which threat creating
in us a fear of a worse punishment, induced us
to submit quietly, to the remainder of our pun-
ishment ; thus out of two evils choosing the
least.

The precautions of the officers to prevent
desertions, were such, that it was now next to
impossible to desert, unless possessed of some
means of conveyance. We had to answer the
roll call at least, four times a day, when, if it
was discovered, any soldier was missing, prep-
arations were immediately made for his discov-
ery and detection : which, indeed, rendered it
difficult to be absent long at a time, without
incurring suspicion and punishment. But so
unpleasant was our situation, that numbers^

LIFE OP W. B. LIGRTON.

risking all danger, still deserted, of whoni, some
escaped ; and others were detected. Among
the latter, was a young Englishman, named
Arnold, who was sentenced to receive seven
hundred lashes. While preparing to be fasten-
ed to the triangle, he placed a leaden ball be-*
tween his teeth, and declared he would not so-
licit any remission of his punishment, from the
Colonel, and he maintained his word, receiving
the whole of the seven hundred lashes, without
uttering an expression, and actually at the close
of it, put on his clothes without assistance,
thanking them in a low manner for his break-
fast, after which, he turned round and ran out
of the square, heedless of all authority, but the
Colonel, dissatisfied at his conduct, called him
back, and commanded him to march out more
orderly. I beg leave further to remark that the
ground where the sufferer stooJ, was sprinkled
with blood by the whip which was itself bathed
in gore, so much that the blood would drop off
the end of the cats. Bui this is not the worst,
for when the whip is thus soaked, reeking in
gore, it is either washed in water, oi a fresh one
taken in its place. Intolerable tyranny ! unsuf-
ferable brutality ! /

In the ensuing spring, the same unfortunate
individual made another attempt at desertion.
He lefl his post while on guard, in company
with a young man named Dackenhousen, a
German, who was the pride of the regiment ;
but they failed in making their escape, on ac-
count of the treachery of an individual in whose

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

barn they had taken refuge. The individual
in question having discovered their hiding place,
promised '-ecrecy, but rruelly gave information
to the officers, who rewarded his treachery with
thirty dollars. A guard was accordingly sent
for their apprehension, who soon returned with
their victims. Arnold was chained to a heavy
ball^ and confined, and his case laid before His
Majesty at home, who sentenced him to trans-
portation for life. Dackcnhouscn was confined
in order to await his tiial for desertion, but
fearful of the punishment that awaited him, one
night, while the guard were all asleep, except
the sentinels, he arose, passed the first sentinel,
threw open the guard room door, rushed out
into the barracks yard, passed another sentinel
at the gate, and escaped. Thus he passed two
soldiers, who were at their posts with drawn
swords, and opened two gates, before the alarm
could be given. The young soldier at the door
of the guard house, afterwards stated, that al-
though he was perfectly aware of the case, yet
he felt as if, at the moment, he was deprived of
all power to speak or act. When the morning
arrived a number of detachments were sent in
pursuit, with loaded rifles, and orders to take
him dead or alive. Aller several days search,
they returned without their prey, who escap-
ed safely to the United States, from whence he
wrote back to his comrades, inviting them all
to follow him, and had it not been for the fear
of detection, I verily believe the whole regi-
ment would have accepted the Invitation.

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTOn.

For my own part, I heartily wished myself
free from so slavish a life, though I could not
at once resolve upon my liberation, the scenes
of punishment, of which I had been witness,
were vividly impressed upon my imagination,
and I would have preferred death to enduring
it. Sometimes I strove to resign myself pa-
tiently to my fate ; but the reflection that my
woes would terminate only with my life, pre-
vented such a feeling of resignation ; and what
tended to increase my dissatisfaction, was the
fact that the regiment I belonged to, was for
some cause or other, a transported corps. The
thought that I was incorporated with a con-
demned regiment, slung me to the quick, espe-
cially as I saw no prospect of again seeing my
dear parents, so long as the corps remained un-
der the displeasure of His Majesty ; and should
che aspect of things change for the better, I
knew my life, at best, would be miserable.

To add to my uneasiness, I obtained no com*
munications from home, although I wrote again
and again ; this led to the conclusion, that my
parents indignant at my past disobedience, had
resolved to leave me to my fate,and never again
manifest any concern for my welfare. My
mental conflicts, from these united causes, bo*
came almost insupportable ; which, together
with my insufferable hardships, almost drove me
into the vortex of dissipation, which the insid*
ious tempter of man, secretly intimated, would
afford me relief, or at least a mitigation of m^
sorrows. But, by the blessing of God I wav

iMirlH

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

saved from this horrible course, and my mind
directed to the great author of all, for support
and succor, and often have I in the darkness of
night, knelt in my bed, and poured out my com-
plaint to the Lord of creation. But I was, as
it were, a heathen, knowing little else of divine
things but the form.

To divert my mind as much as possible, I de-
voted my leisure time to literary pursuits, at-
tending school part of that time, and studying
drawing and music the rest. In these pursuits
I was assisted by my comrade, Henry Apple, a
German, in the middle age of life, and of no
o, Hnary talents. His regard for me was strong
and ardent ; his advice that of a father ; indeed
he delighted to speak of me as his son. To
him, I related my parentage, travels, &c., upon
which he counselled me to desert the first op-
portunity, alledging that if I remained in the
army, 1 could expect nothing but misery and
poverty all my days ; indeed, we should have
deserted together, had it not been that the time
for which he enlisted was nearly expired.

But notwithstanding his advice, I endured
my troubles some time longer, hoping to be
able to purchase my discharge. To obtain it
by money, required twenty pounds sterling,
while my pay amounted to but one shilling and
one pence per day, out of which I had to pur-
chase several articles of wearing apparel, as
also of consumption. To further my design, I
gave up my allowance of grog, prefering to
receive its value in money. But with all my

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

mind
upport
ess of
y com-
iras, as
divine

5, 1 de-
its, at-
udying
ursuits
pple, a

of no

strong

indeed

1. To

, upon
rst op-
in the
and
have
le time

ndured
to be
tain it
erling,
ng and
to pur-
irel, as
sign, I
ing to
all mv

efforts I could save but six shillings per month,
at which rate, it would have taken six years,
nearly, to accomplish my aim. But I soon
found that such a strict course of living would
debar me of the means of attending to my lit-
erary pursuits, and to spare a pittance for them,I
saw that it would require eleven or twelve years
to put me in possession of the required sum, as
also that it was involved with events the most
difficult to be surmounted, and accordingly, I
laid aside my plan as impracticable.

My next aim was to procure admission into
the band of musicians, thinking that my situa-
tion would be more comfortable. I according-
ly persevered in my musical studies, hoping to
attract the attention of the officers, when I was
sent for by Capt. Pierce, an officer of the com-
pany, to act as his servant, a situation which
seemed to promise an amelioration of my troub-
les. But I soon found, that let me be placed
where I would, I had to lead a contemptible
and miserable soldier's life. My situation was
rendered very unpleasant on account of many
very arduous tasks assigned me ; as also from
being broke of my rest ; for I had generally to
await the return of my master from his mid-
night revels,who would in turn have much com-
pany, and that painfully disgusting, for they
would gamble and carouse like bedlamites, as if
totally regardless of a state of future retribu-
tion. The Captain possessed a taste that led
him to Sparc no pains nor expense to obtain any
pleasure he delighted in. He required a strict

100

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

!! !

attention to be paid to all his injunctions, which
I obeyed with promptitude and despatch, in ev-
ery respect, if 1 except that I made but an in-
different cook. However, as he messed in com-
mon with the other officers, I had but little to do
in this respect but to prepare his breakfast reg-
ularly, and occasionally, supper for his guests.
One day he gave me directions for cooking a
beePs tongue, which was to answer for hia
breakfast the next morning. I accordingly fol-
lowed his orders, but unluckily, after it was
put into the oven, from some cause or other, I
forgot it until the next morning, when, painful
to relate, it was baked almost to a cinder, on
account of the large fire kept in the stove dur-
ing the night. Afraid of exciting his anger by
not placing it upon the table, I cut off all the
burnt part, until it was so diminished in size
that I felt ashamed to behold it. However,
with much fear and anxiety, I placed it on the
table, and then retired to wait the motions of
its astonished and disappointed consumer, who
eyed it with apparent solicitude, as if to dis-
cover the nature of the unshapely dish I had
placed before him. He then applied to me for
an account of the article, and such were my
fears, that I gave but a disconnected and unsat-
isfactory detail of my act of harsh cooking ;
seeing my confusion, and the sorrow it occa-
sioned, he passed it over with a gentle repri-
mand.

On another occasion, I met with a misfortune
somewhat similar. We expected a large com-

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

101

hich
lev-
1 in-
com-
to do

reg-
iiests.
ing a
►r his
ly fol-
t was
her, I
)ainrul
ler, on
e dur-
ger by
lall the
In size
wever,
on the
ions of

r, who

dis-

1 had
me for

ere my
1 unsat-
oohing ;
it occa-
repri-

sfortune
re com-

pany of guests to supper, for whose entertain-
ment the messmaster prepared a sumptuous re-
past. The hour arrived, when my helpmate
and I spread the rich bounties provided for the
occasion ; among many other things was two
richly dressed fowls,which served greatly to or-
nament the table. We happened to be both ab-
sent for a moment, and upon returning, discov-
ered that one of the fowls was missing. We
were much surprised, and gazed on each other
with much concern, wondering by whom, and
how in so short a time it could have been re-
moved. Upon clos e examination it appeared
to have been dragged off the table, and upon
looking under the stove, we found it in posses-
sion of a huge cat, who was very deliberately
making a supper of the mutilated fowl, which
we soon rescued from her paws, and in no very
gentle manner, bade her finish her supper else-
where. Fearing to throw it away, and thus
incur censure, and perhaps punishment, we
were driven to the alternative of cleaning and
placing it on the table, in the best manner pos-
sible, taking care to press well together every
part that was injured. Fortunately for us they
were not touched, and thus the affair passed
off undiscovered. I do not state these facts as
if in themselves they are worthy of notice, but
merely to illustrate the effects produced by
harsh, despotic treatment, and that slavish fear
which is its legitimate result ; a fear which is
evidence direct of the depraved condition of
man, for were he upwright, it neither would be
10

102

LIFK OF W. B. LIGIITON.

1} \

exacted or yielded. Wherever it exists it
cramps the energies, paralyzes the powers of
the soul, and blasts the principles of peace and
liberty ; and yet, strange infatuation ! men of-
ten mistake it, I mean when applied to their
Creator,for that filial fear required by Him from
His creatures, and imagine that dread, horror,
and trembling at the thought of his sacred
name, constitutes the duty of man. How can
these things be ? How can we love that which
we imagine militates against our joys, and
threatens to crush us to dust ? Can such be
the duty inculcated in the inspired writings ?
Let the reader consult on this point, Heb. xii.
28, Eccl. xii. 13, Prov. iii. 7, and viii. xiii,and
ix. 10, Ps. cxi. 10, Cor. vii. 1, &c. &c.

Circumstances like the above, tended to keep
my mind in a continued state of unhappy ex-
citement and slavish fear ; and although I la-
bored with the utmost diligence to obey the
commands of my master, their rigidity were by
no means relaxed, nor his aristocratic haughti-
ness diminished. Added to this, I received no
compensation for my services besides my pay
and rations as a soldier, which I received from
the barracks, so that my present situation was
in reality no way superior to the former. In
my present condition, I saw little probability
of escaping from their cruel bondage, and re-
flecting upon my past delightful enjoyments,
and anxious to get iree from the slavery of tyr-
annical oppressors,that I might again enjoy the
endearing comforts of a social and peaceful

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

103

its it
rs of
3 and
;nof-

their

from
orror,
acred
N can
Mrhich
y and
ch be
ings ?
b. xii.
iii,and

okeep
U ex-
I la-
the
ere by
ughti-
ved no
pay
from
on was
jr. In
)ability
and re-
ments,
oftyr-
ijoy the
eaceful

life, and become useful to myself and friends,
I could no longer resist the impetuous force of
my feelings ; but resolved forthwith to make my
escape.

The season of the year, (it was the month of
February) and the vast amount of travel to the
United States, conspired to raise my hopes,and
cheer me with the prospect of obtaining a con-
veyance by some one of the numerous car-
riages engaged in the pursuits of commerce.
Upon afler consideration, however, I judged it
best not to trust my fate in the hands of any
man, especially as it required a generosity not
likely to be found among those persons to whom
I allude.

About this time my comrade, Henry Apple,
received his discharge ; which fact but increas-
ed my disaffection, inflamed my desires, and
produced a stronger resolution to attempt my
escape as soon as possible. Before I proceed
Co relate the means I resorted to, I will just
observe, that while nothing could justify me in
their adoption, an excuse can be found in my
youth, inexperience y and misery ; for I feel con-
fident, that had not my sufferings been extreme,
I never should have been persuaded to adopt a
course so criminal. But, to proceed : my plan
was to provide myself with the dress of a civill
ian from the Captain's wardrobe, and with a
horse belonging to a Lieut. Colonel Rumpley,
who resided under the same roof with the Cap-
tain ; and whose horse was the only one I
could have access to^ of the two officers, and

104

LIFE OF W. B. LIGUTON.

r t

l! l!

which I intended, should I effect my escape, to
leave at some convenient place near the Amer-
ican line, and inform the Colonel by letter,
where he might find him."^ In taking this course,
which in fact was the only one I could in safety
adopt, I was in pressing need of money to de-
fray my expenses ; and not being able to de-
mand any of my pay in consequence of being
obliged to buy several articles of winter cloth-
ing, by which I was deeply involved in debt,
and fearing my entire destitution would expose
me to the suspicion of those men among whom
I travelled, I resolved to purloin a sum from
one of the officers sufficient to meet the wants
my peculiar situation demanded. I intended
also to arm myself with a loaded pistol^ being

* The example of many of my fellow soldiers who had adop-
ted similar measures to effect their liberty, and who had escap-
ed detection, was a powerful stimulous to urge me on to my un-
dertaking ; and, indeed, I may say it was through the success
of tlieir attempts, that I received encouragement, and was led
to do as I did. One circumstance I will here mention. Two
of my comrades, who were great intimates together, and who
were botli officers* servants, became po dissatisfied witk a fol-
dier*0 life tliat they resolved to make tlieir escape in company
with each other, when the first opix>rtnnity should present.
When the night came Uiat gave them the desired opportunity,
one X)f them, dressed himself in an officer's full uniform, be-
longing to tlie one with whom he was living; took also his com-
miMion, in order tlint they might eiwape with greater safety.
His companion drecsed hims#lf in a s(;rvants habit, and attended
btm in tliat capacity ; after thus preparing themselves Uiey
took a horse and sleigh and proceeded with all possible haste ;
alleging, where tlu>y had occasion to slop, that they were in
punuit of deserters. Tims they both mude their succesfiil
Mcspe.

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

105

determined, in case I should be overtaken by
pursuers, not to be taken alive.^

The day at length arrived when I was to ex-
ecute my project, which, if successful, was to
free me from my troubles, and confer upon me
the blessinffs of liberty ; but if detected would
plunge me into a worse situation, and a deeper
misery. Early in the evening the Captain and
Colonel R. went in company to partake of the
pleasures of a splendid ball, and having waited
until the tattoo sounded, which called every
soldier to the barracks, I began to make prep-
aration for my exit. After carrying my plan
into effect, so far as to encourage me with suc-
cess, and while in the very act of making the
most important preparations, I was suddenly
interrupted by Colonel R's. servant, who com-
ing near to me, spoke to me as if he suspected
my design. But fearing I should take the
alarm, he coaxingly requested me to go with
him into the servant's room, where no doubt he
meant to have secured me, as another servant
was there who would probably have readily as-
sisted him to detect me. But knowing he must
have discovered my design, and fearing he was
only laying a trap to catch me, I made him an
indifferent reply ; but promised him I would

* I pkced all mv hopes of deliverance upon my horse and a
Hngle piitol ; which latter I intended to have well loaded
with ballff, and not to be taken without firinff through the first
man that should attempt to apprehend me. I should have pro<
vided myself with anotlier pistol, but for fear of exciting suspi-
cion of my design I was obliged to desist.
10*

.4^3

<mmm

106

LIFK or \V. IJ. LK^UTON.

return in a few minutes. Upon thin, \vc parted,
and b/ watching the movements of the servant,
I was fearfully alarmed of the fact that he was
going, with all haste, to report me as a deserter.
•^10 indeed, was the decisive moment ; mid 1
felt it ; and although I had not accomplished
my purpose of changing clothes from the ward-
robe, nor secured an outer garment.* I sprung
out of the house into the stable^ saddled the
horse, mounted him, and galloping upon the
full speed, 1 passed in fi out of the barracks by
the guard, the sentinels of which were on their
posts, and in a few moments, left my master
and the troops, far in the rear. Soon, however,
I began to feel the effects of the cold ; even
before I had crossed the St. Lawre-.icc, which
distance was about nine miles on the ice, I
thought I should have perished ; my dress be-
ing altogether imfit for my circumstances, being
composed of a pair of woolen regimental pau-
taloons, woolen vest, a light fustian jacket, hat,
and a light pair of calfskin shoes. My suiTei-
ings increased beyond description ; I became
chilled almost to death, and those parts of my
body most exposed, became frozen and stiff in
spite of all my exertions. Sometimes I would

* Notwithstanding I had not accomplished my design, yet I
Iiad carried my plan too far to be desisted from 1 had evi'
dently given the most deci^sive proof of my intention. To have
remained without making any turiher exertion would soon have
brought mc into confinement, and to the dreadful torture of tlie
whip, or some other severe punishment. Therefore, widiout
the least hesitancy, I resolved to try my escape forthwith, per-
chance I might succeed in gaining my liberty from a life of
such insufferable tyranny !

iricd,
vant,
3 was
crtcr.
and 1
lisheil
ward-
prung
A the
>n the
^>ks by
1 their
uaster
A' ever,
, even
which
ice, I
?ss be-
, being
1 p un-
it, hat,
suiTci-
ecame
of iny
titr ill
would

Lii, yet I

Tliad evi-

ITo havii

loon hiivo

re of tlie

without

[ith, per-

a life of

■MiiMBBMSiHapMlBlil

'.'t

l-.l

(:'

'. :

LIFE OB' W. B- LIGHTOrr.

107

put my hands (for I had no mittens) between
the saddle and the horse's back, and my feet
close to his sides ; at other times I took to my
feet and run ; but all was in vain. I actually
thought I should freeze to death : my hands^
feet, and ears were past all feeling, and not-
withstanding I thrashed and rubbed the affect-
ed parts, they still grew worse, and worse, and
glad indeed, should I have been to have taken
shelter for the night ; but so great was my fear
of detection, that I dared not hazard myself by
requesting hospitality. At length I lost my
way, and coming to a house, through the win-
dow of which I discovered a brisk fire, which
to me, was a sight peculiarly grateful, I stop-
ped my horse, to consult with myself, with re-
gard to the propriety of going in to warm me,
and secure some kind of an outer garment, as I
was entirely destitute ; at the same time, I
eyed sharply the inside of the cottage, through
the window, as I stood close to it, to see if all
was peaceful and quiet, which I found to be so;
upon which, I saluted it with a loud halloo, at
the same time putting my horse in a position
ready for a gallop, should I see any cause for ex-
citement; when,observing two men approach the
door, dressed in their daily habit, and to all ap-
pearance, armed with muskets, my fears became
alarmed, and without delaying one moment, I
rode off immediately upon the full speed.'*

* I remark that my feara were not excited from any thoughts
of pursuers, but the fact that the men might be some of those
unfeeling characters, who were constantly upon the bokout for
deserters .

iMMWMi*

108

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

.'ii

filled with

and fear.

was now niied witn excitement, ana tear, in
consequence of which, I rode my horse hard,
until with fatigue and fasting, (for he had noth-
ing to eat all night) he became so jaded that it
was with much difficulty I could force him out
of a walk. At length day-light appeared and
ended the most painful night I ever experien-
ced, before or since . Meeting with an individ-
ual, I interrogated him as to the place in which
we were ; when he informed me I was forty
miles from Montreal, and about an equal dis-
tance from the borders of the United States.
The assurance that I was so far from the Regi-
ment, and in a bye-way too, encouraged me to
inquire for refreshment, for I felt in much need
of it : and indeed, had I not submitted to put up
some where, I verily believe, before many
hours, I should have perished on the road.
Accordingly I rode up to a tavern, delivered
my horse to the ostler, ordering him to take the
best possible care of him, and retired to the
house, though with much difficulty, on account
of the stiffness of my limbs, and the numbness
of all my physical powers. Seating myself by
the fire, I fell into a sound sleep, from which I
was awakened by the intense pain of which I
became the subject, as my frozen extremities
were operated upon by the fire. Upon remov-
ing my shoes, my feet presented a piteous ap-
pearance, being almost entirely covered with
blisters, so that I could not place them upon
the ground without screaming.

The family now began to gather round me,

■Si

'< I

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

109

fewr, in

se hard,

id noth-

d that it

him out

red and

sperien-

individ-

n which

as forty

ual dis-

States.

e Regi-

d me to

ch need

) put up

> many

e road.

livered

ake the

to the

ccount

bness

elf by

hichi

mities

•emov-

»us ap-

with

upon

id me^

not to administer to my necessities, but merely
to gratify an ignoble curiosity, I say ignoble,
because it had no other end than to rid them-
selves of a troublesome burden, as they feared,
from my appearance, I might become. They
began by expressing their surprise at my
unseasonable dress, and that I should travel in
the night, and so far, as from my appearance
they judged I had. To this, I answered in the
best way possible to prevent suspicion, but in
vain ; the landlord doubted my veracity, and
sent for a number of gentlemen belonging to
the neighborhood, who on their arrival, exam-
ined me very closely. By this time, my pain
had so increased that I became almost insensi-
ble ; so much so, that my answers became con-
fused, and upon being asked by one of them
from whence I came, I thoughtlessly replied,
from Montreal : whereupon they began to sus-
pect me to be a deserter. Upon this, I effect-
ually roused myself from my stupor, and plead
my case so ably that the suspicions of most of
them were lulled, and they retired, expressing
their satisfaction at my story, and their belief
of my innocence. But the avaricious and un-
feeling landlord was still dissatisfied, and asked
me if I was willing to go back with him so far
as St. John's, to see if there was any inquiry,
or stir about me. To prevent any further sus-
picion in his mind, I told him I was perfectly
willing, (though to the contrary, I was very «m-
willingy but I did so that he might think I tta$
innocent) provided he would bring me back a^

>AI

i! I

!j:

110 LIFE OP W. B. LIGIITON.

ter being satisfied with my innocence. He

{»romi9ed he would, though 1 felt that there was
ittle hope of my avoiding detection, as a com-
pany belonging to my regiment were stationed
at that place, and would immediately, on seeing
mc, recognize me as one of the regiment.
Reader, can you conceive my feelings ? To do
it you must place yourself in my situation.
Suppose yourself a stranger, poor and destitute,
your limbs all sore and blistered, a deserter
from the army, in the hands of cruel, hard-
hearted men, about to take you back to place
you in the hands of those who have no mercy
upon their victims, and exposed to the cruel
punishment of whipping, a punishment worse
than death : and perhaps you can form some
idea of my feelings.

Before I proceed farther, I will just stop to
uncover the heart of the landlord, and show
the principle lurking there, which induced him
to betray me. He believed me to be a desert-
er, and knew that could he prove the fact, and
lodge me in the hands of the regiment, he
should receive thirty dollars^ as a reward of his
cruelty, for my apprehension. For this sum
was he willing to expose me to the most igno-
minious of all punishments. What will not
some men do for the sake of money ? With some
the value of human life is insignificant com-
pared with it. "O how deceitful, how deeply
damning is the love of money ! Well might
the heathen exclaim, while contemplating the
grave of one who was murdered for his wealth.

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

Ill

\c. He

lere was
3 a com-
;tationed
n seeing
egiment.
? To do
situation,
iestitute,

deserter
el, hard-

to place
10 mercy
the cruel
jnt worse
brm Sonne

ist stop to
and show
luced him
a desert-
lact, and
ment, he
ard of his
this sum
lost ig no-
will not
Vith some
fant com-
)w deeply
[ell might
hating the
lis wealth.

■i

O ! cursed lust of gold ! what wilt thou not in-
duce the human heart to perpetrate ? " Judas
is deservedly considered as one of the most in*
famous of men, his conduct base beyond de-
scription, and his motives vile. But alas ! how
many who censure his act, imitate him in their
lives ! How many sell their souls for a less
sum ! Ho ye Judas% read your doom I learn
your danger when you hear the Apostle telling
you from Grod that " no unrighteous man, nor
covetous, shall enter into the kingdom of God !"
From so great a curse may God save every
money4ovingy honor^huntingy pleasure'taJcingy
thoughtless, goddess man !

But to proceed with my narrative : after par-
taking of some refreshment, the landlord pro-
ceeded to convey me to St. Johns, at which
place we arrived about two o'clock P. M. and
was conducted to an inn, where I was put un-
der the safe-keeping of the landlord, at that
place, until inquiry was made respecting me.
But I had not been there long before informa-
tion was obtained that I was a deserter, and
that despatches to different parts of the country
were in pursuit of me. This news highly grat-
ified my captor, who very speedily communi-
cated the fact of my detention to the officers of
the company, stationed there, who immediately
sent a file of soldiers to conduct me to the
guard-house, where I was placed under close
confinement. The soldiers exhibited much
kindness towards me^ which kindness was pe-
culiarlv seasonable, as 1 was in such a situa-

.i<Wv»../«»_.„.

l\' I

112

lion,

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

y reason of being frozen, that I was not
able to feed myself without assistance. The
Lieutenant, who was commander of the com-
pany, visited me during this season of wretch-
edness ; his aspect was mild, his language kind
and savoring of pity ; upon retiring, he sent
me a portion of food from his own table, which
supply came very opportunely for the relief of
my crying wants. In short, the treatment I
experienced exceeded all my expectations, and
I thought with such officers, even a soldier's
life might be tolerable, and that my case would
not be so bad, had I such men to pass sentence
upon me for the crime I had so unfortunately
committed. As it was, my case was to be pla-
ced in the hands of men of hard-hearts, and
tyrannic principles; men who regarded no pun-
ishment too severe for those who had violated
their lordly commands. At night the soldiers
spread their great coats for me upon the floor,
and the before-mentioned officer, sent me some
articles of covering, with which I strove to
compose my weary body, while my no less
wearied mind was torn on the fearful rack of
gloomy expectation.

. ^Thu8

Brooding o'er sorrow's fount, silent

I gazed upon tiie gloomy past :

Till worn with watching, I sought the aid

Of gentle sleep. I slept, and felt refreshed.

The morning's dawn witnessed preparations
for my conveyance back to Montreal, and afl^^r
partaking of some bread and tea, which consti-
tuted my breakfast, orders were sent me to pre-

. V ".aift l iM'-'MMii-i.

^pgg

MHMII

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

113

nras not
. The

e com-
wretch-
ige kind
be sent
J, which
elief of
itment I
jns, and
soldier's
)e would
sentence
tunately
3 be pla-
irts, and
no pun-
violated
soldiers
he floor,
le some
itrove to
no less
rack of

larations
md afl^r
consti-
[e to pre-

ptre mxielf for my journey . Having wrapped
•ome raga round my feet and drawn on some
old stocking legs, which served as shoes, and
obtained the loan of a soldier's great coat, I
stood reddy, with my shoes in my hand. About
eight o'clock, I was marched to the stage
house, between a file of guard, armed with
drawn swords, which walk, although only a few
rods, occasioned me a great deal of pain, as
my feet were so extremely sore. The guard,
and myself were soon seated in the stage, when
we proceeded to Montreal ; the journey of
which, was attended with the most exquisite
pain, in consequence of the cold striking to all
my frozen parts. My feelings were indeed not
less painful as we approached the place of our
destination, from the fact that it was to be the
scene of my punishment, and which was in ef-
fect no better than barbarism, or the bloody
inquisition. Arriving at Montreal, and being
iinable to walk, they placed me upon a lumber
sled to convey me from the place where we left
the stage to the barracks, about a mile in dis-
tance. At the barracks gate one of my peculiar
friends stood sentinel, who appeared as if thun-
derstruck at witnessing my situation ; he dared
not speak, but exhibited his emotion by turning
ghastly pale. At length I was placed in the
guard-room, as a prisoner, under strong guard,
where I was soon visited by the adjutant, who
expressed his surprise at finding me a prisoner.
He informed me my guilt was of no ordinary
kind ; that it was unpardonable ; that standing

114

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

and

charged with desertion un^ oi,^»i»t.^,
highly probable death would be my punishment.

My case was soon reported to the command*
ing officer, (Colonel Andrews) who made out
my commitment, and sent orders for my con*
veyance to the' main guardy whither I was
marched, hand-cuffed, guarded by a strong
detachment, with drawn swords^ and surroun-
ded by many of my anxious comrades, whom
curiosity or sympathy had drawn together
to witness my rertioval. These circumstan-
ces increased my fears, as I knew that none
hut the worst of characters were consigned to
this wretched place : it therefore appeared to
me as my death warrant.

My new habitation was again the scene of
increased wretchedness : here with my limbs
all sore, without a friend, without a fire, with-
out hope, I was left in dreary solitude to await
my trial. Hard indeed was my lot ! miserable
my situation ? How often did I sigh over my
past folly, while restless, I turned over my chaf-
ed and frozen limbs to seek momentary respite
from my cruel sufferings, on the hard floor of
my prison, for bed I had none.

Providence, however, raised up a friend^ by
whose intercession my troubles were in a meas-
ure mitigated : that friend was Lady Fitzgerald,
who, hearing of my situation, procured the re-
moval of my handcuffs, and permission for me
to sleep in the guard room, as also to warm
myself occasionally at the fire, during the day.
The Docter also paid me a visit, and after ex-

¥'

^iaf^~?*-VSWf*4=«aWHWiB(ev»

LIFC Ol'" W. n. LIGIITON.

115

))

lishment.
ornmand*
made out

con-
r I waB

a strong
surroun-
ds, whom
together
cumstan*
that none
igned to
leared to

scene of
ny limbs
re, with-

to await
liserabla
over my
ny chaf-
f respite

floor of

iendy by
a meas-
Kgerald,
the re-
for me
warm
he day.
fler ex-

amining my wounds, lefl me and sent his ser-
vant to dress them, from whose miserable and
bungling performance, I experienced the most
ftctite suffering with but little advantage. How-
ever I was obliged to endure his operations,
though he treated me more like a brute than a
man.

I was next visited by Captain Pierce, my of-
fended master,whose very countenance bespoke
an angry soul. He saluted me with the most
impious threats, and uttered such awful impre-
cations, that had they been brought upon me
would have placed me iiA the lowest abyss of
hell but I pleased myself with the thought that
they were but noisy breath. He said he had
not the least pity for me, and that no mercy
should be shown me, and with a tremendous
oath declared I should sufl^er deathy that my
suffering might operate as a warning to others.
He observed farther that had he overtaken me
on the night of my desertion^ he would have
afiot me dead upon the spot, O, what may not
such tyrannic monsters expect when God comes
to judgment !

Jpr<fv4 itfranU tremble ! for a weight of woe

Hangs in black columns of tremendous ire

p*er yoiur devoted souls. Black, black with dismal wrath

It spreads i(s muricy gloom around youf heads

(Boon, soon to burst. Then horrible confusion ?

Dismay unutterable ! keen anguish, and ven^anoe

Such as beings infinite inflict

Shall fill your reeking hearts ! The piercing criee

Of beings immolated by your lordly liandd

Shall howl confusion in your frighted ears ;

And cliain your souls in everlasting woe.

116

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

It is a cheering thought that the designs of
men are oflen happily prevented by the inter-
position of Divine Frovidence, and that its
overruling arm is ever stretched forth for the
accomplishment of its own designs of forbear-
ance towards guilty man : it was so in my case.
Had the servant gone immediately to the guard
room, at the barracks and alarmed the guard,
in all probability they would have discovered
my route and perhaps have shot me dead upon
the spot, as I understood the captain and his
soldiers pursued me with rrfles and pistols.
But as it was, he first went and informed the
officers at the ball room, so that a sufficient
time elapsed for me to escape their pursuit, and
thus my life was prolonged, and time given me
for repentance. Thus i have abundant reason
to thank and adore the divine goodness for the
mercy which spared me through this critical
event !

Having remained for some days imprisoned
in the main guard, under the most intense suf-
fering of body and mind, I was informed of
their intention to commit me to the city prison.
Nor did I wait long before a non-commissioned
officer with two men of my company visited
me, brought me my clothes, &c. and said it
was their orders to conduct me to the civil pris-
on . Inasmuch as the military law took no cog-
nizance of my act of taking the horse, I was
in consequence thereof delivered over for civil
process, which, afler suffering the penalty of
my crime, should the punishment not be deaihj I

lesigns of
the inter-
I that its
i for the
r forbear-
i my case,
the guard
|ie guard,
iscovered
ead upon
k and his
1 pistols,
'med the
sufficient
•suit, and
?iven me
1^' reason
s for the
s critical

iprisoned
use suf-
rmed of
r prison,
missioned
^ visited
. said it
ivil pris-
'' no cog-
'> I was
for civil
lalty of
dcaihj I

1. 1\

tIFE OP W. B. LICIITON.

117

■A
A

•X,

was then recognizable for the act of desertion.
This change in my situation filled me for a mo-
ment with sensations of a pleasing nature,
which however, were soon damped by the con-
sideration that my crime, according to British
law, was punishable with death. Notwithstand-
ing my prospect was dark and dreary before
me, I rejoiced that I had escaped the ignomy
of a public whipping, which to me would have
been worse than death, had I only been prepar-
ed. This circumstance was to me a most pe-
culiarly trying one, when my fortitude and eve-
ry feeling of my agitated soul was put to its
trial as I was ushered into the cold damp prison
of Montreal. The harsh grating of the iron
doors, the massive bolts and bars by which they
were secured, and above all, the gloomy dun-
geon in which I was placed, sunk my spirits in-
to the depths of despondency and grief Ad-
ded to this, I was placed in a room in company
with some of the vilest miscreants in creation.
Men who seemed by a long continuance in
crime to have lost their humanity ; and to have
imbibed the spirit of Satan himself. Here I
endured hunger and want without mitigation,
or relief, until my hitherto robust frame began
to yield to these accumulated inconveniences,
and threatened me with early dissolution. As
it was, it produced a weakness that has taken
years for me to recover from. In this situation
I made an appeal to the liberality of the regi-
ment, to which I belonged ; they immediately
began a subscription for my relief, but the cap-

118

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

tain hearing of their intention, strictly forbade
them from sending me a single copper. Thus
did the hard-hearted Captain prove that he was
sincere when he said he would ^^ show me no
mercy zX all."

Again did an ever watchful Providence pro-
vide me a friend in my extremity, in the person
of a Mr. Weidenbecker, with whom I was ac-
quainted during my abode with Capt. Pierce.
This gentleman had formed a favorable opinion
of my character, and had conceived a feeling of
the strongest attachment towards me : he discov-
ered the true reason of my former imprudence,
and while he was willing to blame the crime,
he saw that the offender was more deserving
of pity than censure. From him I occasional-
ly received a supply of food and through him
the sympathy of others was excited in my be-
half, but notwithstanding these kind helps, I
Qtill had much to endure, and much to suffer.
Mr. W. also assured me he would procure ev-
ery possible assistance at my trial, which was
expected to come on in the spring ; he promis-
ed to give his testimony to my moral character,
&c. Such tokens of friendship as this, were
peculiarly adapted to comfort me in my unfor-
tunate and lonely situation.

I now began to recover from my lameness,
and to apply myself to reading and study, es-
pecially to music; the latter study, however,
was forbidden me by the goaler, to whom it
was disagreeable, but being a pious man, he
kindly provided me with religious books, to

I i

-- ^ . „mmm

LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON.

119

r forbade
r. Thus
Eit he was
w me no

snce pro-
le person
[ was ac-
:. Pierce.
3 opinion
beling of
le discov-
)rudence,
he crime,
leserving
^casionai-
>ugh him
n my be-
helps, I
Buffer.
)cure ev-
hich was
promis-
laracter,
lis, were
unfor-

leness,
ludy, es-
lowever,
(whom it

lan, he
ioks, to

which I applied myself with persevering dili-
gence, and through which circumstance I ob-
tained a taste for reading and study, which has
remained by me to the present time, and which
I have found to be especially advantageous.

But while my studious habits gave no small
satisfaction to the goaler, it gave rise to an un-
pleasant excitement among my fellow prisoners,
who constantly treated me so rudely, that I was
induced to petition for a removal to some other
place of confinement ; which petition was
crowned with success, and I was removed to a
pleasant room in the front part of the prison,
from whence I had a full view of the market
place, &c.

As the time of my trial approached I became
extremely impatient ; my mind was continually
on the rack of suspense in regard to my ap-
proaching fate. My accusers however ; did
not come forward, and my case in consequence,
was deferred to the next court which did not
sit under six months. Thus I was lefl through
that period, a prey to anxiety and trouble of
mind, as well as of bodily suffering ; which to-
gether, considerably impaired my health. Dur-
ing that time my regiment was removed to
Kingston, Upper Canada, and by its removal,
begat the hope that my accusers would neglect
to appear against me at the next session, and
that consequently, I should be kept until its
third sitting, and then, from absence of witnes-
ses, should be liberated according to law.
Foolish thought ! the officers only neglected to

UKKO; :i^-

I IP-

1 .

ti li 'I

!i" Wl

I. i\

120

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

appear at the first court, in order to prolong
my imprisonment, and increase my suspense '

Previous to the approach of the next court,
I addressed myself to a noted Counsellor in the
city, who visited me, and promised to become
my advocate ; I also prepared an address to the
court, soliciting mercy and compassion. When
the court commenced its session, I was inform-
ed of the arrival of Col. R. and Capt. P. to at*
tend my trial. At length, escorted by a strong
guard of Constables, I was placed at the bar ;
the solemnity of the scene — the importance of
my case — and the presence of my accusers,
overwhelmed me with confusion, and I almost
fell to the earth. My trial however, did not
proceed that day ; I was simply asked whether
guilty or not guilty } to which L replied, ^*M>t
gt«t%;" when they ordered me back to prison,
informing me I should be tried the next day.

This delay offered me leisure to fortify my
mind, and recover from the confusion into which
I had been thrown. The next morning I was
taken into court under better, and more suita-
ble feelings of mind to endure my trial. The
court was crowded and intense interest was dis-
played by all present durins its progress.
When the jury were impannelled, I took care
to challenge all whose countenances did not
bear evidence of youth and sympathy, thinking
that those who were in the prime of life, would
take a deeper interest in my prosperity and
blend mercy with justice. To my confusion,
the lawyer who had promised to plead my case,

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

121

prolong
ispense '
it court,
or in the
become
iss to the
. When
s inform-
P. to at-
a strong
the bar ;
'tance of
ic.cusers,
I almost
, did not
[ whether
ed, "JVoe
o prison,
t day.
rtify my
ito which
ng I was
re Buita-
d. The
was dis-
>rogress.
•ok care
did not
Ithinking
, would
ity and
infusion,
ly case,

suddenly lefl the court, and abandoned me to
the mercy of my accusers ; the goaler, seeing
my distress, whispered me to address the court
for an advocate ; which I did ; whereupon they
granted my request.

The landlord who apprehended me was one
of the principal witnesses, but he was so alter-
ed that I scarcely knew him : a deathlike pale-
ness had overspread his cheeks, and as I was
afterwards informed, he died soon after my trial.
In about an hour, the testimony of the witness-
es was all given in, and after my Counsel had
ably and eloquently pleaded my case, the jury,
having received their charge, retired, and after
a few minutes conversation, returned with a
verdict against me, accompanied with a strong
recommendation for MERCY.

This announcement filled me with alarm and
terror ; all my hopes were built upon the last
words of the jury : " We recommend him for
Mercy. ^^ My lawyer observing my emotion,
came to me at the bar, and told me I need ap-
prehend no danger of suffering death, for said
he, " the jury have done an act in recommend-
ing you for mercy, which will, in spite of all
opposition, prove your salvation." He added,
"you will no doubt receive sentence of death,
but don't despond, for it will not be executed ;
but in the course of a short time you will be re-
prieved, and will probably have to suffer one
or two years imprisonment, as the Governor
may determine." He then ofi'ered me a few
words of advice, and left me, having received
12

it- ,«

i>fJr

!?*3

122

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON-

i j ! [ , ;

I [

my hearty thanks, which was all I had to be-
stow in return for his services.

I was now remanded back to prison, to await
the end of the session, which lasted several
days on account of the number of commitments.
The result of the proceedings of the court was,
that nine were found guilty of capital crimes ;
when we were all brought up to receive our
sentences. It is impossible for me to give c
just description of that eventful day ; then, ev-
ery man's strength failed him ; every counte-
nance betrayed the secret workings of the heart;
every fountain of sorrow was opened, and found
vent in floods of tears ; the stout hearted trem-
bled, and wished he had never been born. 'J'he
solemn scene began ; when, not a word was
heard, save those of the Judge ; all was still as
death. We were asked if we had any request
to make ; upon which we all fell upon our
knees, and humbly begged for pardon ; to which
it was replied, "/If cannot be granted you.'^^ The
senior judge now pronounced sentence of death
upon us, which ran as follows : " The sentence
of this court isy that you shall be taken back to the
place from whence you came, and from thence y in
four weeks f be conveyed to the place of executioUy
there to be hanged by the neck until you are dead,
and may Ood Mmighty have mercy upon your
«ou/5." Notwithstanding I had but little ap-
prehension about the putting of this sentence
mto execution, yet my sensations wer6 pecu-
liarly distressing ; and although I aflected in-
diflTerence, yet my heart was sad ; it was im*

ad to be-

I, to await
i several
mitments.
ourt was,
1 crimes ;
;eive our
to give c
then, ev-
y counte-
;he heart ;
md found
ted trem-
Drn. 'J 'he
ivord was
as still as
Y request
ipon our
to which
m." The
I of death
; sentence
ack to the
thence, in
\xecutiony
ire dead,
oon your
ittle ap-
sentence
ire pecu-
Bcted in-
was im-

>'%

V \ i 'i .

■

*■

4.-'

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTOPf.

123

H
H

Q
as

possible to divest myself of fear and terror.
We were now conducted back to prison, loaded
with irons, and were thrust into the condemned
room, a sorrowful, gloomy, and miserable apart-
ment, to which none were admitted, save the
clergy, and those who had business of impor-
tance with the prisoners.

On the third day afler my condemnation^ my
friend Mr. Weidenbecker, in company with
another gentleman, came to visit me ; they
mentioned the expediency of petitioning His
Excellency, the Earl of Dalhousie, the Gov-
ernor, for my reprieve, and offered to prepare
it, if I were willing. Of course I assented,
and the next day Mr. W. returned with a peti-
tion, very ably drawn up for my signature. Af-
ter signing it myself, he subscribed his own
name, and having procured the signatures of
the jurors of my trial, forwarded it to the Gov-
ernor immediately. Such was the benevolence
of this gentleman, and such his attachment to-
wards me, that I shall never cease to remem^-
ber his name with gratitude. His, was a love
which approached nearest to disinterestedness
of any thing I ever knew ; he unexpectedly be-
came my friend in my hour of extremity and
danger, and his friendship remained inviolable,
during my acquaintance with him. What ac-
quisition is so precious as that of a friend ?

How strong the friendly h^art controls.
The feelings of our troubled souls.
It cheers the gloom of blackest night.
And puts our num'rous fears to flight.

:i:^'

r'Mi

! 1 :

:ii'!('i;

!l:

!» ii,:;!;

ill
I

124

LU'i; VV \V. U. Li

U 11

to;

Tl.e

til h

pnsonei d ueii, it li;;lits with Hope
And inaket!! his gloomy soul look up !
And though he may with woe contend,
He finds u treasure in his frienii.

Friendship on earth ! 'tis nobler far,
Tiian all the riches of a Czar !
A friend whose love through woe will hold,
His worth can ne*cr be told in GOLD !

Perhaps the reader would be pleased to learn
something of the character and feelings of iny
fellow prisoners, while under condemnation,
and in expectation of speedy death. Of our
number, seven were Catholics, natives of Can-
ada, except one, who was a South American ■,
these were profane and disgusting in their con-
versation and manners, at first, a very natural
consequence of the destructive faith they pro-
fessed. If they sinned, they found a salvo for
a guilty conscience in confession to the priest,
who, poor man, affected to forgive them offen-
ces, committed against a holy and infinite God.
The other was a protestant, a mulatto from the
United States, whose demeanor was more se-
rious and proper. We were visited daily, by
Roman Catholic priests, to whom their adhe-
rents paid no small share of reverence and at-
tention. We were also visited by a Clergyman
of the establishment, who labored incessantly to
instruct us in the wisdom of the Gospel, and to
impress our minds with the importance of obe-
dience to its precepts. Such, however, was
our state, that we understood but little of the
vitality of religion, or of its operation upon the

LIFE OF W. li. LlOillTOX.

125

.merican

heart. For my ewn part, although I had re-
ceived some knowledge of God in my early
life, yet I had supposed (hat a strict attention
to morality, was all the Bible required. I
knew, to be sure, that Jesus Christ had suffer-
ed death, but for what, and for whom I scarce-
ly knew ; hence, when questioned about the
grace of God, repentance, and faith, all I could
say, only tended to set forth my lamentable ig-
norance of these glorious truths. This discov-
ery induced the Clergyman to spare no efforts,
time, or pains, to pour instruction into our dark
and benighted minds. He seriously exhorted
us to attend to the salvation of our souls, point-
ing out the way in the simplest and most affec-
tionate manner, and then joining in prayer, he
would commit us to God, and leave us to our
reflections.

I became deeply serious, reflected much up-
on my past folly, and thought that then was the
best time to seek religion, and the salvation of
my soul ; but alas ! I went no further, though
his labors were not in vain, inasmuch as they
laid the foundation of my subsequent conver-
sion. The effects of his visits, however, were
glorious in regard to the mulatto; for he became
deeply convicted, and began to call upon God
through Jesus Christ, and soon found salvation
through his most precious blood. He remained,
during the rest of his life a most devoted and
holy Christian, the work of grace upon his
heart, was evident to every observer.

While in this confinement, I received the

126

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

following epistle from Mr. Apple, my former
comrade, who had obtained his discharge.

Laprarie, Oct. — , 1823.
My Dear Friend — Your unfortunate situa-
tion is a subject of the deepest concern to me.
Nothing ever gave me more exquisite pain than
the news of your being sentenced to death.
But the fact that the jury plead for your life,
upon the day of trial, is a subject the most in-
teresting and cheering that I can conceive of ;
and I have no reason to doubt but that you will
be pardoned. Indeed, I am impatiently wait-
ing to hear the result of your case. Believe
me, comrade, 1 feel for you as I should for a
son, and would as soon fly to your relief. Let
me advise you to endure your sufferings pa-
tiently. Don't be dispirited, but submit your
case to the all-wise disposer of human events,
who alone is able to sustain the afflicted, and
make way for their escape. And, although
your situation is apparently the most dismal
that could well be imagined, yet, let me cheer
your gloomy mind with the fond assurance that
you may safely hope soon to receive pardon ;
for the circumstance I have mentioned, is proof
that you cannot — will not suffer. Let my sym-
pathy, together with the little sum I send en-
closed, cheer you, till you are more happily
relieved. Did not the distance, and the pres-
sure of business prevent, I should visit you
You will therefore, kindly excuse me, and be-
lieve me to be your sincere friend.

HENRY APPLE.

LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON.

127

This letter came to hand very opportunely,
and had a happy effect upon my mind. My
heart had begun to sink, at the sight of the
misery and wretchedness the prisoners now be-
gan to evince, as the day of execution ap-
proached. Their solemn and intense prepara-
rations to meet their fates ; the perfect security
under which we were confined ; but above all,
their deep groans in the night season, as they
awoke from their terriffic dreams, were causes
powerful enough to disturb the peace of one in
the possession of liberty and prosperity ; much
more, of one who was by no means certain that
he would not die a culprit's death. At length
the gaoler visited our apartment, bringing me
the cheering intelligence that the Governor had
sent my reprieve, and told me I should be taken
out of my irons the next day, and conveyed to
another room. This intelligence made me re-
joice beyond degree, and notwithstanding my
irons, I paced the room with exultation, and felt
us if I were light as a feather ; nor did I envy
the king on his throne. I was not permitted to
pass the night in the dismal cell with the poor
culprits, but was removed to one adjoining,
whence I heard no more thoir dismal cries and
groanings. I slept but little through the night
for joy, and in the morning my irons were taken
off, and I left my dreary dungeon, and took
possession of my old apartment opposite the
public street. My extacy of joy that I now
felt was beyond language to describe. I felt
relieved, yea, I almost felt as if I was libera-

6J.

130

LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON.

hearts wer*^ so swolen with grief, that we could
hardly command our feelings.

Early the next morning the prison yards,and
every adjacent spot were crowded with specta-
tors, who came to witi.ess the awful scene. At
twelve o'clock the victims were brought from
prison, and with tottering steps conveyed to the
drop ; the ropes were carefully adjusted round
their necks, and after the offering up of prayer
to God by the clergy, commending their souls
to his infinite mercy, the drop fell ; they strug-
gled a few moments, and then all was still as
death ; they had gone to their reward. I
viewed their death from a chink in the wall of
my prison ; and never, till that moment, did I
experience such cold, chilling, heart rending
emotions ; and I pray God I may never again
witness a similar scene. I cannot forbear just
mentioning to my readers, the crimes for which
these men suffered ; two of them had been ac-
complices in breaking into a store ; and the
other had stolen some live stock which was
found in his possession, and recovered again.
These were the crimes for which they were
hung ; that their punishment was greater than
their crimes is obvious ; and all I need say is,
that it is time such laws were abrogated by ev-
ery nation professing the christian religion. I
am, however, happy to state that the laws of
my beloved country are annually becoming
more lenient and merciful, and that death is now
only inflicted for higher and more dangerous
crimes.

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

131

we could

ardsjund
specta-
ene. At
ght from
ed to the
cd round
of prayer
leir souls
ey strug-
s still as
ward. X
3 wall of
nt, did I
t rending
er again
bear just
for which
been ac-

and the
hich was
sd again,
ley were
ater than
fd say is,
id by ev-
gion. I

laws of
ecoming
Ih is now
mgerous

The awful feelings, incident to the solemni-
ties we had witnessed, were soon worn off by a
consideration of our own situation : as to our
future lot we were entirely ignorant : we amu-
sed ourselves with conjecturing what wolild be
the result, when, afler a few weeks, it was re-
vealed to us in the following mysterious man-
ner.

In the dark hour of night as we were occu-
pied in walking up and down our room in con-
* versation about our future destiny, we were
suddenly alarmed with the rattling of chains
and the approach of footsteps towards the door
of our room ; we were amazed ; every man
turned pale, some expecting nothing else but
to be brought once more under the fatal sent-
ence from which we had been reprieved, while
others, more sanguine, thought we were about
to be taken across the St. Lawrence and com-
manded to leave the country. In the midst of
our fears the doer was opened ; a number of
men entered, laden with irons, and without the
least ceremony, riveted them fast upon our
limbs. This done, we were ordered down the
prison stairs, and conducted to the yard, where
was a horse and cart in waiting, into whick^
with much difficulty, we clambered. We were
then driven through the main street to the
wharf, and put on board a steamboat which im-
mediately btarted towards Quebec. The rea-
son of this strange and mysterious move we
could not conjecture ; but finally concluded we
were about to be transported to Bermuda, or
13

ill

4 1
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!'
ill"

' ■•■'
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132

LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON.

M m: !

some other foreign place, until the gaoler, who
was one of our attendants, informed us we were
all sentenced to five years hard labor in Que-
bec jail.

The boat made a stop at Three Rivers, and
took in another prisoner, who was under the
same sentence as ourselves, and after forty-
eight hours sail, arrived at Quebec. The
gaoler, under whose care we were now to be
placed, soon came on board, and having ascer-
tained our numbers, &.c. left us, and speedily re- •
turned with a horse cart, in which we were ta-
ken to the prison ; the sight of which, was
enough to fill the mind with the most gloomy
apprehensions. Passing through the main en-
try, which was closely guarded by iron gates
and huge wooden doors, we were conducted up
a flight of stairs, through a dismal passage, to a
room in the north part of the prison, designated
"the work-house," where we were received by
several companions in distress and confiiiement,
whose looks and language bespoke our sym-
pathy.

We had not been here long before we were
visited by the turnkey, accompanied with a
blacksmith, who, to our no small satisfaction,
relieved us of our irons, which already had
produced on some of us swolen legs and sore
hands. Our apartment was one of the pleas-
antest in the prison, as it afforded us a view of
the street, and of the soldiers barracks, and
tended very much to relieve the otherwise
lonliness of our situation. But the gaoler, fear-

LIFE OF \V. B. LIGHTON.

133

ler, who
we were
in Que-
ers, and
ider the
Jr forty -
The
)w to be
g ascer-
3dilv re- •
were ta-
3h, was
gloomy
nain en-
>n gates
icted up
ige, to a
jignated
;ived by
aement,
ir sym-

.ve were
with a
^faction,
idy had
nd sore
3 pleas-
view of
ks, and
herwise
er, fear-

ing we should attempt our escape, soon remov-
ed us to a more solitary and secure situation,
where we could only see the sentinel as he
paced up and down on his post in the back yard
of the prison.

One advantage we enjoyed here was, that
visters were admitted every day to see those
prisoners, who, for petty offences, were confin-
ed for a few months ; by means of these we
were enabled to send out for almost any article
we were able to purchase, so that our situation
upon the whole was preferable to what it was
at Montreal, labor excepted. On the Sabbath,
divine worship was performed in one of the
apartments in the prison, of which privilege I
availed myself every Sunday without an excep-
tion.

The reader has already understood that we
were doomed to spend our term of imprisonment
in hard labor ; to effect this, we were placed
upon a tread loheel, which was used to break
stones for the public highway. The wheel was
very large and admitted a number of prisoner?
upon it at the same time. It was set in motion
by the weight of the prisoners, who were then
obliged to keep a regular step, or ruii the risk
of breaking their legs. Fortunately for us, the
concern did not meet the expectation of the
projector, and was soon laid aside, to our great
joy and satisfaction. The failure of this project
by no means prevented us from being kept ac-
tively employed ; for we were then required to
pick thirty pounds of oakum a man per week,
which was no easy or trifling task.

^t !

134

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

• t

ill

us)
We

With our labor we found our appetites in-
creased, and our scanty allowance, (which was
hrrad and water, it being but one pound and a
half of bread, composed of c<)tarse materials,
which was all the kind of food we had allowed
was insufficient to support us in our work.

e immediately made our complaint to the
gaoler, informing him that unless he gave us
more to eat we could not do the task assigned
us ; in reply, he told us ^^he could not help w,
and that we had better apply to the Governor. ^^
Upon this we drew up a petition, setting forth
our wants and privations in the clearest and
most forcible manner, and praying for immedi-
ate and effectual relief, and sent it to the Gov-
ernor. But it produced no effect. We next
petitioned the citizens, presenting our distress,
as we had to the Governor, and imploring tliem
to assist us by affording us some of the neces-
saries of life,out of the abundance they posses-
sed. Here we were successful, and for a while
obtained some small mitigation of our sorrows,
but as we continued to plead for a continuation
of these favors, and to paint our wants in the
most glowing colors, our situation became a
matter of notoriety, our distress became a mat-
ter of common conversation, until the officers
of the prison discovering that they were likely
to be charged with inhumanity and hard-heart-
edness pubhshed us as impoaters^tind by this act
stifled every generous and charitable feeling
towards us, and blasted all our hopes of assist-
ance from this quarter.

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

135

^tites in-
hich was
nd and a
naterials,
I allowed
ur work,
it to the
gave us
assigned
I help tUy

ng forth
rest and
immedi-
:he Gov-
We next
distress,
ng them
5 neces-
' posses-

a while
sorrows,
inuation

in the
scame a
i a mat-

ofBcers
e likely
i-heart-.
this act

feeling
' assist*

1 **5

So far did the distress endured by us extend,
that on one occasion, as the turnkey came to our
apartment, he was followed by a large cat, a
great favorite of one of the gentlemen of the
prison, which passed along into one of the cells
and was unobservedly left in the room. The
prisoners like beings suffering with starvation,
seized the poor creature, and immediately kil-
led and cooked it, and in less than two hours
eat him up ; those who partook of it declared
it was as savoury as veal.

We now contrived another plan to obtain help,
which was to make skewers for the butchers,
^nlt of part of the wood we were allowed for
fires. As the avails of these skewers, we re-
ceived the offal of the market, such as beePs
heads, sheep's heads, and pluck, &c. some of
which would stink like carrion, but we devour-
ed every think with greediness ; but others in
the prison observing our success adopted the
same method and soon spoiled our market.

I now applied myself to drawing and paint-
ing, for which I possessed considerable taste,
hoping to obtain a trifling sum for my produc-
tions,but found myself disappointed. However,
I followed it for amusement, as it tended to be-
guile away many of my tedious hours. Added
to want of food, we suffered greatly from cold,
as all the bed clothing we were allowed, was
one blanket per man. Our dress too, became
thread-bare and torn, and some indeed were al-
most naked ; which greatly increased our suf-
ferings bv the cold. But this was not the worst;

f^ if

m
if

Mi
1

136

LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON.

iiM,.:i

the prison was filthy, and not having proper
necessaries to make us comfortable, we became
exceedingly infested with lice, so that, in short,
we presented a spectacle, that would make hu-
manity shudder at the sight.

We next resolved to rid ourselves of part of
our labor, which we did by throwing a large
portion of rope, brought us to be picked, into
the privy, so that out of thirty pounds brought
to us, we seldom returned more than one half,
the rest being destroyed in the way mentioned,
or by fire. In this way we contrived to clear
the prison of the article, and thus were out of
employ for some time. A great failure, howev-
er, in the returns made at the end of the job,
created strong suspicions that we had destroyed
some of our work, but as they possessed no ev-
idence of our guilt, we for a while, remained
undiscovered. By and by however, the draught
though twenty feet in depth, became filled up,
which led the turnkey to inspect it, when he
found a huge pile of rope which we had placed
there. Enraged at the discovery, he told us
that we should pick it all out as soon as the
spring opened, and the draught should be thaw-
ed. In this however, he was mistaken,for soon
after it began to thaw, the heavy current of
water which passed through, washed it away
through the common sewer into the river, and
we heard no more about it.

These unmitigated sorrows and troubles ten-
ded to drive us almost to despair, and some of
the prisoners were strongly tempted to commit

; proper

became

in short,

lake hu-

' part of
a large
ed, into
brought
me half,
ntioned,
to clear
B out of
, howev-
the job,
jstroyed
i no ev-
smained
Iraught
lied up,
hen he
placed
told us
as the
e thaw-
or soon
rent of
away
;r, and

es ten-
>me of
commit

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

137

suicide ; and I doubt not but they would have
done it, had it not been for a faint hope that they
should make their escape . Amid these calam-
ities I was prompted to write to my friend Mr.
W. of Montreal, stating to him my situation
ar 1 sufferings. He was pleased to answer me,
and recommended me to write to two of his
friends in Quebec, whose addresses he sent in
his letter. I accordingly wrote to one of them,
who only ridiculed me for my pains. Howev-
er, I sent to him a second time, and enclosed
Mr. Ws. letter in one of my own, which had a
better effect. He sent me some necessaries
and a dollar in money.

When this was expended I wrote to the other,
who immediately came to visit me ; upon en-
tering the room, he inquired for me by name,

and said he was Mr. . Taking him

aside, I presented him with Mr. Ws. letter ;
afler perusing it some time, he asked me, ^^are
you a mason ?" I replied, no sir ; upon which
he started back and said, ''/ took you to be one
by your writing, but as you are not I shall render
you no assistance. ^^ He then lell me, apparent-
ly much chagrined. I confess I was not a
little surprised at the man's conduct, at his be-
ing so desirous to know if I was a mason, and
on finding I was not, treated me with so much
disdain and contempt. Reader, he belonged to
a party whose narrow benc/olence is confined
to their own narrow circle ! What a benevo-
lent institution is Free Masonry !

Failing to obtain help from this source, I

f ■I

^ ,

■r-i

■I

> i ^i

,t:;j

t II,

! ii :;i

'f'ii;f

138

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

wrote to my father, but as I never received an
answer, I know not whetlier he ever saw my
letter. My situation remaining so painful, and
seeing no hope of its being any better, I began
to think of making my escape. To effect it
from our room of confinement I saw was impos-
sible. I then turned my attention to another
spot, where the prospect was truly flattering.
Afler we had done our week's work, we had to
take our several portions into an upper garret.
In this garret were three windows, unprotected
by iron bars and of easy access upon the inside,
from whence we were told by the turnkey ,some
prisoners of the enemy made their escape, dur-
ing the American war. I used in my weekly
visits to this place, to open the windows and
look down upon the busy multitude below, and
sometimes would become so excited as to be
scarcely able to refrain from making the attempt
in open day. My plan was to secrete myself
among the oakum, and in the night, descend
into the street by the aid of a rope. Before it
could be accomplished however, it was neces-
sary to obtain the confidence of my fellow pris-
oners, and their consent to keep my absence
a secret from the turnkey, long enough for me
to make my escape. Accordingly I laid my plan
before them, upon which they promised to aid
me with their secrecy, though they thought me
ventursome in attempting it that way, as the win-
dow was four stories from the ground,and a tri-
fling mishap would be attended with the most
serious consequences. The next time we

;!l!:.(|

natmtuMmm''- '•'■"' " fq^

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

139

ved an
aw my
111, and
began
fleet it
impos-
mother
tering.
had to
garret.
)tected
inside,
y^,some
e, dur-
veekly
vs and
W, and
to be
ittempt
myself
escend
3 fore it
neces-
w pris-
bsence
for me
ly plan
to aid
jht me
le win-
i a tri-
e most
le we

carried our oakum, I was so successful during
the hurry of business as to secrete myself
among the lumber of the garret ; the rest of
the prisoners retired, and I fancied my self safe,
and sure to escape as soon as night should favor
me with darkness. Unfortunately, as the pris-
oners were going back to their room, an order-
ly prisoner who had the liberty of the yard,and
who assisted the turnkey in his duties, perceiv-
ed me to be missing from among the rest ; sus-
pecting the cause, he immediately returned to
the garret, and having the keys of that apart-
ment entered, and bade me come forward, for I
was in the most serious danger of being dis-
covered. I remained unwilling to yield, but
he continued to persuade me, and bid me for
my own safety to regard him as my friend.
Finding I was discovered, I came forward
from my retreat, and asked the cause of his
importunity. He replied, ^^ that having appre-
hended my design, he had come to dissuade
me from it, inasmuch as it would expose me to
death, should I fail, and bring him under repre-
hension for not keeping a close watch." He
added, '^ you may possibly make your escape
some other way, where I will not betray you,
nor will I mention the present affair. Afraid
of further discovery I retired to my room, much
disappointed, to meditate on some new and
more successful scheme.

My next attempt was as follows : Our
water was situated near the outer door of
the prison, from whence we had to get it

III

I' TM

i I

140

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

every day, in large wooden vessels. I saw it
was barely possible to rush by the sentry into
the street, and accordingly determined to make
the trial. I communicated it to my companions,
who, pleased with my resolution, jocosely ex-
claimed, ^^ get away if you can /" To aid me in
my purpose they agreed to appoint me their or-
derly, so that I should be able to select the
most favorable opportunity. To avoid suspi-
cion, I used to go without my hat, having secur-
ed beneath my pantaloons, an old woolen cap,
which I begged of a Frenchman, one of the
prisoners. One day going as usual after my
water, while filling my tub very deliberately,
the sentry, attracted by some novelty, turned
his head, when siezing the precious opportunity,
I sprang to the door, and was in the street, in a
moment, running like a race horse. Just as I
sprang through the door-way, the turnkey, im-
patient at our delay, came to the head of the
stairs,and stooping down to see what was doing,
discovered a pair of heels at the door, and sus-
pecting foul play, he rushed into the street be-
fore I had got ten rods from the gaol. I was
however, upon the full run, but the roads being
slippery, (it was in the early part of spring,
when the streets were covered with ice) and
my shoes dry, I made but little progress ; the
turnkey rapidly gained upon me, and with such
a stentorious shout, as he said, ^' stop that pais-
oner^^^ that alarmed me of his unwelcome ap-
proach. I ran with all possible speed, until by
slipping and tumbling, he came upon me, and

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

141

I saw it
ntry into
to make
panions,
jely ex-
id me in
their or-
lect the
d suspi-
g secur-
len cap,
e of the
ifler my
)erately,
, turned
jrtunity,
eet, in a
ust as I
key, im-
i of the
s doing,
and sus-
reet be-
I was
ils being
spring,
ce) and
ss ; the
ith such
lat pris-
)me ap-
until by
me, and

knocked me down with a blow, and then fasten-
ing a firm grasp on my collar, conducted me
back to the prison. Upon arriving at the pris-
on door, I found the guard had prepared them-
selves for a pursuit after me ; they manifested
the most angry feelings, the sentry especially,
was so infuriated that had he dared, he would
have run me through with his bayonet. A
large concourse of spectators had also assem-
bled from all quarters, among whom was the
gaoler, who dealt out a number of blows upon
my head with his fist, and pulled my ears most
shamefully, and ordered me to be put in irons,
and confined in the dungeon.

My place of confinement was opposite the
guard-house, and the soldiers amused themselves
with mimicking my sufferings ; which, togeth-
er with my miserable situation, so exaspera-
ted and excited my passions, that I shook my
irons, knocked it the door, and screamed with
such vehemence, that I became entirely ex-
hausted, and at last, ashamed of my conduct.
In the evening I was taken out of the dungeon,
and conveyed back to my room where I was
suffered to remain in irons a week.

The prisoners still continued to make the
most bitter complaints, until exasperated by
their continued misery, they formed a resolu-
tion to break out of the prison : an agreement
was made, by which all of us promised to abide.
The next question was, where to make the at-
tempt ; to break from our own room, seemed
to be a task ins^urmountable, and impossible,
on account of its being so near the post occu-

■ i

1 1
M

::^

142

LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON.

pied by the sentry. The room in which we
were ^rst confined, viz. the workhouse, offered
advantages far preferable to the one we occu-
pied, which made it a matter of importance for
us to gain possesion of it if practicable. This
could not be done without the consent of the
gaoler ; to gain this, we behaved ourselves in
the most unexceptionable manner, and having
ingratiated ourselves in his favor, we made our
request to be confined in the workhouse, as we
thought we should enjoy ourselves better, as in
eur present room we were in danger of sick-
ness, from the almost insuperable stench of the
privy. Supposing us sincere, he granted us
the privilege, as also the liberty of walking oc-
casionally in the yard. Our time being occu-
pied during the day in breaking stones, for
which we received one half penny per bushel,
we had but little spare time to mature our proj-
ect. Previous to commencing operations, wo
bound ourselves by oath, to stand or fall togeth-
er. In doing this, we chose an old man by
the name of Pireau for a justice, who was in-
ferior to none in administering the oath. Ho
was candid, deliberate, and solemn, obliging
each to repeat the words after him, and to kiss
the Holy Bible, (afler the English manner of
taking the oath) concluding with these words,
" I will agree to the design proposed, and in
every respect prove faithful, so help me God !"
We immediately proceeded to make prepar-
ations ; the old man was appointed chief in the
enterprise ; his plan was to cut away the bars

LIFE or W. B. LIGIITON.

143

hich we
}, offered
^e occu-
tance for
e. This
it of the
selves in
id having
nade our
se, as we
ter, as in

of sick-
ich of the
ranted us
liking oc-
ing occu-
tones, for
jr bushel,
our proj-
itions, we
ill togeth-
1 man by
10 was in-
ath. Ho
, obliging
id to kiss
lanner of
sse words,
;d, and in
^e God !"
ce prepar-
ief in the

the bars

of our window, as no other way seemed practi-
cable. To effect this, we sent out by one of
the visitors, and procured a knife and file ; the
knife however, was so thick and unfit for the
purpose, we had to take it, each alternately,
and rub it on a stone until it became fit for our
purpose. The old man, who was afterwards,
for his singular cunning, called the '^ old fox^^
made it into a saw, and hid it over a door, ready
for a convenient time. From our being so
strictly guarded by sentinels, it was difficult to
determine where to commence our operations ;
at length, we fixed on the window of^ the north
corner of the prison, which was the only place
where we could expect success. Close by this
window was the wall of the prison yard, which
rose about three ^Q^i higher than the window :
our intention was, to cut away the inner and
the outer bars, and then by means of a plank
we had procured for the purpose, mount the
top of the wall, and descend on the other side
by a rope attached to the remaining bars of the
window. As we wero so closely guarded by
sentinels, we were necessarily prevented from
prosecuting our scheme in calm nights, and
were obliged to select the wet and stormy,
when the sentinels would be taking the shelter
afforded them by their boxes. While our old
friend was employed in cutting the bars, the
rest of us were stationed as watchers round the
room to observe the least movement, and give
timely warning of the minutest sound. One
of our number was placed by the window,
14

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144

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

I ill

!■ I

next to the sentinel in the yard, having a string
in his hand, attached to one of the old man^s
great toes, which in case of alarm, was to bo
pulled as a signal for him to desist from his la-
bor. This, however, he soon had tied round
his ancle instead of his toe, for one of us hear-
ing some sound one night, gave the old man's
toe such an unpleasant jirk as almost drew him
from his post, and made him curse roundly for
the suffering it occasioned. While our plan
was in rapid progress we were interrupted by
an addition of one to our number ; as he was a
young and inexperienced boy, and confined for
one month only, we thought it best to desist un-
til his liberation, for fear he should betray us.
But by a casualty he discovered our design ;
and having frightened him half to death, and
bound him by a solemn oath not to divulge, wo
proceeded on our work. At length we had so
far succeeded, that another night would have
effected our escape ; as might be expected our
joy was great at the prospect of speedy liberty :
we fancied our troubles and sorrows were near
to an end. Under this happy feeling we pro-
ceeded with our day's labor, (breaking stones)
with cheerfulness, little suspecting a disappoint-
ment. About eleven o'clock in the morning,
we heard the turnkey enter our apartment and
order every one out of the room, saying, " / be-
lieve some of you are adopting some measttre for
escape ; J am come to see whether it is so or noty
He began by examining the beds; (we had then
one straw bed for each two) on coming to the

'f-

g a string
old man^s
^as to bo
tm his la'
ied round
f us hear-
old man's
drew him
[)undly for
our plan
rupted by
I he was a
>nfined for
desist un-
)etray us.
r design ;
death, and
vulge, wo
we had so
ould have
peeled our
dy liberty :
were near
ig we pro-
ng stones)
iisappoint-
3 morning,
tment and
ng, " / be-
easure for
so or not.^^
re had then
ling to the

LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON.

145

old man's and mine, (we were comrados) he
found our saw hid among the straw. He next
commenced a close examiation of the bars and
windows, and on coming to the one in which the
cut was made, as if aware that was the place,
he paid more than ordinary attention, and not-
withstanding the cut /as carefuUv filled up
with charcoal and tallow, he soon discovered
it, upon which he exclaimed, ^' ah, here it is ! 1
have found the place where th^y are hreoldng
away .'" Our feelings were unutter n>ly pain-
ful at this discover)) ; we looked on Jich other
with sorrowful hearts, that ou' b opes were ihus
once more blasted, and our expe^tatibns of de-
liverance from our misery cut off. We were
soon all collected togetner, and driven like
slaves into the dungeon ; and those who were
suspected as the worst, were immediately put
into irons : among whom was Mr. Pireau and
myself, as they supposed us to be the ring lead*
ers ; and when the keeper made the affair pub-
lic, we were published as such, although in re-
ality, we were no m«>re deeply involved than
the rest. After remaining for a number of days
in this situation, and when they thought we
had suffered enr ugh, a blacksmith was brought
to relieve us from our irons, and we were plac-
ed back into our old abode, viz. the noxious,
unhealthy room facing the back yard. The
old man however, suffered several weeks lon-
ger than the rest, through the cruelty of the
blacksmith ; for while taking off our irons, he
was so careless as to strike our legs, and oth-
14

i>i

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Mif

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146

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

erwise injure us by his brutality. The old
man loudly complained of such rough treat-
ment, and besought him to use him more gent-
ly ; whereupon, the unfeeling wretch became
more careless, and the old man still complain-
ing, he refused to take them off and left him ;
through which circumstance he wore them near-
ly a month longer.

I had now spent about sixteen months in my
dreary abode, when I heard that my regiment
was ordered home, and had arrived at Quebec
for the purpose of embarking. Upon this in-
formation, I fondly indulged a delusive hope
that I shoi^ld be released from my confinement,
and taken back to my regiment, and my
COUNTRY,where I might expect a discharge,
through the influence of my parents. Being
visited almost every day by the soldiers, I
made every possible inquiry respecting the
probabilities of my future fate, but could learn
nothing satisfactory. Desirous of improving
my opportunity, 1 petitioned the body of offi-
cers, humbly confessing my error, and solici-
ting their clemency and official influence in
setting me at liberty. A few days expired,
and Capt. Pierce came to visit me, and ad if 1
had not suffered half enough, he began to curso
?nd sware at me, like a man void of compas-
sion, on account of my crime. His unexpec-
ted and ungodly treatment struck me dumb, so
that I scarcely said ten words during the visit.
He told me the officers had received my peti-
tion, but that they could not assist me ; there-

The old
vh treat-
ore gent-
becamo
omplatn*
efl him ;
em near-

hs in m^
regiment
Quebec
i this in-
ive hope
inement,
and my
scharge,

Being
Idiers, I
ting the
ild learn
nproving
of offi-
id solici-
ence in
expired;
d ad if I
to curso
compas-
mexpec-
lumb, so
he visit,
my peti-

there-

LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON.

147

fore I must be content to wait the expiration
of my term of imprisonment. He then presen-
ted me with a dollar, saying, " / give you this
that you may apply it to your present necessities,^^
Upon this, I bowed and thanked him for his
kindness, and he left me. 1 could not help re-
garding this gift as a token of some remain-
ing tenderness, from one whose general appear-
ance and manners, bespoke a heart impregna-
ble to human suffering. I next wrote to the
Adjutant, who also visited me, and appeared so
kind and familiar, that I was freed from my
embarrassment, and talked freely about my
views and feelings. I gave him to understand
I had been informed, that in consequence of
having been delivered over to civil power, I
was no longer a soldier, as that act had absol-
ved me from sustaining any other relation, save
that of a civilian, and that as my discharge had
been given over to the court at my trial, it
must be given me at the end of my term of
imprisonment. He told me I was not dischar-
ged, as my name still continued on the military
roll, and that it was probable I should eventual-
ly be joined to some other corps.

This information tended effectually to dis-
courage me, and to cut off almost my last hope;
for I saw it was quite probable, I should be tri-
ed for desertion, after my imprisonment, and
perhaps be transported for life in some con-
demned corps. A few days previous to the
embarkation of the regiment, I wrote to Col-
9nel R. requesting an interview, (in conse-
14*

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1 ■■■'^..

;sn

ilk

l^»:v

148

LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON.

t ■

I'i

'il!

: ;.

^- t

quence of the death of Col. Andrews, who di-
ed in Kingston, this officer was now comman-
der of the regiment) he came, and to him I
humbly confessed my error, and implored his
influence to effect my release from prison and
restoration to the regiment. In answer, he said
his influence could do me no good, as he could
not procure my release ; if he could, it would
afford him pleasure to do it. He expressed
his sorrow at seeing my situation, and said he
hoped it would end in my good ; I next asked
him about my discharge ; he said I was still a
soldier, but not under their command, in con-
sequence of which, they must leave me behind,
the governor having power to do as his wisdom
should direct after my release. From this I
concluded that my days of happiness were past
and that I was doomed to sorrow and suffering
during the rest of my life. Before the regi-
ment left Quebec, all the foreigners were dis-
charged, so that they might have none but
British subjects under their command ; these
discharged soldiers rendered me some impor-
tant relief by their generosity ; for which may
they be rewarded in heaven !

Having failed in every attempt we had yet
made, our hearts were sunken, and we were
therefore miserable and unhappy, but still desir-
ous of improving every opportunity, in which
we could discover any hope of success : we
each seperatley joined to watch for our own re-
lief. Having now only one alternative, we
thought of improving that in hopes of gaining

who di-
omman*
him I
red his
ison and
he said
le could
t would
pressed
said he
xt asked
s still a
in con-
behind,
wisdom
)m this I
ere past
suffering
the regi-
i^ere dis-
ione but
I ; these
J impor-
ich may

lad yet
ive were
ill desir-
n which
3ss : we
own re-?
ive, we
gaining

MFE OF W. B. LIOIITOPS.

149

■Mi

our release, which was to petition to the gov-
ernor, and humbly implore His Excellency's
clemency in our behalf ; but of all the number
of petitions we sent, we received no answer or
assistance. Thinking we had now exhausted
every means within our power to gain our lib-
erty, or any relief from our misery, we delist-
ed from all further efforts and submitted our-
selves as patiently as we could to our wretched
and miserable fate. Hut we had not been long
in this state of gloomy despair before our hopes
were again lit up far brighter than evsr, inso-
much; that it exhilerated our feeble strength,
and made us think without a doubt our present
troubles and sorrows were near an end. 'J'he
circumstance was as follows. A ship of the
line had arrived in the harbor, the officers of
which visited the prison for the purpose of ob-
taining some able bodied men to go on board
for the service. The keepers of the prison
permitted us all into their presence, when they
asked us if we were willing to volunteer to go
on board a man of war, to which we all answer-
ed in the affirmative. They then proceeded to
take down our names, &c. telling us they
should send for us in a few days. But alas !
our hopes were soon disappointed in hearing
that they had sailed : — why or wherefore they
did not take us wc were never informed.

At length I obtained the confidence of my
keepers, who were so kind as to relieve me
from my continemei i. by taking me to act as
waiter for a gentleman confined for debt, which

; 4:

Ml!

't ;■■

•ill

,■^|
■:.f

' ■ if

iliil:

i .'I

ll IP il

IIT"

150

LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON.

'.1 :J

service procured me the liberty of the yard,
though I was still shut u^^ in my room at night.
In the mean time the prisoners contrived anoth-
er plan to attempt an escape, and notwitstand-
ing their former ill success determined to pros-
ecute it. The plan was at once hazardous and
cunning ; it was to descent the draught of the
privy, and follow up the channel, and coming
under the public street, to cut a hole through,
and escape. In taking this course, we had to
act with great caution, as we had to pass under
several draughts, directly by the gaoler's apart-
ment ; hence, if any had been visiting those
places, we must inevitably have been discover-
ed by our lights. As I had the privilege of
being out of my room every day, the prisoners
depended on me to procure them a supply of
candles to aid them in carrying on the scheme,
which I was fortunate enough to do, as I had
then a few pence by me, and being more will-
ing to support them in their plan, I denied my-,
self of the relief and comfort it would otherwise
have afforded, and bought of the gaoler (as he
kept a small store in the prison) all the lights
necessary for the accomplishment of their ob-
ject. To form come idea of the practicability
of the plan, Mr. Pireau o^«> id to decend and
reconnoiter, and ascertain the difficulties to be
surmounted. Accordingly a strong rope was
procured, and he, taking a firm grasp of the
end, was gradually lowered down to the bottom
of the draught, though with much inconveni-
ence on account of the narrow aperture. The

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

151

the yard,

I at night.

'ed anoth-

twitstand-

i to pro8-

rdous and

ght of the

I conning

through^

/e had to

ass under

»r's apart-

ing those

discover-

vilege of

prisoners

supply of

5 scheme,

as I had

nore will-*

snied my-.

otherwise

er (as he

he lights

heir ob-

ticability

end and

les to be

•ope was

p of the

e bottom

conveni-

•e. Th9

^^otd fox^^ soon returned, and shaking the rope,
was drawn up in triumph ; he declared nothing
could be more encouraging, as there was but
one obstacle in the way, which was an iron
grating formed of single bars directly under the
wall of the prison yard ; one of which, he said,
must be cut away in order to allow us to get
under the street. He jocosely observed, that
of all the ways he had been in his life, that was
the most foul and offensive ; and indeed well it
might be, as it was the common receptacle of
ill the prison filth, &c. Materials were soon
i>rocured for the purpose of cutting the bar,
which the old man soon effected. Desirous to
know something about the prospect before us,
and anxious to afford some assistance, in com-
pany with another prisoner, I descended, and
havmg spent a short time in examining the
point of attack, returned and reported my opin-
ion that it was practicable.

It was now agreed that all should descend,
as we did not intend making the hole until we
were all ready for a pop-out. One individual
declined accompanying us, as his health was
very feeble, and his time of imprisonment was
nearly expired ; he promised, however, to re-
main in his bed, until the turnkey should come
^o bring in the wood for our fire in the morn-
ing ; that upon discovery of our absence, he
would affect entire ignorance. Satisfied with
this promise, one evening afler the turnkey had
gone his rounds at nine o'clock, we descended,
nine of us in number, and proceeded up the

I i1

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152

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

■t,.

ll'V

channel. In coming to the narrow places be-
tween the draughts, we experienced great dif^
ficulty, as n great rain, which had recently fal-
len had filled up the channel, so that crawlinff
as we were obliged to do, on our hands ana
knees, we were in danger of suffocationi and
with all our efforts we could but just keep our
heads above the rapid current of filthy water
The prisoners were sadly disappointed at
having to endure such troubles, for they had
expected to be able to walk ;3rect, and without
difficulty ; they conseqently began to blame
and censure us most blasphemously for having
brought them into such a filthy hole. Some
were so unfortunate as to drown their lights and
were consequently involved in darkness, which
80 discouraged them, that they would have turn-
ed and gone back, but the channel was too nar-
row to afford them that privilege ; they were
therefore obliged to go ahead. The old man,
who was forward, and who kept his light burn-
ing, endeavored to encourage the rest behind
him, and in return for his courage, would re-
ceive oaths and curses. Indeed, the scene was
one of the most ludicrous that could well be
imagined : nor could I refrain from laughing
heartily, to hear the prisoners bewailing their
calamity as they toiled up the way upon their
hands and knees. We could not possibly avoid
getting wet all over ; this we had in a measure
expected ; and had consequently put on our
poorest articles of clothing, carrying the rest
in our bundles for a change. But notwithstand-

LIFE/)F W. B. LIGHTON.

153

>lace8 be-
great dif-
cently fal-
t crawlinff
tiands and
ition, and
keep our
thy water
)ointed at
they had
id without
to blame
for having
le. Some
' lights and
ess, which
have turn-
s too nar*
hey were

old man,
ight burn-
;st behind
would re-
scene was
lid well be

laughing
ling their
upon their
ibiy avoid

measure
it on our
V the rest
withstand-

ing all our efforts, our bundles became as wet
as ourselves, as we were unable to carry them
in our arms, but were obliged to drag them
along in the best way we could. The place
of operation was more spacious, and afforded
us a little relief from our toil and danger; there
we all stopped, expecting in a few moments to
breathe a purer air, and to enjoy the blessings
of liberty. I was then ordered forward to as-
sist the old man in preparing the excavation, as
only two of us could labor together. After la-
boring some time without the least sign of suc-
cess,the men became dissatisfied,and impatient,
when the following conversation took place :
" Well, are you almost ready ?" No, was our
reply. A few moments passed, and they in-
quired more earnestly : " Have you got the
hole made ?" We answered no. At which
they became more uneasy ; some swore, and
others blackguarded us f<3r being lazy. Again
they exclaimed, " Is the hole made now ?"
Again we answered no : " Well what is the
matter, don't you do any thing ?" Yes ! we
shall get through by and by, only keep still.
They now began praising us until their fit of
impatience came upon them, and they inquired
again,halloo there, old fox,what are you about ?
Is the hole made now ? We answered no, and
we are afraid we shall not be able to accom-
plish much, the water is so high, besides we
must have something with which to dig into the
wall. It may be observed here, that we had no
implement to aid us but the bar^ we had cut

Hl'il

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154

LIFE OF W. B. LTGIITON.

out of the grating, and the channel being wal-
led on each side, and overlaid with large tim-
bers, we could not make the least impression.
The prisoners again demanded if we were ready
to go out ; to which we replied, it was impossi-
ble to succeed that night ; and it was best for
us to return to our room, until the water should
subside, and we be able to procure some arti-
cle to aid us in forcing away the stones and
timbers.

Now commenced a scene the most infamous
and diabolical I ever witnessed in my life. On
account of our ill success, the prisoners became
extremely enraged, and cursed the old man and
myself for having brought them down into that
wretched filthy hole. They set up a most
hideous yell and pronounced curses enough
had they been heard, to have sunk them and
the draught into perdition. For my own part,
I heartily wished their heads fast stuck in the
filth, through which they were struggling, until
they learnt how to be silent. After regaining
the draught, we hailed the man, who remained
in the room, who lowered the rope, and drew
up the lightest of us, and then one after the
other, we ascended to our abode, wet and mis-
erable, where we had to cleanse, and hang up
our clothes to be put on wet in the morning. It
was well for us that the individual, who was
our main help in getting back into the room, re-
mained there, or we must have suffered, if not
some of us perished before morning.

After wringing out my clothes, I retired to

fjing wal-
arge tim-
ipression.
ere readv

3 impossi-
,s best for
;er should
iome arti-
ones and

; infamous
life. On
s became
man and
[ into that
3 a most
s enough
hem and
own part,
ck in the
ing, until
egaining
emained
and drew
after the
and mis-
hang up
ling. It
who was
'oom, re-
(d, if not

2tired to

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

155

bed \ where, having nothing but a blanket to
cover me, I passed the night, cold and shiver-
ing. In the morning, I arose and passed to
my duty without any remark made about my
appearance, and probably our attempt would
have remained undiscovered, had it not been
for the treachery of one of our number, who,
regardless of the solemn oath he had taken,
revealed the whole circumstance to the gaoler,
and turnkey, a short time after I had left the
room to wait as usual on the gentleman before
mentioned. No sooner were they informed of
the fact than they drove us all down into the
dungeon, where they examined us, to ascertain
who were the instigators and ringleaders of
the plot. As the old man and myself were
found guilty in the former case, so were we
condemned as the instigators of this plan, and
were consequently loaded heavily with irons.

While in this helpless situation, two of the
prisoners conceiving me to be the cause of their
being immersed in the dungeon, afflicted me
with the most violent abuse, and even robbed
me of my food. However, the night relieved
me from the company of these ungrateful
wretches, as they were taken back to their
room, while my comrade and myself were left
inmates of the dark, miserable hole ; but it
seemed less filthy after the others had been re-
moved.

As our irons were very troublesome, my old
comrade, with the help of a piece of iron, made
out to cut his in such a way, that he could put
15

I ri

156

LIPK OF W. B. LIGHTON.

them off and on at pleasure ; so that during the
day he would walk about the dungeon without
them, and sleep with them off at night ; but on
the approach of the turnkey, would put them
on again ; when one day the turnkey surprised
him before he had time to get them on, they
wero immediately riveted on more firmly than
ever.

Upon being restored back to my room, I re-
solved v/ithin myself, that I would never make
another attempt to escape in company with oth-
ers, inasmuch, as there were some, who would
be sure to betray, either from fear, or desire to
gain the approbation and favor of the officers of
the prison. It was only a few days af\er I had
been placed back in my room, that ome of tho
prisoners made another attempt to escape by
the same way. The turnkey had just gone his
round, when OiV? of them descended the draught
to examine the grating, &.c. when, in less than
five minutes, the keepers sprang in suddenly,
ana began their inquiries, by asking for old
Mr. P. and myself. Happily we were in bed;
but although we informed them of the fact,they
could hardly be persuaded that it was not us,
who had descended the draught, until the gaol-
er's wife came to our bed and assured them we
were indeed there. She appeared to be much
concerned about us, and would not be satisfied
with our answers ; but as the light was in the
hands of the turnkey, in another part of the
room, she felt the outside of the bed in order to
assure herself that we were there. She a^ked

■«?■

LIFE OV W. B* LIGHTON.

157

during tho
)n without
it ; but on
1 put them
r surprised
n on, they
firmly than

room, I re-
lever make
y with oth-
who would
>r desire to
! officers of
after I had
ome of tho
escape by
St gone his
ihe draught
n less than
1 suddenly,
ing for old
ere in bed;
le fact, they
was not us,
il the gaol-
ed them we
o be much
be satisfied
was in the
>art of the
in order to
She a!=ked

us if we had any hand in breaking out ; we tuld
her no, nor we never meant to be guilty of such
a crime again, so long as we remained in prison.

The poor fellow who had descended, was
soon taken out through a trap-door, when the
turnkey heat him most shamefully with a cudg-
el, and in a cruel manner drove him down to
the dungeon, where he was heavily ironed, and
kept for a considerable time. This circum-
stance had such an effect on the prisoners that
they abandoned all idea of liberation until their
time should bo expired.

As I had resolved to adopt the same resolu-
tion, I chought it best, while shut up from ac-
tive life, to devote myself to the improvement
of my mind, which would tend to prepare me
for future happiness. My means of improve-
ment were very small ; I had access to but very
few books ; however, I strove to improve some-
what in writing, arithmetic and drawing ; to
which studies I devoted every moment of lei-
sure I possessed. I soon found this course ef-
ficient to relieve rne of that insufferable prison
melancholy, of which I had heretofore been the
unhappy subject, and it proved ultimately to
pave the way for the unexpected and glorious
change I subsequently experienced.

About this time it happened, that a young
Englishman was committed to our prison for a
petty crime. He was well educated, and pos-
sessed a tenderness of manner, which rendered
him beloved by the prisoners. By a long train
of misfortunes he had become reduced to the

r'^

158

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

1 1

i i'

lowest state of degradation ; when, for the
ffratification of his sinful, and intemperate hab-
its, he committed the act which brought him
into prison. Young reader, what thmk you
was the first cause of this young man's down-
fall, and wretchedness — O ! it was cruel diso-
bedience to dear and affectionate PARENTS.
Nor was he the only instance among the many
that were under confinement ; some indeed,
could date their whole sufferings from the crime
above mentioned. O then, beware ! refrain
from the accursed evil, for it leads to every spe-
cies of wretchedness, and not unfrequently to
a deplorable and untimely death. Hear your
duty from the mouth of God upon this subject.
^^ Honor thy father and thy mother ; Oiat thy
days may be long upon the land which the Lord
thy God giveth thee.^^

But to proceed with my narrative : He had
not been here long, before we formed the most
intimate friendship, and as he loved reading, he
joined with me in my studies, and read every
book which he could obtain. Amonff many we
borrowed, was Bunyan's Pilgrim's I'rogress ;
a book to which we were both entire strangers,
as well as to the matter it contained. As my
young friend read, I used to sit and listen ; be
had not read far before I became truly enamor-
ed with the fascinating manner of the author.
In describing the Pilgrim's manner of leaving
the city of destruction (his native home) and
pursuing his heavenly journey through trials
and troubles, with the most minute circumspec-

LIFE OF W. 11. IJGIITON.

159

n, for the
aerate hab-
ou^ht him
think you
in's down-
cruel diso-
LRENTS.
; the many
16 indeed^
I the crime
i ! refrain
every spe-
quently to
iear your
is subject.
; Uiat thy
the Lord

He had
I the most
mding, he
sad every
many we
Vogress ;
trangers,
As my
sten ; he

enamor-
e author,
f leaving
>me) and

h trials
iumspec-

tion, I could not help feeling convinced that
that was the only way to heaven and happiness;
and I felt as if 1 must pass through the laver of
regeneration and become spiritually united to
our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, and by his
grace become obedient, in order to gain " ever-
lasting life ;" and in reading his account of the
pilgrim's losing his burden at the foot of the
cross,! could not but desire a similar happiness,
and wished that God would be pleased to re-
move the burden of my sins, as I felt the im-
portance and necessity of such a work. After
perusing this work and contemplating the hap-
py and triumphant end of the way worn pil-
grim, I became the subject of serious reflec-
tions, which produced the deepest convictions
for sin. At length Divine Providence opened
the way for the bringing about his merciful de-
signs towards me. We were visited by a Mr.
Archibald, a minister of the gospel, and anoth-
er gentleman, whose name I have forgotten, an
officer belonging to the Royal Engineer De-
partment. These gentlemen possessed a sweet-
ness of disposition, that I have never found ex-
cept in those who have the mind of their heav-
enly master Jesus Christ. Their piety was
deep and fervent : it shone conspicuous in their
deportment, and by their conversation and man-
ner it was evident they had been with Jesus.

Mr. A. used to take me aside, and with much

affection of manner strive to impress my mind

with the importance of a change of heart. He

faithfully warned me of my danger, he told me

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160

LIFE OP W. B. LIGIITON.

1 1' I

I was a sinner, at an almost infinite distance
from God, and that if I would be reconciled, I
must take the Lord Jesus Christ for my Saviour,
and repent of all my sins . But I felt like most
sinners, though under deep convictions, as if I
could not attend to his instructions thciiy but
thought I would after I was liberated, as at
present I was surrounded by what might em-

fhatically be called the devils oxen children, who
thought would ridicule me if I became relig-
ious. Thus did I, for a long time, drown my
tender feelin.q;s, and grieve the Holy Spirit; but
still I could not rest, for although 1 could resist
and grieve the Spirit, I could not resist convic-
tion ; it would follow me in spite of all that I
could do.

One afternoon I attended the prison chapel,
when we were addressed by a perfect stranger.
He was an elderly gentleman ; his dress was
that of an old fashioned Methodist preacher,
such as I had seen worn in England ; his pe-
culiar appearance ciltracted my attention, and
prepared me to hear with profit. His prayer
was fervent and powerful, and it seemed as if
he would not let go of heaven, until God had
blessed him, and his suffering auditory. While
praying for the prisoners, he seemed to carry
my peculiar case to the throne of grace, and I
felt my convictions increase so powerfully, that
I should have been pleased could I have got
away.

In his sermon, he showed Christ to be the
great sacrifice for sin ; ho pointed out the sin-

LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON.

161

te distance
conciled, I
ly Saviour,
t like most
ns, as if I
iheny but
ted, as at
might em-
Wren, who
ime relig-
Irown my
Spirit; but
>uld resist
st convic-
all that I

in chapel,

stranger.

^ress was

preacher,

his pe-
tion, and
is prayer
ed as if
God had

While

to carry

e, and I

illy, that

lave got

3 be the
the sin-

fulness of sin, and spake of its efiects in the
inost affecting and alarming manner. He then
Addressed himself to the prisoners, and showed
lis that all our sufferings, and loss of happiness
had been occasioned by sin, and then affection-
ately invited us to Christ ; urging the most
weighty motives to repentance and faith, and
pointing out their blessed effects. I could
not resist the eloquence of his pleadings ; my
heart was melted, so that I was barely able to
refrain from weeping.

At the close of the meeting, I went to the
venerable preacher, and taking him aside, said
to him. Sir, I am desirous to become a better
man ; I wish to be pious ; I am sensible I have
hitherto lived an enemy to God ; I ask your
council and your prayers, that your labor may
not be lost upon me, when I could refrain no
longer from giving vent to my feelings in a
flood of tears. With the deepest affection he
took me by the hand, and earnestly entreated
me not to stifle my good impressions, but sub-
mit to them, until they should be succeeded by
an evidence, that I wat born of God ; adding,
you must pray for mercy and pardon ; believe
in the Lord Jesus Christ ; confess your sins ;
forsake all your evil doings, and he will receive
>->u. I said, I could not pray, as I did not
know how. Said he, you can pray the Lord's
Prayer : I answered, I could, as I was taught
it by my parents when a child. He bid me use
that, and advised me to make it jmy models in
all my addresses to the throne of grace. He

iii,

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162

LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON.

i;i

'1 1

concluded by offering some advice about my
future conduct, and wishing that 1 might enjoy
the full fruition of God's love, left me to my re-
flections.

I was now in the deepest distress of mind
imaginable. I saw that God's holy law was
against me, and seemed to sink under an al-
most insupportable load of guilt. To enhance
my grief, I thought I should now, like Sampson,
have to make sport for the Philistines ; for my
companions were bitterly opposed to religion.
In this state of mind I remained for some time,
speaking to none about my feelings, except Mr.
A., to whom I circumstantially related all that
passed. He administered the best possible ad-
vice, and procured me books, suited to my con-
dition. One of these was speedily blest to my
advantage. It was called the ^' Prodis^aPs
Life,^^ and was the means of so increasing my
conviction that I had little rest, day or night.

During the time I was in this state of mind, I
generally was alone ; either reading, praying,
or walking the room in meditation. On one
occasion, thoughtlessly joining to walk the
room with those sons of Belial, they began to
talk of what they would do after they were re-
leased, and wanted to know if I would not join
them in their wicked plans : as they talked,
their feelings waxed hotter and hotter, until
they seemed ripe for the perpetration of their
diabolical schemes that very moment. Sud-
denly, I paused, and had such an overwhelm-
ing view of my sinfulness, and danger, that I

1 •?

LIFE OF VV. B. LIGHTON.

163

ibout my
ght enjoy
to my re-

! of mind
law was
er an al-
► enhance
Sampson,
J ; for my
• religion.
)me time,
xept Mr.
d all that
3sible ad-
my con-
es t to my

asing my
night,
f mind, I
praying.

On one
kvalk the
began to
were re-
not join
y talked,
er, until

of their
t . Sud-
rwhelm-
\ that I

was convinced I must either turn at once to God^
or be lost forever. Still I sought for an ex-
cuse, but my oppression increased ; I felt that
I must yield that moment, or be damned. It
seemed as if hell was open before me, ready
to swallow me up, and it appeared to me as if
in five minutes more I should be there, wailing
with the lost.

Thus overpowered by the spirit of God, I
left the company ; retired to my bedside, fell
on my knees, my sins appearing like mountains,
rising before me, where I prayed earnestly to
God, that he would have mercy upon my soul.
While I was praying one of the company came
into the room. It being dark, he stumbled over
my feet, which led him to exert himself with
his hands to prevent a fall ; at the same moment,
beginning to speak ; but he stopped short, as
soon as he found I was praying. After giving
vent to my soul in prayer, I felt my load of
guilt removed : the insupportable burden was
gone : I was refreshed, and thought I could
forever travel the heavenly journey without
growing faint or weary. I arose from my
knees like a new man : every thing around me
appeared different. Surely it was a new crea-
tion, by the grace of God, even the transfor-
mation of my soul from darkness to light, from
Satan to God. I was the possessor of new
feelings ; my soul was filled with the love of
God ; I loved my fellow prisoners though they
had done me injury, and could willingly do them
good. But a few minutes before, Ifelt as on

1,
1 1 1

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164

LIFE OF W. B. LTGIITON.

the verge of hell, and that the infiniteBeing was
displeased with me : now, I could feel that
Heaven smiled propitiously, and owned me for
an heir of its sacred bliss. O, blessed be God,
I felt redeemed from sin, and guilt, despair, and
misery — death and hell. The Lord Jesus
Christ was my advocate, and I was justified,
and pardoned by his precious blood. I was
now lost to the world, and alive only to praise
and thanksgiving. 1 walked my room in the
dark hour of night, transported with the light
of God's countenance. 1 could say,

" How divinely sweet are all thy ways.
My Boul shall sing thy wondVous praise,
The loudest notes of heavenly joy,
Shall all my life, my powers employ."

And again, I could say with adoring gratitude
for so great a deliverance,

"Where shall my wondering soul begin 1
How shall I all to heaven aspire 1
A slave redeemed from death and sin !
A brand, pluck *d from eternal fire !
How shall I equal triumphr^ raise.
Or sing my gre-t deliverer's praise V*

I retired to bed that night with a confidence
that whether I slept the sleep of death, or lived
till the morning, I was the Lord's. I awoke
full of rejoicing in the morning : heaven was
my all, and earth appeared a dream. My soul
was happy ; truly happy ; so much so, that it
ceemed as if the sky of my hope would never
be darkened.

On the return of Mr. A. I related to him my

IV.

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

165

eBeing was
id feel that
vned me for
3ed be God,
iespair, and
Lord Jesus
IS justified,
od. I was
\y to praise
room in the
th the light

g gratitude

confidence
th, or lived

I awoke
?aven was

My soul
so, that it
luld never

to him my

feelings. He asked me many questions, and
gave me much comforting advice, with a prom-
ise to visit me every week. My conversion
had a favorable impression upon my fellow
prisoners, so that we had peace generally.
They were mostly Catholics, though they gave
but little evidence of being christians. They
were saints, or sinners, by turns, just as matters
suited. Before their priests, they would con-
fess ; and on receiving absolution, feel as safe
as if there were no day of retribution, or no
God to judge. May God teach the reader the
religion of the Bible, and save him from such a
curse as Catholicism !

In this steady frame of mind, I enjoyed my-
self for some time, when some of the prisoners
commenced a system of persecution, that mar-
red, for a short season, my enjoyments. I re-
ceived it from those most opposed to every
thing that was good, which is generally the
case with those hardened in sin and iniquity.
Among other ways these sons of persecution
and folly took to injure me, was the following.
They reported to the turnkey, that I had con-
spired to mutinize — that my plan was to arm
myself with a cudgel, and as he came his round
at nine o'clock, to knock him down, take pos-
session of his keys, strip him of his clothes,
and put them on, and then liberate all the pris-
oners, and free myself from confinement. The
turnkey, imagining that there might be some
truth in this ingenious lio, actually prepared
himself for the onset^if any such thing should be

ri|

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166

LIFK OF W. B. LIGHTON.

attempted. When the hour arrived, he came
into the room, and inquired for me. 1 was in
the apartment where my bed was, quietly en-
gaged in my studies, and notwithstanding my
amicable engagement, he thus addressed me :
" I understand, Lighton, you are calculating tu
mutiny — to knock me down, take my keys and
clothes, and escape with the rest of the prison-
ers." He now became enraged, and swore
like a maniac : holding v:p his bunch of massive
keys in my face, he declared he would beat my
brains out with them, if I dared to attempt any
such thing. I was so surprised at this unlock-
ed for address, that I scarcely knew how to
speak in vindication of my innocence. At length
I made out to tell him, that such a thought
never entered my head ; that I was disposed to
be quiet, and harmless, and should continue so,
until the day of my release. This plan of the
devil and his agents, greatly troubled my soul;
but by Grod's grace, I was naabled to endure it.
Upon mature reflection, the turnkey was con-
vinced that the report of the prisoners was a
lie, got up only to injure me ; so that I was
justified, and they, in turn, condemned. Thus
the devil was caught in his own snare. The
grace of God which I had obtained, enabled me
to indure the suftt rings incident to my situation,
with less impatience, and consequently freed
me from much uneasiness and inward trouble .
By degrees I grew bolder in recommending re-
ligion to my comrades, and as I often interfered
to prevent their jars and quarrels, they distin-

^■ym..

he came
I was in

lietly en-
nding my
3sed me :
Lilating to
keys and
le prison-
ad swore
f massive
I beat my
empt any
3 unlook-
' how to
A.t length

thought
sposed t6
itinue so,
m of the
my soul;
sndure it.
yas con-
rs was a
I at I was
Thus
■e. The
ibled me
ituation,
ly freed

trouble .
iding re-
iterfered
y distin-

LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON.

167

guished me by the name of ^^ peace maker. ^^
One of our number, whose name was John
Hart, became the subject of the most powerful
awakening, from the following circumstance.
His comrade, whose name was Robinson, (these
were the persons that so abused me, and robbed
me of my food, when in irons in the dungeon)
had been released from prison, and soon afler,
engaged to rob a house. He fell from the roof,
and was so injured that he died. Hart, on
hearing the news, was filled with fear and con-
sternation : he trembled as if he had received
his death warrant. Such was the horror of his
soul that he thought he was dying ; and reques-
ted me to send for ]V!r. A. 1 accordingly wrote
him a line, but before he arrived, the poor fel-
low had in some measure, recovered from his
anguish. He promised, however, if God would
spare his life, he would live better, and no more
do as he had done. He maintained this reso-
lution a few days, and then returned to a course
of sin and forgetfulness of God, and I am sorry
to add, that aftar his dismission from prison, he
engaged in robbing a French church, and fin-
ished his career upon the gallows. What an
awful lesson does this teach us ! Reader, are
you grieving the Holy Spirit of God, by which
you are enlightened, and made meet for the
heavenly kingdom ? O, how careful should we
be to follow its sacred teachings, lest we grieve
it once too much, and then lose our precious
souls !

Being desirous of informing my parents of
16

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168

i.irn or \r. n. lioiitox.

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my situation, and tlio happy change I had ex-
perienced, I wrote thcni a letter, informing
them of nil that had hcfallen me. I placed it
in the hands of I\lr. A. who engaged to forward
it for me the first opportunity ; but I never re-
ceived any answer in return, which still kept
me under very unpleasant feelings, from the
same fears as mentioned before.

At length the gentleman who came as com-
panion with Mr. A. was called by Divine
jProvidence to leave Quebec. Before his de-
parture, he came to pay us his last visit, which
proved to be an interesting and profitable sea-
son. After having given us much good advice
and fervently commended us to God in prayer,
he took us each by the hand and aftcctionatcly
bade us farewell. It was the most interesting
season I ever witnessed; every eye was drown-
ed in tears, and every heart full, and as he left
us, wo wished the blessing of those, who arc
ready to perish, might be upon him.

Not only did the Lord impart the blessing of
his grace to my soul, whereby 1 was able to
Bay :

Through every period of my life,

Thy goodnestj I'll pursue ;
And after death, in distants worlds,

The pleasing theme renew.

Through all eternity, to thee

A grateful song f'll raise.
But O ! eternity 8 too short,

To utter all thy praise,

but he opened a door whereby I was relieved
from some of my temporal afflictix)ns. The

I I had ex-
informing
I placed it
to forward
I never re-
h still kept
^, from the

le as corn-
by Divine
)re his de-
'isit, which
fitable sea-
ood advice
in prayer,
bctionately
interesting
ivas drown-
d as he left
e, who arc

blessing of
ivas able to

as relieved
ons. The

LlFi: OF VV. n, LlGllTON.

169

gaoler, discovering my integrity and desire of
usefulness, employed me to mark the prison
bedding, clothes, &,c. by doing which, I occa-
sionally obtained the liberty of the yard. It
w as soon aflcr proposed to establish a school
in the prison, fur the benefit of the illiterate and
entirely ignorant, and by the advice of Mr. A.
I was chosen to instruct in English, and a
young man of suitable talents was appointed to
teach the French language. To encourage us,
they promised to reward us liberally, if we suc-
ceeded in gaining their applause. We com-
menced our new work by prayer, in presence
of Mr. A. and the committee, which was cho-
sen to superintend its operations. Our success
was such as to call forth the unqualified appro-
bation of the committee, who were highly grat-
ified at the progress we made. While engaged
in the school, I had the sum of four dollars
sent me, by my worthy friend, Mr. W. of Mon-
treal, which proved of great service, as I had
not received any thing fur my labors in teach-
ing, and was in consequence thereof, under de-
plorable circumstances. But thank God he
was mindful and merciful toward me, in that he
was pleased to relieve me in an hour, when I
most needed it, my soul could say,

"Behind a fiowninnf Providence
He hides a smiling face."

As I stood in need of provision, I sent out
and purchased a whole sheep, (dressed) some
peas, &,c. The man just arrived wivh it as Mr.
A. came to visit the school. Not designing he

, I

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170

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTOX.

should know it, I hastened to secrete it in a cell
in the room, but his eye being too sharp for
me, he caught sigut of it, and supecting by the
bustle something was on foot, his curiosity led
him to look into the cell, where, to his surprise,
he saw the whole carcass of a sheep placed up
in one corner. Turning from the cell, he ask-
ed me whose it was, I told him it was mine.
"Well then," said he, "you mean to live well I
see." Indeed, this circumstance had a bad ef-
fect upon his liberality, as neither my comrade
nor myself ever received any renumeration for
our trouble. They thought we lived well
enough without it. Upon the approach of
spring, our school closed, through the neglect
of the prisoners, when the committee thought it
advisable to close it for the season. No one
having any thing against my character, the
keepers said nothing to mc about returning to
my close room, but still permitted me to enjoy
the liberty of the yard.

Things were in this situation, when a French
gentleman, named Moruia, by profession a doc-
tor, was committed to prison, though unjustly,
for six months. This gentleman soon became
my friend, and as he occupied a private room,
succeeded in gaining the consent of the gaoler,
for me to room with him ; which circumstance
made me comparatively happy. I saw the fin-
ger of Providence evidently at work in my be-
nalf, and began to indulge a hope that circum-
stances would soon conspire to favor my escape.
While with the doctor, he cured me of a can-

' 1

►IV.

te it in a cell
oo sharp for
cting by the
curiosity led
lis surprise,
p placed up
Jell, he ask-
was mine.

live well I
id a bad cf-
ny comrade
neration for

lived welJ
pproach of
the neglect
5 thought it
1. No one
racter, the
eturning to
ne to enjoy

n a French
ision a doc-

1 unjustly,
>n became
^ate room,
the gaoler,
cumstance
iw the fin-
in my be-
at circum-
Tiy escape.

' of a can-

LIFE 01' \V. B. LIGHTON.

171

cer, which for some time had filled me with
alarm, and threatened me with early dissolution.
He also gave me some clothing, which togeth-
er with what I received from the jail made mo
quite comfortable in that respect.

The providence of God still worked in my
favor, and caused my heart to leap with inward
joy. I was again taken into employ by the
gaoler. His bo whom he employed as ser-
vant, left him, i-Uid as he wanted another to
take the immediate charge of his horses, that
were stabled within the walls of the prison yard,
he pitched on me to supply that vacant place.
I had not lived in this situation a week, before
I discovered a possibility of making my escape,
and having the highest confidence in the Doc-
tor, I mentioned it to him, for his consideration,
who, transported with so favorable a plun, cau-
tioned me to keep it a profound secret, and
when the propitious moment arrived, he would
abscond with me, merely tor the sake of making
my escape complete. Meanwhile he began
sending out his library to a friend in the city ;
but this excited no suspicion as his time was
nearly expired.

Before 1 proceed further, I will just mention
the principle existing in the bosom of the Doc-
tor, that influenced him to this philanthropic
and benevolent act. It was that he had a sin-
cere and friendly regard for my happiness.
To use his own words, he said : " When I
think of your situation, the misery you have to
euffer, and very probably will have to undergo
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172

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

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all your life, from the fact that you are a desert-
er from the army, the punishment for which,
you have no hope, under the circumstances it
was committed, of its being any other than
transportation for life, which to me, is the most
miserable I can possibly conceive. And again,
when I take into consideration youi tender
youth, and the probability of your future use-
fulness, both to yourself and the world, could
you be free, I forbid declining so noble an act,
which I well know will be the final means of
your deliverance from all your present and fu-
ture misery — and will restore you to liberty and
happiness. With these feelings I sacrifice all
regard to future consequences, for your happi-
ness, and should I be taken for my escape, I
shall have the pleasure and satisfaction to know
you are free, and that my memory is cherished
ttt your affections for the ad.^^

In regard to the propriety of escaping, my
feelings were somewhat delicate, but the idea
of being ultimately transported, operated like
a goad to urge me on to the attempt ; and me-
thinks every candid reader will justify the act.

As it was my business to take care of the
horses, I had access to the south garret of the
prison, to get their grain, which garret was
close by the room where we lived. My plan
was to secure the keys of this place, and by
the aid of a rope descend from the window to
the street, it being unsecured by iron bars.
The Doctor had prepared every thing for our
exit and we only waited to obtain possession

' i

tIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

173

df the keys. It happened one evening, that
beine in want of grain for my horses, I went to
the Kitchen, as usual, where the keys were
kept, and found no person there except a little
girl about twelve years of age ; I took them
from their place and passed out unobserved,
went up to the garret as quick as possible, and
got my grain ; the Doctor and myself obser-
ving where was a long stout rope, and in leav-
ing the garret, lefl the inner door unlocked,but
to prevent suspicion, fastened the outer door as
usual. This done I secured the keys in my
own room ; went down stairs and attended
to my duty iii the stable, and returned to my
apartment without exciting the least suspicion,
in the breasts of any. How did my heart flut-
ter at the idea of the prospect before me ! How
anxious did I feel for the success of my enter-
prise ! How impatient for the hour of attempt!
Every thing was tranquil through the even-
ing ; at nine o'clock the turnkey came his usu-
al round ; he entered our room, and looking
round, wished us good night, and retired.
We now fancied ourselves secure, which pro-
duced in us the highest feelings of animation.
About ten o'clock we were suddenly alarmed
by the turnkey, whom we heard unlocking the
doors which shut across the passage, leading to
our room. Terrified, and fearful we were dis-
covered, wo threw our half prepared bundles
under the bed, and sat apparently deeply enga-
ged in study, waiting the event. However, it
proved to be nothing more than the arrival of a

li'i. ' ■■

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174

LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON.

new prisoner, who was placed in an adjoining
room, by the turnkey, who just came into ours,
and bidding us a second good night, left us
without suspecting our design.

Not feeling disposed to sleep, we spent the
night watching for the moment which was to
free us from the gloom of the prison. Every
thing remained perfectly silent, except the city
watchmen, who occasionally pronounced their
"o// is well,^^ as they passed from beat to beat,
an expression which truly accorded with our
feelings. At four o'clock, just as the dawn of
day was making its appeai-ance in the eastern
sky, the watchmen left their several posts ; and
we then conceived, at this propitious moment,
while darkness overspread the face of nature,
and kept man lulled in his slumbers, we should
be able to leave the city unobserved. Having
secured our bundles, we proceeded to unlock
the door of the garret, which we did with but
little noise ; we next secured one end of our
rope to a brace, but in dropping it by the
eaves (for the window stood in upon the roof)
it made considerable noise, as the roof was
covered with tin. We paused a moment to as-
certain if we had alarmed the sentry, who was
in the yard at no great distance ; happily, we
had not. After dropping the rope I was so
transported with the prospect before me, and
fearing my bundle would occasion some diffi-
culty, I told the Doctor I would leave it for the
reason assigned ; he urged me by all means to
take it, but without any further words, I seized

II'

adjoining
into ours,
t, left U3

spent the
ch was to
I. Every
►t the city
iced their
it to beat,
with our
J dawn of
le eastern
osts ; and
; moment,
)f nature,
we should
Having
to unlock
1 with but
nd of our
it by the
the roof)
roof was
ent to as-
, who was
ippily, we
I was so
3 me, and
ome diffi-
it for the
means to
, I seized

'i i

m-^^t

its'

;r'i •"

ESCAPE FROM PRISON.

\ r

LIFE OF W. B. UGHTON.

175

the rope and was quickly in the street below,
where I retired a short distance to await my
companion. He was somewhat longer in de-
scending, as he was unwilling I should lose my
bundle: he encumbered himself with it. Thus
burdened, he had but one hand at liberty to
descend with ; ho had however, contrived to
place the rope between his feet, but unfortu-
nately, in turning the eaves of the building, it
slipped from his legs and he had to descend the
distance of four story, with one hand only.
The suddenness of his descent fired his hand
before he got half way down, so that he came
near falling, and in consequence of which, it
was useless for some time afterwards. Thus
were we providentially delivered from the
gloomy confinement of a prison, in which I
had been confined, for two years and two
months, and where I had suffered in the most
distressing manner. To that holy and ever
merciful Providence,that supported me through
the whole, be ascribed ceaseless and everlast-
ing praises !

CHAPTER V.

An account of his life and trials, from his escape from impria-
onment,to his arrival in the United States.

There is a peculiar sensation, which the
mind feels when it is relieved of its weight of
trouble, which none but the subject himself can

1'*

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176

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

'i:ij

i'^

1 ,:

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m 1 !

^ilil

realize. It was so in my case. I felt it through
my whole soul. The happiness I felt from fin-
ding myself freed from confmement, is beyond
either the power of my tongue, or pen to de-
scribe. It can only be painted upon the imag-
ination of my readers, but never really felt but
by myself.

After my companion had joined me, and de-
livered me my bundle, which was what I did
not expect, we proceeded out of the city with
great speed, the Doctor taking the lead, and
pursuing the course he thought best and safest.
We soon passed the gate at the back of the
city, unobserved by any, or without hearing
the least cause for alarm. We next crossed a
river, which at this date, the 25th day of April,
182d, was passible by teams While crossing
the river, the Doctor, who was a devoted Cath-
olic, fell on his knees, and thanked Providence
who had protected us and favored our escape.
For my own part, though I felt equally grate-
ful, I was too afraid of discovery to stop as did
my companion, but as I proceeded, praised
God and jumped for joy. Indeed, I scarcely
knew what to do through animation of feeling,
sometimes I would hurry the Doctor to the
run, but being consideraby advanced in years,
he could not run far before he was obliged to
moderate his speed into a walk ; then I would
take to the run myself, and beckon him to speed
on ; at other times I would jump, talk, laugh,
and sing, as if I had been beside my reason.

The Doctor thought it best for us to go down

■<■

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

177

t through
from fin-
is beyond
en to de-
the imag-
Y felt but

;, and de-
/hat I did
city with
lead, and
nd safest,
ick of the
it hearing
crossed a
T of April,
3 crossing
ted Cath-
rovidence
ir escape,
lly grate-
top as did
praised
scarcely
)f feeling,
tor to the
I in years,
obliged to
n I would
n to speed
ilk, laugh,
reason,
o go down

the St. Lawrence, among the population of
French inhabitants, as there was no news in
circulation that way, and because our pursuers
would not suspect us of taking that route ; but
would naturally suppose we had gone towards
the United States. As it was yet between
day-light and sunrise, we pursued our way as
speedily as possible, until we came to a piece
of woods, where we had a view of the city and

firison. We remained some time viewing the
atter place, and conjecturing what would be
the feelings, and language of the keepers,when
they found we had been prison keepers during
the past night, and that we had opened the
doors and window and fled. Indeed, the con-
clusion was so extatic, that it drew from us fits
of loud and hearty laughter. The forest song-
sters now commenced their sweet reviving notes
of praise, and all seemed to return thanks to
the great Creator for our deliverance. O ! how
delightfully grand was this hour, it tru^y resem-
bled the hours I used frequently to paiy» in the
groves, when with my dear parents at home.
It begat sentiments of filial gratitude, and a
desire that I might again breathe the salubri-
ous air of my native clime.

We were intending to remain in the woods
all day, and travel in the night, until we had
got some distance from the city, but the cold
having such an effect upon us, we were under
the necessity of travelling in order to keep our-
selves warm. We accordingly pursued our
course across the fields, into the back country ,
17

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178

LIFE OF W. n. LIGHTON.

which travelling was beautiful and easy, as we
walked on the hard snowy crust. To prevent
suspicion on the part of those we might meet,
the Doctor resolved to travel in the practice of
his profession, and I was to act in the capacity
of servant. At noon we partook of dinner in a
French family, which was the first social meal
I had eaten in a house since I left England.
Towards night we came to a bye-place, where
we both joined in humbh prayer to Almighty
God, giving him thanks for his goodness, and
soliciting his protection in future. In this ex-
ercise, our souls were encouraged and refresh-
ed, and our confidence in God increased. Wo
then sought a house^ and having found one, we
put up for the night.

The next night we arrived at one of the Doc-
tor's friends, where we remained over the next
day and right, and though he was aware we
had been prisoners, having visited the Doctor
during his confinement, he had no idea we had
run away, but supposed us to be regularly dis-
charged, the reverse of which we were careful
he should not learn from us.

From this place we proceeded to St. Anns,
where was a Roman Catholic Church, which
was held in high estimation by the French.
Having heard much of this place from the pris-
oners, while at Quebec, I proposed to visit it,
to which my companion assented. To give the
reader an idea of the gross superstition of these
people, I shall give a true account of the char-

" J

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTOX.

179

acter of this noted church, and what the people
themselves believe respecting it.

St. Ann, as I was informed by the prisoners,
and also by my companion, is much regarded
as sacred, among the French Roman Catholics,
as a place possessing great healing virtues.
Such is their faith in St. Ann (after which saint
this church is named) that if any of her wor-
shippers enter the church lame, mutilated, or
sick, and by having faith in her efficacy, she
will restore them to iheir original state of health,
and bodily perfection.

In ascending the ii^teps of the building, the
Doctor, as is customary, knelt down crossed
himself, and said a few words of prayer, while
I stood gazing with a kind of superstitious awe
at the sacred edifice. Upon entering, the first
object that struck my attention was a number
of crutches, wooden legs, staves, &c. hung up
in regular rows, as evidence of the cures which
had been wrought by the power of St. Ann.
As I stepped in, I trembled, as I had never
been within a catholic church before ; looking
to the right, I observed an imitation of the
blessed Saviour, nearly as large as life, hang-
ing in a relaxed posture on the cross, besmear-
ed with blood ; the image, or painting of St.
Ann, and other saints. This sight produced in
me feelings of the most solemn kind, and I fell
upon my knees and prayed, not to the images,
but to him who died upon the cross for the for-
giveness of my sins. O ! when will superstition
and heathenistn be done away ? May God grant

'i J

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m
hi
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180

LIF£ OF W. II. LKiilTON.

that the light of truth may soon dieperse theie
clouds of error !

But I cannot forbear mentioning one more
■uperstitious act of worship, out of the vast
many, that are found among those people ;
and that is their cross omage. It will be un-
derstood that among them they have at ev-
ery short distance, a cross erected by the
side of the road, and on passing them, the
devotee of the Roman Catholic religion pulls
off his hat, crosses himself, and repeats over a
short prayer, some even kneeling down at the
foot of them. On these relics of catholic su-
perstition are frequently seen the various arti-
cles, used at the crucifixion of the blessed Sa-
viour, placed along in order, on the transfixed
beam, or cross piece, together with the cock
that crotved at Peter's denying his Lord and
Master. Reader, how different is this from the
mild and simple gospel of Jesus ! O, look at
Popery ; see it in its effects. It darkens the
page of revelation ; spreads ignorance and
confusion throughout society ; and with its un-
paralleled tyranny, and bloody inqusitions, robs
man of his dearest liberty and rights ! May
we feel thankful for the gospel, which teaches
us the sound principle of a religion, unadorned
with Popery !

The Doctor's profession aflibrded him ample
means of support, as he seldom visited a house
without doing something for the family, and re-
ceiving money in return. Aflcr traveling with
bim, in this manner for a week, I resolved to

erae theie

one more
' the vast
3 people ;
ill be un-
ivQ at ev-
d by the
them, the
igion pulls
ats over a
wn nt the
itholic su-
rious arti-
Icssed Sa*
transfixed
the cock
Lord and
8 from the
O, look nt
irkens the
ince and
ith its un-
ions, robs
s ! May
1 teaches
jnadorned

Ml'K OF W. IJ. IJCillTON.

]81

1^?

im ample
)d a house
y, and re-
eling with
esolved to

Icavo liiiii, and oht.iiti hoiiic (Miiiiloyinent. lie
at first disHuadcd mo, but finding inn roBolvcd
and decided on llii.s point, ho directed hi!4 atten-
tion to procuring me a situation. 1 determin-
ed however, (irst to elmnirci my name, the bet-
ter to avoid detection. The name 1 chose to
ossuine was 'i'homas Kllencourt.

The next <lay coming to a hirjjro farm, in the
parish of St. Joachin, about thirty miles below
Quebec, my coinpanion inquired it' they wanted
to hire ; and after some conversation, and abun-
dance of recomrnondiitioM, from the Doctor, I
agreed to work lor tlie gentleman tor tiileen
sliiliings per montli. My wages were compar-
atively small, but it will be observed, that it was
rather out of the scuison to hire at that time,
and beside, be engaged me more out of charity
than from any thing else. It will be observed
also th'it the best of hired bands, among this
people, could get no more than lour dollars per
month 'J'he bargain being made, 1 accompan-
ied the Doctor a short distance, when after
promising to see me again in about two months,
if nothing happened to prevent, bade me an af-
fectionate farewell.

My master set me to chopping wood,at which
I made a very awkward appearance, and but
little progress, as it was the first time I ever
engaged in such business. JNIy delicate ap-
pearance induced them to set mo about lighter
work, such as assisting in the dairy, milking,
Slc. After living with them about three weeks
I grew uneasy, aa I had no one to converse
17*

« I

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</>

rj?/F OF M. u, Lr(;H'j():\.

' 'I

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■f :;!i

with in iny own tr.!)gue, except an old Eng-
Ushmr.p., who had in early lli'o !icoii a soldier^
but \v!io, tVom thiify years residence with the
Fren.'h, had ahr.ost erltir^?ly lost the use of his
ov>n lnni;iK}.fi^o.

The iiimilv wero ri^nd ':atho)ics. and required
of ')]'. tVioir domcotifvj. the strictest conffjnnity
to the outward ruhii dT (iu'ir religion. My
fcoh.\}[^H wci'Q soi'iowh:)! niortitied the flr.^t time
I cnter.'jn tavir church, beini,^ a perfect Htran,<Ter
to all tiieir puternosters and eercnionie.s, 1 en-
tered tlieir church, na - h:id been wont to do
my own, with out nny rcij-ard (o titeir rules and
curitorn:>. Tjiis conduct prodi^ced an univer-
sal tiUerin'j: amonrif (ho«e who obscu'vcd rny
m-'uirjcr ; rnicinG: invseit' tlie s-ubicct oi' their
laur,}>ler, 1 booked iiround to divine tiie cruise,
wlien I fiiw lh«t eacdi individual, a.s he entered^
dipped his hnf^er into a basin of water, and
crosfscd himself with it, fell on his knees, and
repeatet) a prayer iii a niumbHng manner ;
from this time, thou>2;h somewhat i^aJiinji; to my
fcelinnsj i followed their example, and ever at-
ter pasFied among them for a catholic.

I rnif^c^'t relate muvcli of the peculiar charac-
ter of this people, but it would be rjtcppm^:; be-
yond the design oi' this work. Suffice it to
say, they v.'cre extremely ignorant, know'inj[^
but little about ihcrnselvea, or God. Tbev
went to their worship like saints, and acted likf*
devib upon their retuiT:.. I hj,ive ovfizi knowr:
•hern, to hold a vcr?due at the church doors after
^i^?^vice. on the holy Sabbath, hnd the priest him

M :

1 inil Eng-
in a soldier,
jc'j witln the
J use of his

M'l required
conformity
igion. ]Mj
e first time
?ct Htran,<Ter
>!iicK, 1 en-
wont to do
V rules and
an nni ver-
se rvcd my
ct oi* their
tlie cniiije,
he entered J,
water, and
knees, and
raanner ;
iiing to my
nd ever af-
ar charac-
cpping be-
ffice it to
I, knowini^
"•d. 'i'hey
! acted likf*
ven knowfj
doors after
priest hirA

I.C'E OF W. i\. lt(;ht<>n.

183

«;:J

self vtudd l)e a bidder. Sporting, eddlinp,
dancing, kc. vrere their chiet' iJ»i:usemrats, af-
ter the 3oiemnities of ihe Holy d^y. I could
find no commoii sclioohi anioui:^ tliem, and noth-
ing tliat indicated cither enterprise, or intelH-
grnce, not one out of twenty could eitlier read
or write. But, snys tlie uriinformed reader,
how came they in thus i^it'iatir>!i ^ Why I will
fceli you, it id ju.<^ lici'f . ll is the geriiu.s of po*
pcrv to keep all ilf^ Muhicets as i^rnorant as thcv
can. And Vvdiy : Boea.use, like its sister r^j-
pOiismy it can only !!xist wijorc thi.^evil predom-
inates ; theretore, ihey are 'leterjnined to keep
Uiciv sub/jccts ignorant.

Now s.'iouhi inlellip^cnce spread among them,
they would soon cease to be, it woidd indeed,
be the greatest cirrsc they could experience.
This is too plam und evident, from the fact, that
they will not allov/ tlieir subjects the proper use
of iiu) Bible, but all must believe what their
priests say, whom they believe, together with
the pope to be infallible. How easy then to
lead such a people astray ! A few words more
and I Will delay the reader no longer, and that
is, IGNORANCE is incompatible with the
SPIBIT of LIBERTY, It is rank poison in
the bowels of any nation professing republican-
ism. As a free republic we are hound to c/fs-
stntinair i.nticlligen'ce by every means withie.
bur power, or we shall experience a deadly stab
iipon the liberties of thi« nation. The proiop*
Crisis I alls upon our ?u?entian, and bids us to
foe awake u> our interest. T\\r- r.-iiglity tiood of

.'31
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184

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

1-4

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catholic emigration is threatening us with alarm,
and the design of EUllOPE is not less to be
dreaded. 'J'heir pretended philanthropy, in
sending over their priests and money, "to in-
struct," as they say, *'the ignorant Americans,"
are omens of a great and malignant evil. Their
intentions are not to benefit us ; no, they would
rather destroy us ; "and it is one of the appen-
dages of the moral engine, destined to revolu-
tionize the nation, and subjugate it to the con-
trol of the triple crown. As confirmatory evi-
dence to this, we will quote their own words,
which they probably never intended should be
brought to America ; but as we have them we
will use them. They are taken from the An-
nals of the Association for propagating the Ro-
man Faith, a French periodical. Speaking of
Popish schools, &.c. in the United States : —
"These establishments do wonderful good.
Catholics and Protestants are admitted indis-
criminately. The latter, after having finished
their education, return to the bosom of their
families, full of esteem and veneration for their
instructresses, (i. e. the nuns) and often, when
they have no longer the opposition of their rel-
atives to fear,they embrace the Catholic Foi^/i."
This discloses the whole matter. They have
come to happy America, to make Catholics of
her sons and daughters ; to subject the nation to
the dominion of the tyrants of Europe ; to bring
down REPUBLICAJ^ banners ; to take away
all human Hghts, and to sweep the last vestage
of civil liberty from the American Continent .'"

ith alarm,
less to be
iropy, in
"to in-
ericans,"
l^il. Their
ey would
le appen-

revolu-
) the con-
itory evi-
n words,
should be
! them we

1 the An-
? the Ko-
daking of
States : —
111 good,
ted indis-
g finished
n of their
1 for their
en, when
their rel-
Ic. Faith.''
^ey have
tholics of

nation to

to bring

ake away

t vestage

^inent /"

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

185

May every American who is a devoted friend
to his country, awake ; and rise up in defence
of his unalienable rights ; and may God pre-
serve the liberty and happiness of our nation,
and save us from all foreign invasion, and from
the evils with which wcj as a people, are so
alarmingly threatened ! But I forbear, and
humbly beg pardon of the reader for digressing
so far from the main subject. As an apology
for so doing, I would say ; my own experience
of the evil upon which I have treated, and my
ardent desire for the general peace and happi-
ness of the nation, are the feelings that have led
me to this deviation. But to return to my nar-
rative.

The unsanctified conduct of this people, to-
gether with my own indecision, brought me in-
to a backsliding state, for, from first witnessing
their unhallowed courses, I began to join them,
until I became very rude, and wicked, and lost
entirely my confidence and communion with
the Lord. I soon became alarmed for my per-
sonal safety, as I understood the farm on which
I worked belonged to the Seminary of priests
at Quebec ; some of whom came to visit tho
family, and as some of the priests and students
of the Seminary had visited the prison during
my confinement, I was fearful of being recog«
nized ; however, those who came were stran-

§ers to me. 1 was also very fearful of being
iscovered by my dress, as I still wore some or
my prison clothes, which I was obliged to do
from imperious necessity, not having any oth-

I'M!,

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186

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

.' ! .; :^\

1t^:

'J4

era I could substitute. I wore a pair of gray
woolen pantaloons, which were marked in ma-
ny places, with the word *^ GAOL." in large
letters, with white paint. However, previous
to this, I had scraped off every letter with a
knife, so that it would require considerable
scrutiny to detect the mark ; and as soon as I
could obtain command of some of my wages, I
procured a pair of cheap tow-and-linen panta-
loons, when, anxious to appear no longer in my
prison garb, I retired into the woods, to put
them on ; taking particular care, at the same
time,to secrete the last article of a prison bads^e,
which I did by burying them deep under the
roots of a huge tree.

Another circumstance tended also to per-
plex and distress my mind : my employer had
a son who lived at Quebec, who made frequent
visits to the family. As he could speak the
English language very fluantly, I was obliged
to go into the room and talk with him for their
gratification. A few days aflcr his departure
from his first visit, he suddenly returned ; the
knowledge of which filled me with the most
gloomy apprehensions for my safety. The gen-
tleman came to me, and told mo his son had
brought some newspapers, and I must go in
and read them. Indeed my fears were now
^wrought up to the highest pitch, and suspecting
there was iniquity in the case, I was at a stand
whether to obey him or run away ; but fearful
of exciting suspicion, I obeyed his request, re-
solving if betrayed, to do the best I could for

31V.

LIFE OF W. B. LTGHTON.

187

air of gray
ked in ma-
." in large
r, previous
tter with a
onsiderable
} soon as I
\y wages, I
men panta-
nger in my
•ds, to put
it the same
ison bads^e,
under the

Iso to per-
ployer had
ie frequent
speak the
'as obliged
m for their
s departure
jrned ; the
h the most
The gen-
is son had
must go in
were now
suspecting
at a stand
but fearful
request, re-
I could for

my escape. Accordingly,! went into the house
and read some to them, and was careful to ex-
amine the papers thoroughly in order to see if

I there was any advertisements ibr me ; but to

^^ iny satisfaction I discovered none.

A few days after this, I attended church on
the Sabbath and to my astonishment saw a gen-
tleman in the crowd, who hjid been in prison
for debt, and who of course was well acquain-
ted with me. Without betraying my feelings,
I hastened to escape from the place, and return-
ed to my abode, devising means for my future
escape from recognition. * The next Sabbath
I was not intending to go to church, for fear of
discovery ; but the family was so dissatisfied
that they called me hard names, — said I was
no better than a dog^ I was a healheriy &c. upon

* I should have been glad to have left this place for the United
States; but the peculiar circumstances in which 1 was placed,
prevented me from doin^; it. I was almost entirely ignorant
of tiie country, not knowing which way to pursue for safety,
and to gain the United States. I was also fearful of exciting
•u.<^picion, should I make inquiiy of the French, (for I had
none others with whom I could talk.) Another difficulty, was,
I could not cross the St. Lawrence, without exposing my life
aa the river was some of the time full of floating ice. And to
go by the city of Quebec, would probably have been attended
with fatal consequences; as I might have been taken. I ther««
fore tliought it best lo remain where I was, (if I could do it
with any degree of safety,) until my friend Doctor Moriu4
•hould visit me; when I intended to leave forthwith. As dan»
gerouf fts my situation was, it probably was not so bad ai it
would h«v« Men had I proceeded in my own way to make my
Mcape* Indeed I firmly believe I was preserved by the over*
ruling hand of Providence. The event that gave birth to m^
deliventncA, deserves to be attributed to the merciful Pro? i-
dtnee of God; to whom I would ascribe ceaielese praisei.

^ <A

ill

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188

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

. '. '%

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which rather than to be treated with disdain,
and contempt by thern, I went to church ; but
who should I see among the crowd, but the 6a-
ker who used to supply the prison with bread.
Knowing that he also was well acquainted with
me, I resolved to get away from the crowd im-
mediately, and make my escape. I noticed
that upon my first view of him, he was looking
towards me, if not at me ; but whether he no-*
ticed me or not I cannot say ; however, I have
no doubt, had I remained, I should have been
detected upon the spot, and reconducted back
to Quebec, where my fate would have been fix-
ed forever. I now resolved I would run away
that night, and should have done so, had I not
been prevented by the following circumstance.
As I was sitting in the house in the evening,
meditating on my proposed undertaking, two
hired men of the family came in, and began
talking in a low tone ; and from what I could
gather, they had heard of the absconding of
two men from prison, whom they suspected to
be the Doctor and myself. Upon this, I was
much concerned, and feeling anxious to ascer-
tain the true import of their conversation, ( for
I could understand the French language) ap-
proached them, when they ceased talking. I
tell them, and lay down on my bed, not intend-
ing to undress. Shortly afler, they inquired
of me if I had gone to bed ; upon learning
that I had not, they told me I had better do it.
From this I thought that they were set as a
watch over me, and that to try to get away

LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON.

186

ith disdain,
hurch ; but

but the 6a«

with bread,
minted with
crowd im-
I noticed
was looking
jther he no--
3ver, I have
i have been
lucted back
ve been fix-
Id run away
had I not
k-cumstance.
lie evening,
rtaking, two

and began
vhat I could
sconding of
suspected to

this, I was
us to ascer«
rsation,( for
iguagc) ap.

talking. I
, not intend*
By inquired
on learning
better do it.
sre set m a
> get away

f.'JS

would be useless; so that I submitted myself to
my fate and went to bed , where I spent a rest-
less and miserable night. But as I heard no more
of their talk,my fears must have been groundless,
and I of course became more calm and easy in
my mind. To increase my alarm, the gentleman
who was my employer, asked me one day if I
was not a soldier; to which I made very strange
and replied disdainfully, no! From these cir-
cumstances I was powerfully convinced it would
not do for me to stay much longer in that place.
Therefore,! resolved to leave as soon as conveni-
ent. However, I delayed a few days longer,until
on Wednesday, as I was busily engaged in the
woods chopping,one of the hired men came upon
the fijll run towards me,saying in French," TAom-
as^you must come homeythere is a gentleman wants
to see youP'^ I answered, with great excitement
of feeling who is it wants to see me? He repli-
ed again, " a gentleman ; u'ho it is I canH /e//."
I was so alarmed at this information that I tur-
ned pale,and could hardly bear my own weight.
The man seeing I was agitated, said, " it is the
Doctor;'*'' but not understanding him, I thought
he said the turnkey. This misunderstanding
tended to increase my fears, till he repeated,
more intelligibly and with deeper emphasis "tf
is the Doctor who came here with you.^'* Upon
this my countenance lighted up, my heart leap-
ed with inward joy, and gratitude, and my fears
banished, and with pleasure I went to meet my
old friend at the place he had assigned, for he
would not come on shore to the house, but

190

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

si'

■;: -i

;n''' 'I

spoke from the boat for fear, if I had been de-
tected, it would lead to his apprehension.

No one can know the happiness I felt on
this occasion. It was like that which I felt on
my escape from prison ; I viewed the arrival
of my friend as an interferance of Divine Prov-
idence, that would eventuate in my final deliv-
erance.

We both felt gratified at seeing each other,
after six weeks absence, and having made the
usual inquiries about our health, &.c. proceed-
ed to state to each other, what we had experi-
enced. The Doctor said he had followed down
the St. Lawrence, about one hundred miles,
and while practicing at one place, he was re-
cognized as a run-away from prison, by an in-
dividual who gave him suspicion of his inten-
tion to apprehend him by his close inquiries.
To pacify him, the Doctor said he promised to
visit him in the morning; but instead of which,he
hired a man to bring him up the river in a boat
that night. He said that during his absence,
he had been to Quebec to purchase a fresh
stock of medicine, and that while engaged in
trading, the jailor's wife came into the store,
but as it was in the evening, by hiding his face
and going out immediately, he escaped obser-
vation. In calling at one of his old friends, he
learnt that there was a mighty uproar in the
city on the day we escaped, and that a large
portion of the citizens went out to look at the
window where we cot out.

The next morning, in company with the Doc-

id been de-
ision.

ss I felt on
h I felt on
the arrival
•ivine Prov-
final deliv-

I :„.,

each other,
g made the
c. proceed-
had experi-
lowed down
Ired miles,
he was re-
i, by an in-
f his inten-
3 inquiries,
promised to
of which, he
er in a boat
tis absence,
ise a fresh
engaged in

the store,
ng his face
iped obser-

1 friends, he
roar in the
lat a large

look at the

th the Doc-

ili

I r-,

;':i'

I ''Mv

m -if-

£^.:ii:l

LIFE OF \V. B. LIttHTON.

191

tor, I left the employ of my master, and sailed
to the Island of Orleans, where he was imme-
diately called for to attend a sick lady, and
where he intended to stay for some time. It
was his wish also, that I should stay with him.
To do this I positively refused, as I was deter-
mined to get to the United States as speedily
as possible. Finding he could not prevail upon
me to stay, the next morning he engaged two
men to carry me across the St. Lawrence, to
St. Thomas, a distance of about eight miles.

The hour arrived for our departure, and the
faithful Doctor, with his eyes filled with tears,
pressed my lips with the kiss of true friendship;
wished me peace and abundant prosperity
through my life ; which blessing I returned in
the most heartfelt manner, and thanked him for
his ever memorable kindness. The scene now
became the most solemn and interesting. We
were now about to part forever, in this world ;
our eyes gave vent to floods of tears, as we
held and prest each other by the hand, as if un-
willing to let go our hold, and bid farewell. At
last he commended me to the mercy and Provi-
dence of God, when we took our farewell leave
of each other with affected hearts and weep-
ing eyes. Never shall I forget that hour that
gave additional proof of his sincerity and
friendship. His was a friendship that was gen-
uine, and indeed has rarely its parallel.

'* Friendship ! mysterious cement of thesoal,

Sweet'ner of life, and sold'rer of society,

I owe thee much. Thou hast deaer\'ed from m«

18*

if I
ill

■J

V. ■.

I I

«•■

192 LIFK OF W. B. LKJUTOX.

Fair, far lK»yoiul \vli;it I can ever pay:
Oft littve I proved tlin labor of thy love,
And tlie warm etforts of the gcnile lieart,
Anxious to plcabc.**

Before, however, I take leave of my friend,
I cannot refrain from observing, that I regard
him, as the instrument of Providence, in my
deliverance from destitution and sufferinp.
The singular circumstance that first united us;
the surprising success we met with on tho
night of our escape; together with his interpo-
sition in my last situation, all conspire to show
that he was the instrument of God's mercy in
my behalf. The kindness he manifested to-
wards me, through the whole of our acquain-
tance, will ever make his name dear to my
memory, and induce me so long as I live,t<>
honor him with the sincerest gratitude.

About noon I landed at St. Thomas, and
from thence traveled up the river towards Que-
bec, though on the opposite side. Fearful of
discovery, I pursued my way very slowly, from
necessity, as I was within eighteen miles of
Quebec, and as I was intending to pass it in
the night, I made a stop for some time in the
woods by the road. When the evening ap-
proached, I called at a house within nine miles
of Quebec, and procured refreshment; after
which, I prosecuted my journey. It now
became dark, and every thing was hushed to
rest; not a noise was heard; every thing wa^i
calm and tranquil, which gave new delight to
my feelings. At this still hour of night as I

LIFK OF \V. n. LIGIITON.

193

nee, m my

was pacing iiiy way in solitary silence, I sud-
denly approoched a young female rorin,w!io
was devoutly engaged on her kneed in prayer
to the Father of mercics,at the foot of a cross
by the side of the road;* which sight served
to enkindle a glow of ardent gratitude and
praise, and prayer to God that his blessing
might attend my wandering steps through the
night ; and bless me with a happy and safe de-
liverance

With a glad heart and light feet, I traveled
until I came to a piece of woods, on a low
swampy piece of land ; when 1 was greatly
alarmed by an unaccountable sparkling, such
as I had never seen before. It increased so
rapidly, that I verily thought I was surrounded
by fire; which I thought must be the effect of
witchcraft, and I really supposed it was the
work of the devil. As the sparks flitted close
round me, I mustered up courage sufficient
to try to catch one of them in my hand.
After a few trials, I caught something, which
on examination I found to be a bug, but in-
stantly threw it away, fearing it was poisonous.
I afterward learnt that what so alarmed mo
was nothing but the fire-fly or lightning-bug.

I arrived opposite to Quebec, about ten
o'clock, where every thing appeared silent,
and calm, except the waters of the river,
which were smacking briskly against the sides
of the vessels, as they lay at anchor; so that I

* Se« paje 180.

tij

r
it

'i/ilj

ijl

i"i

ii^^

B'j 1 I;

,'■ ill

m.:

194

LIFE OF W. K. LIGHTON.

fassed unmolested by the place of my fears,
continued my journey all night, though I
found it very unpleasant traveling, from the
many furious and savage dogs, by which I
was continually beset, that kept me sometimes
in fear of my life. In the morning I found
myself at aconsiderable distance from Quebec,
and notwithstanding my fatigue, I traveled
hard all day, without the least discouragement
from fear of apprehension.

After two days travel, 1 was informed by a
gentleman, who spoke English, that I could
gain the United States, and save myself
much travel, by taking a new road, lately open-
ed, and leading across the St. Nicholas. I ac-
cordingly followed his direction, and about
noon that day, called at a little log house for
refreshment, which I found to be occupied by
an Englishman, from Wakefield, near Leeds
in Yorkshire. As I had been there a number
of times, we entered into a very animated con-
versation, about our homes, &c. In the midst
of our interview, we were interrupted by a
man who came in, and seeing me, asked me
some questions, and then charged me with be-
ing a run-away from a ship. I told him I was
not a sailor. He then swore like an infi-
del, thinking to make me own that I was, that
he might gain a trifle by my apprehension.
But I persisted in denying it, and at length he
left me to pursue my journey. At night after
passing through a piece of woods, thirteen
miles in length, I came to a log cabin, where I

Liri: OK W. B. LIGIITOI<l.

195

my fears,
though I
from the

which I
lometimea

I found
1 Quebec,

traveled
irajjement

rmed by a
it I Gould
^^e myself
tely open-
as. I ac-
nd about
house for
cupied by
ar Leeds

a number
ated con-

the midst
;ed by a
asked me
e with be-
him I was
e an infi-
'. was, that
rehension.

length he
night after

, thirteen
n, where I

put u[) for the nioht. After partaking of a lit-
tle coarse food, 1 lay down upon the hard floor
to seek sleep; but such was the unmerciful in-
terruption I experienced from the mosquitoes,
black flies, cSc. that instead of sleeping, I spent
the night in defending myself from their attacks.
* The next morning, being put across the river
by my host, J proceeded on my journey.

My road now became more difficult than ev-
er. From its appearance, it had once been
cut out, but was now overgrown with under-
brush ; and in some places, covered with wind-
falls. After traveling half a day, the road ter-
minated, so that I became lost. Still I pursu-
ed my way,and at last,discovered a track,which
was that of an ox, or cow, as far as I could
judge. This, at length, brouglU me to a path
where some labor had lately been done, which I
followed eagerly, until I came to a clearing,
where I hastened to a house, and found I had
:;ot to the St. Francis River. Thus ended a
journey of twenty-six miles through the woods.

My means of traveling had now become
exhausted ; having, when I started, only seven
shillings and sixpence in, my pocket, and appre-
hending no danger, as I was so ♦ar from Que-
bec, I thougiit it best to gel into employ as soon
as I could. As it happened, I let myself the
same night, to a man by the name of Abecrom-
bie, in K , twelve miles below Shipton.

* 'I'his iinmt'rcifiil affliction grately confirmed Mr. W— — ■,
statement to my Fuibt-r ua hig rgtiiia from Amtrica. Sm
pai^c 21st.

) -lit

196

LIFIC OF W. B. LIGHTON.

While living at this place, I very narrowly
escaped drowning in the St. Francis, through
my venturous disposition. This accident made
me serious for a while, and led me to pray a
few times, but it had no lasting effect. The
following anecdote I insert, as it may be amus-
ing to my readers, and may serve to illustrate
my feelings : I was going on an errand for my
master, when my road lay through a piece of
Avoods, the shade of which was truly pleasant.
While walking along, musing on the beauties
of creation, its pleasures, &c. I espied some-
thing in the bushes, that appeared very cur-
ious, and thinking it to be a knot on one of the
sticks, and anxious to obtain it for a walking
stick, as I thought it would make a very beau-
tiful one, I placed my hand upon it to see how
it would fit the ball of my hand, and to ascer-
tain if it were solid, at the same time giving it
n. pretty severe squeeze, I was stung so violently
in the forehead, by a host of angry hornets,
who, in revenge for my breaking their nest,
drove me speedily from the ground This case,
though simple in itself, led me to reflect upon
facts in the experience of man ; it taught me
that by being allured at the fascinating appear-
ance of the world, we grasp it as a prize, and
ere we are aware, we are stung to the quick by
the viper pleasure. I thought the world might
be aptly compared to a horneVs nest, and my
eagerness to grasp it, would, if not prevented
by grace, produce an eternal sting in my soul.
Reader, beware of grasping after the world \

■I

y narrowly
ds, through
lident made
le to pray a
ffect. The
ly be amu3-
to illustrate
rand for my
a piece of
y pleasant,
he beauties
pied some-
very cur-
i one of the
r a walking
very beau-
to see how
d to ascer-
le giving it
(o violently
ry hornets y
their nest.
This case,
jfiect upon
taught me
ng appear-
prize, and
le quick by
orld might
5/, and my
prevented
n my soul.
the world \

LIFE OF W« B. LIGHTON.

197

Beware of painted pleasure ! Hear the inspir-
ed John : ^^ Love not the world, neither the
things that are in the world." Hear also the
poet :

*'0, vain detudinnf world \ whom largest giftt^
Thine emptineds betray, like painted cloudi.
Or wal*ry bubbles: ai the vapor fliett
Diipersed by lightest blast, io fleet thy joyi,
And leave no trace behind."

I remained in this situation Until about the
twentieth of October, when I departed, intend-
ing to cross into the United States. But, as I
stood in need of some articles of clothing, at
the end of a day's travel, I let myself again.
I lived in that place about six weeks, when I
again set out for the States, resolving not to
step short of reaching them, which I did by the
way of Stanstead, in about two days.

Having crossed the line which separates the
British dominions from this free Republic, I
felt so rejoiced at the idea that my lot was now
cast among the happy sons of Columbia, that I
could fain have kissed the soil on which I stood.

I now felt happy and secure under the foster-
ing protection of the EAGLE'S WING, a
change indeed, which none can know, but
those who have suffered under the savage Paxo
of the LION ! The flame that was lit up in my
juvenile bosom, to range the peaceful shores
of Columbia, and spend my earthly existence in
this em'porinm of the uorld^ was not extinguish-
ed by the flood of trials and sufferings through
which I had to pass, but brightened up to tho

■r»g

t1l

198

LIFE OF \V. B. I.IGHTON.

moment that gave birth to my republican liberiyi
Unto God that guided me by his omnipotent
band, be endless praises !

— o5o^

CHAPTER VI

I I

An account of the succeeding years of his lifer-'tlie dinpeiua-
tions of Providence and grace, — qoritintied down to the pre**
ent time.

If the reader, tiis \ie has perused the foregoing
chapters, has feh to sympathize with me in my
afflictions, he will now rejoice with me in the
conclusion, at the fortunate change of my cir-
cumstances.

I now resumed my original name, and resolv-
ed, as I trod the margin of the American
shores, to begin my life anew, upon the strict-
est principles of integrity and virtue. As the
foundation of this, I determined on learnin;^
a trade, as I thought my age and circumstances
was favorable to the design, being then in the
twenty-first year of my age. For this purpose,
I mtended to travel eastward for one of the
Atlantic cities, where I was in hopes of meet-
ing with success. Upon arriving at Water-
ford, in the State of \'ermont, I was informed
at a place where 1 stopped over the night, that
one of my countrymen named Furby, a Cabi-
net maker, lived about two miles from that place.
Accordingly the next morning,! called and took
breakfast with him. Mr. F. had some inclina-
tion to engage mo to learn his trade, but igno-

•if

LIFE OF W. n. l.XGIITON.

199

rant of my character, he declined. Ho told
mc there was another Englishman in the vil-
lage ,namcd Bellamy, a Methodist preacher,and
a tailor by trade. He advised me to call on
him, which I did, and soon formed an attach-
ment for him, such as countrymen feel towards
each other when they meet on a foreign soil.
I related to Mr. B. my desire to learn a trade,
and after some inquiry, he told mc if I should
like to he a saddler, he thought it probable I
might engage, as a Mr. Cobb, a saddler in the
village, wanted an apprentice. Having no ob-
jections against the trade, I waited on Mr. C.
the next day, who agreed to take me a month
on trial, and after the expiration of that term,
if we both should like, he would take me as an
apprentice. As we were both satisfied at the
end of that term, we formed an agreement by
which I was to stay with him three years, and
in return he was to learn me the trade.

After living here a few months, my mind
was aroused to a consideration of the danger
I was in, from having wandered from the good
and right way. I had no rest, day or night,
for the spirit of God continued its calls after
me so loudly, that I plainly saw I must seek
again the peace of my soul. I strove to evade
the force ef these convictions by promising to
be pious at some futuc time; but alarmed lest
that time would iiever come,l thought at length
that I would return to my Heavenly Father;
yet I took no decided stand, until in the month
of September following, when I attended a
19

J 1

200

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTOIf*

^ .i

LSI

1:!

;ii

Ik : •M

Camp-meeting, at Concord Vermont, about
four miles from Waterford. In going to this
place, I made up my mind to seek the salvation
of my soul: I saw it was religion I wanted, and
religion I was determined to obtain, through
God's mercy before I left the ground.

The second day of the meeting, I attended,
in company with Thomas Bellamy, a son of
Mr. B. who also had backslidden from God,
and who manifested so little regard for religion,
that I soon left his company, (He has since
become a pious and devoted minister of Christ.)
While I heard the word preached, my troublo
of mind increased, and I felt as if forsaken,
both by God and man. I retired into the
woods to pray, but was followed with an over-
powering temptation,that my sins were too great
to be forgiven, and that if I dared to pray, the
vengeance of the Almighty would crush me in
a moment. But notwithstanding these tempta-
tions, my mind was encouraged by a remem-
brance of the precious promises contained in
the bible : ^^Ask, and it shall be given you;
seek, and ye shall find ; knock y and it shall be
openedunto you: " and I resolved to pray, if I
perished in the act. I fell on my knees, by the
side of a log, and prayed, but without much
relief or consolation.

In the evening I entered the Lanca*'* :.' tsnt,
where was a number of preachers, wno aftci
holding a class meeting, gave an invitation to
all who felt anxious for their soul's salvation to
manifest the same by rising and coming forward

I
I

!'l!

'■jf

'S^

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

201

mt, about
ng to this
; salvation
anted, and
1, through
L

attended,
, a son of
Vom God,
>r religion,
has since
)f Christ.)
ly troubio
forsaken,
I into tho
li an over-
e too great
► pray, tho
ush me in
se tempta-
a remem-
itained in
given you;
it shall be
pray, if I
ees, by the
lout much

)npU: tent,
wao aftci
vitation to
alvation to
ng forward

for prayers, None rose at first, though the
tent was crowded with those who were still la
their sins. At length I arose, and told the peo-
ple that I was determined to get religion, if it
was to be found. Upon this many more came
forward, and we all joined in humble prayer to
God, the Father of Spirits. Many found peace
in their souls, and went away rejoicing. But,
although I could not feel the clear evidence of
my acceptance, I felt comforted, and left the
spot convinced of the value and need of exper-
imental religion, and was determined to possess
it. On my way home, I considered well the
determination 1 had formed, and resolved forth-
with to put it into practice. I now began to
live in the practice of christian duties, and to
acquaint myself with the word of God. Not
having much leisure to devote to study, I used to
spend some time every night after nine o'clock,
in reading the bible upon my knees, which pro-
ved to be a very instructive and profitable em-
ployment.

To assist me in improving my mind, and a(^
ford me time for study, my friend Mr. B., kind-
ly permitted me to lodge in his house, and have
access to his library, where I used to study un-
til midnight. As I increased in experience,
my unbelief gave way, and at length I obtained
a clear and undoubted evidence that God for
Christ's sake, had blotted out my sins, and adop-
ted me into his family. O ! bless the Lor<f for
pardoning mercy. Being desirous of becoming
a member of the visible church of Christ, and

Mil

If ''

202

LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITOX.

«ili

conceiving the Methodist doctrines^ and uaages
to be in strict accordance with the principles of
the gospel, I offered inysclt'i and was received
into the class at Waterford, on probation, by
the Rev. Chauncey Richardson.

As I continued to study the way of salvation,
and to meditate on the state of a perishing
world, I felt a burning desire to warn poor sin-
ners to "flee from the wrath to come.'' To do
this, I punctually attended every means ofgrace,
tind to the best of my ability, prayed and ex-
horted, as opportunity offered ; in doing which,
my soul was blest and encouraged.

I was providentially called at one time to
visit an aged gentleman and lady, who were
both very near the borders of the grave ; my
labors with them were greatly blest, both to my
soul and theirs. They were both awakened
and led back to him from whom they had stray-
ed. From these, and other circumstances, I
was impressed with a conviction, that it was my
duty to improve in public, but on considering
my weakness and ignorance, I shrunk from the
task ; nevertheless, my sincere desire was to
know what was God's will concerning me, and
that I was determined to do whatever it might be.

In the month of February following, Mr. C.
and myself parted by mutual agreement, and I
left Waterford in search of new employment.
By the Providence of God 1 was directed to
Bradford, Vt. where I found employ for a while
m the shop of Mr. Corliss. Presenting my
certificate, I was received by the class in this

LIFE OF W. B, LIGHTOJV.

203

id usages

iciples of

received

>ation, by

salvation,
perishing
poor sin-
To do
s ofgrace,
i and ex-
ng which,

B time to
ivho were
rave ; my
loth to my
awakened
had stray-
stances, I
it was my
^nsidering
i from the
re was to
r me, and
might be.
g, Mr. C.
ent, and I
ployment.
irected to
or a while
nting my
ass in this

place, the first Sabbath after my arrival. Here
I enjoyed many blessed privileges among my
Christian brethren, especially in the family who
employed me, the heads of which were sincere
and devoted disciples of Jesus Christ. Among
other advantages, I had admission to the town
library, as my master was librarian, and the
books kept at his house.

During my stay in this place, I was power-
fully impressed again with the idea it was my
duty to improve in public, and the more I re-
sisted conviction, the more powerful it became.
I accordingly made it a matter of fervent prayer
to God ; having done this, I disclosed my feel-
ings to those with whom 1 became most ac-
quainted, who said they thought it was my du-
ty to go forward. Still I felt unwilling to do
BO, my talents were so small, though I knew
that many able ministers of the gospel, whose
talents now do honor to the church and them-
selves, begun young and small as myself, but
by a course of untiring study, and by the aid
of grace divine, had risen to their present ce-
lebrity and worth. Encouraged by these con-
siderations, I divulged my feelings and views
to the Rev. P. C. Richmond, who was preach-
er in change, who also advised me to go for-
ward and improve in exhortation, prayer, &c.
He then furnished me with his written permis-
sion to exercise as an exhorter, &c.

I had now no excuse for refraining from du-
ty, and accordingly appointed a meeting in the
village on a week day evening. When the
19*

204

LIFE OF \V. B. LIGIITON.

I'm

3R.

day arrived on which I was to attend my ap-
pointment, the clergyman of the congregational
church called at the shop where I was at work,
and after transacting his business with my em-
ployer, turned to me and questioned me in a
sarcastic manner about my preaching. He
told me I had better attend some theological
institution before I attempted to preach \ and
said many other thin«is to discouruire me and
prevent my going forward in duty. 1 was some-
what staggered at finU, but after some little re-
flection, determined to go forward, believing
the grace of God in a warm heart to l)e a great-
er assistance than all the learning of books and
colleges, which however, I believe to be of
great advantage, and important to a gospel
minister.

In the evening, with much trepidation, I en-
tered the desk and spoke to a large and atten-
tive congregation, from Mark x 17. *^Good
Master, what shall I do, that I may inherit eter-
nal life?" The Lord was present and blessed
me abundantly, and from that time to the pres-
ent, I have continued to labor in the vineyard
of my blessed Redeemer as faithfully as I
could.

In the month of may, 1827, I left my situa-
tion at Bradford, and on the 28th of the same
month entered the employ of Mr. Stevens, on
Sugar Hill, in the town of Lisbon, N. H. In
this place I was in a mejisure deprived of the
fellowship of my brethren, the Methodist, as
there was no class within five miles. Howev-

LIFE OF W. B. I.UaiTON.

205

my ap-
gational
it work,
my em-
mc in a
He
sological
)h ; and
me and
as some-
little re-
)elieving

a great-
ooks and
o be of
gospel

m, 1 cn-

nd atten-
f. "Good
lerit eter-
[ blessed
the pres-
vineyard
illy as I

my situa-
the same
;evens, on
[. H. In
cd of the
hodist, as
Howev-

er, I devoted myself to the duties which devol-
ved upon me with the utmost punctuality, and
having been admitted to full membership by the
church at Lisbon, and had my commission, as
an exhorter renewed, I went forward proclaim-
ing the Lamb of God to all who came in my
way. To increase my qualifications 1 applied
myself to a systematic course of living, attend-
ing my employ during my working hours with
as much strictness as if 1 had been watched
over by a task-master, and devoting every leis-
ure moment I possessed to the improvement of
my mind by study. To as-^ist me I procured a
copy of Dr. A. Clarke's invaluable commenta-
ry, together with some other theological works
from which I derived much valuable instruc-
tion.

I was also very reserved in my manner, so
much so that doubtless I have given some oc-
casion to think that I was scornful, but I can
truly say, I was actuated by no other motive
than a desire to prevent myself being led away
by the example and conversation of the ungod-
ly, by whom I was surrounded. This was
doubly necessary from the fact that Mr. S. sold
spirituous liquors, which drew into his shop ma-
ny a wicked and profane man, who, when the
fumes of their drams had filled their brains,
would talk over their grog-shop divinity until I
became disgusted with their conversation and
manners. How often hare I heard the debased
drunkard, though poor and almost penmjless^
talk in his drunken hours as though he were a

206

LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON.

II i

it.

wealthy citizeny a profound statesman or a devoted
christian! What n miserable picture of de-
pravity does a drunkard present! O, DRUNK
ARD ! if this should meet your eye, pause and
reflect ; consider that by drunkenness you low-
er yourself beneath the poor brute, whose labor
furnishes you with the means of indulging your
appetite. Think that you are murdering your
poor soul, and ruinitig your family, if you have
not done it already. Let conscience speak,
and as she speaks, give car, and turn your feet
into the right way, and thou shalt save thy blood-
bought soul from liell. O! may the happy day
soon arrive when this " liquid Jire,^^ this " dis-
tilled damnalionj^^ (for it deserves no better
name) shall be banished into the oblivious deep,
from whence may it never more return to intox-
icate the brains of men !

As I was thus beset by profane characters, I
could not refrain from administering a word of
reproof sometimes, for which I often received
additional vollies of oaths and imprecations,
though ultimately it prevented some from swear-
ing in my presence.*

Added to this, I was persecuted by some be-
cause I studied, which in their view, was in-
consistent with the character of a minister of

*" It chills my blood to hear the bleat Supreme
Rudely appealM to on each trifling theme.
Maintain your rank, vulgarity despise;
To stoear is neither hravey polite^ nor wise.
You would not swear upon a bed of death :
Reflect! your Maker noto could stop yoiu' breath."

LIFE OF \V. D. LIGIITON.

207

a devoted
of c/c-
RUNK
ausc and
you low-
)se labor
ing your
ing your
^ou have
speak,
your feet
ly blood-
ppy day
ats-

o better
oils deepy
to intox-

racters, I
word of
received
ecations,
m swear-

some be-
r, was in-
lister of

ith.

the gospel, who, they thought ought to preach
entire lij by inspiration. It was reported that I
had a large amount of prayer and sermon
books, from which 1 committed to memory all
my public improvements. This weak and fool-
ish report soon net with the fate it deserved.

But though I was deprived of fellowship (ex-
cept occasionally)with the members of my own
church, I enjoyed many privileges among my
Frec-Will-Baptist brethren, who appeared to
treat me with every mark of brotherly Iove,and
whose affection I shall ever remember. But
this love and affection at length became cold,
as evidently appeared in a great many from
their apparent disfellowship toward me, from
what cause I knew not, unless it was they be-
lieved the false reports my enemies had circula-
ted respecting my having prayer and semicni
books, from which 1 learned all my public im-
provements. Any other cause 1 never was
sensible of, as on the strictest investigation of
my actions, I could discover nothing 1 had said
or done which could be a just cause of offence.

These circumstances became a very serious
trial to me ; they disquieted my mind ; robbed
me in a great measure of my happy enjoyments,
and sometimes almost led me to believe there
was no religion ; and while under them led me
to desire to change my situation, and enter the
married state, for I felt alone and solitary.
Amid the thousands who surrounded me, I had
no one into whose breast I could pour my woes
and from whose sympathy I could derive en-

f'At

208

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

#■■:

couragement, or with whom I could claim kin-
dred. With the poet I could say :

«»TKore are no friends nor fatliers hero,
Nor spouses kind to smile on me ;
A brother's voice I cannot hear,
A mother's form I never see ;
A sister's love I may not share,
While here in exile still I roam;
O could I breathe my native air.
Beneath that dear ancestral dome,

I'd rest content,

'Till life was spent.
Nor seek abroad a better home."

I also wrote again to my parents, stating to
them my feelings and prospects, and expostula-
ting with them for their neglect, as I supposed
they had received my former letters, and from
being offended with me, refused to answer my
epistles. This however, appeared ultimately
not to be the case, as the reader will hereafter
learn.

During the passage of my letter I continued
to improve my gift and to get acquainted more
extensively with the families around me.
Among these families was that of Mr. N. Judd,
who, though they were ranked among the medi-
ocrity of the honest and industrious, were rich
in faith and in the knowledge of divine things.
My first acquaintance with this family was . in
the month of August, 18^7, and in the month
of April following, I was united in the bands
of matrimony, with Susannah, their daughter.

A few weeks previous to my marriage I was
informed by a gentleman that there was a letter
for me in the Fost Office, and he concluded

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

209

aim kin-

tdting to
xpostula-
supposed
Eind from
iswer my
iltimately
hereafter

continued
ited more
>und me.
N. Judd,
the medi-
/ere rich
le things.
\y was . in
he month
the bands
[laughter.
Lge I was
LS a letter
oncluded

from the superscription, as it was directed to
North America, that it was from England. I
nastened to obtain it when it proved to be from
my father, and as it may tend to give the read-
er an idea of his feelings I will insert it.

Frampton, Dec. 1st, 1827.

My Dear Son : I received your letter, dated
October 6th, 1827, and am very much surprised
that you have not received any letter from me,
which is the cause of your most unhappy com-
plaint. I have received many letters from you,
to which I have immediately sent answers.
Your information that you have not received
any since you left the Isle of Wight gives me
but poor satisfaction. The cause of these fail-
ures, is no doubt, owing to the great distance
which separates us from each other,and my let-
ters have probably been lost on the way.

Dear Son, your request has been gratified,
in that I have attentively perused your letter,
and in the first place, I commend you to God,
and pray earnestly that he may be your guide,
protector, and redeemer ; that you may honor
and fear him all your life ; be a useful and dig-
nified member of society ; and eventually, that
we may all meet in Heaven, where nothing
shall separate us from that union and felicity .
which has been purchased for us by our blessed
Redeemer.

Let me also afliectionately advise you, as you
have escaped your unpleasant condition and
situation for one of a more social and endear-

l<! '

I"' -I

Wfk.

U ii 'i !

210

LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON.

ing character, to preserve it with deep felt
gratitude. Use every effort to make it agreea-
ble to you, and be content in those fortunate
circumstances in which Providence and the mer-
cy of God have placed you.

You will accept the ardent love and best
wishes of your parents, and also the same sen-
timent of respect from all the family. We
should be glad to see you return to your native
land, which may God grant. This leaves us
all enjoying good heahh, except your mother,
whose weak constitution obliges me to say, at
times her health is very precarious. Your
cousin James L — — , of S., died about twelve

months ago. Your brother J is no better

of his lameness. May this find you in the en-
joyment of health, and O may God be with m}
transmarine son ! — and bless and save you ir
his heavenly kingdom, which is the prayer of,
Dear Son. Your respected Father,

WM. LIGHTON.

The perusal of this letter had no small influ-
ence on my feelings, and I regarded the con-
veyance of my letter as an act of God's good-
ness towards me. It was the first time I had
heard of my dear parents for seven years. The
idea that they no longer cared for my welfare
was removed, and with it a load of sorrow.
Since that period, I have, through the blessing
of Providence, received two or three commu-
nications every year from them, and nothing
subsists between us but feelings of the most
perfect friendship and affection.

ep felt
igreea-
rtunate
tie mer-

id best
me sen-
. We
ir native
ives us
mother,
► say, at
Your
; twelve

better

1 the en-
with m>

you ir-
rayer of,
er,
TON.

all influ-
i the coii-
I's good-
[iie 1 had
jars. The
f welfare
)f sorrow.
5 blessing
5 commu-
d nothing
the most

{/.m:;-.

\^h

.1 '

1 H

W.i: f " -1

i|f;: f

lii:-'

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

211

My term of hire having expired, I went to
live with my wife's father, according to a pre-
vious agreement ; and as he was advanced in
life, and infirm in body, I took the farm, and
agreed to support them through life ; in addi-
tion to which, I received ninety-six dollars a
year from my father-in-law, granted to him by
government, for a reward of his services during
the revolution.

In this situation, we lived in the most
harmonious and happy manner; a perfect con-
trast to the misery of my former days. Then,
I was the subject of the most inexpressible
hardships, doomed to bear the frowns of tyrants
and the insults of cruel masters. Now, thanks
to a merciful Providence, I was free from my
enemies, had a happy home, and enjoyed the
best of all earthly comforts, a pious and godly
companion, who was as dear to me as my own
soul. Added to this, I was amid friends,whose
generous kindness will ever endear them to
my memory; among neighbors who had a high
regard for the things of God, and whose hearts
were touched with a Saviour's love. These
were blessings once foreign to my expectations,
but now enjoyed in fond reality. O, what
shall I render to God for all his goodness to-
wards me.

** I'll praise liim while he lends me breathi
And when my voice is lost in death,
Praise shall employ my nobler powers:
Mv days of praise shall ne'er be past,
While life, and thought, and being last,
Or immortality endures. "

212

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

A few months after I wrote my answer to
my father's first letter, I received the following
from him, which I beg leave to insert, as it
breathes so much of the spirit of affection and
love.''^

Framplon Eiig. Oct, 15, 1828.

Dear Son : Your kind letter was received
with great pleasure, and O! what inexpressi-
ble joy I have had in perusing it, to find that
your receive my letters at last, after the num-
bers I have sep*^ these seven years. It affords
me much happiness to find you are enjoying good
health, and also that you are married ; but
above all it fills my soul with the greatest pos-
sible satisfaction to hear that you love your God
and Saviour, and feel a deep interest for his glo-
ry, 0,may the Lord bless and preserve you unto
his holy kingdom. As I am somewhat confi-
dent you will receive this letter, I shall briefly
state some things you no doubt will be glad to
hear. I still live on the farm I did when you
left me — have purchased the house and land
ajoining. I also carry on the business of Coal-
merchant. I have one yard at Wyberton, and
one at Boston ; but I find it rather dificult to
carry on business this year, owing to the dis-
tressing state of things.

I should like to accept your invitation

♦ It is with much regret, that I am not able to give my let-
ters with those of my father's. I was not aware they would
ever be needed; consequently was not careful to retain the cop-
ies; and am th-'refore, only able to give a few of his.

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

213

and emigrate to America, but my homey my
native Isle has a charm, almost too powerful to
admit of a seperaton, in this my advanced stage
of life. As yet, I know not how I shall act. I
am not able to determine, at present, so as to
give you a satisfactory answer, but return you
my sincere thanks for your tenderness towards
me.

England,! think, is reducing very fast, Banks
are failing in many parts of the country, in
consequence of which, and the drouth of 1826,
many respectable farmers are reduced to a state
of beggary, and the country presents but a dis-
mal scene of wretchedness. Dear Son : I
wish you would write often, and give me every
account of America you can, as I am anxious
to hear. Let me know how you are situated,
and how far you are from Boston, New York,
and Philadelphia.

In closing this, I commend you to Almighty
God, who alone is able to watch over and bring
you to his kingdom. O, may he bless and en-
lighten you as to your duty, that you may live
a devoted and useful life. We are all well,
and all join in giving our love to you, and your
dear wife and her relatives,praying if we should
nevei* meet each other on earth, we may be so
unspeakably happy as to meet in heaven, to re-
ceive a crown of glory, where we may mingle
our friendly souls in praising God forever,
through Jesus Christ.

I am, dear son, your very

affectionate father,

WM. LIGHTON.
20*

•it

M. .

I » ■.

i :

214

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

Having attended to improve my talent as an
exhorter for about two years, — with the advice
of my brethren, I at length obtained license to
preach, as a local preacher, at a quarterly
meeting conference, holden at Lisbon, April
25th, 1829, signed in behalf of the conference,
by the Rev. John Lord, Presiding Elder
From this renewal of my commission, I felt the
solemn importance of honoring it to the glory
of God. O, may he forbid that I should be
slack in warnmg the w-icked *' to flee the wrath
to come !" Save me, O Lord from every prin-
ciple of error, from the love of the world, and
every thing else that cannot bear to be tested
by thy holy word, and by the things of eternity.
After receiving my license as a preacher, I
wrote to my parents, in which I acquainted
them with my calling, as a gospel minister, &c.
The following is their answer, which I received
in the month of December, following :

Frampiorij near Boston, Aug. 8, 1829.

Dearly Beloved Son : I began to think the
time long since I received a letter from you ;
but the time has arrived in which I have receiv-
ed yours : it came to hand Aug. 7th, 1829.
Nothing gives me more satisfaction than to hear
from you ; believe me my son, when I say it
is a happiness I enjoy above every other pleas-
ure of the world. Yes, thank God, I can now
retire to my closet, and hold converse with my
dutiful son, while I read your epistle, O, what
a delightful hour ! How much I am obligated

LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITOIS.

215

it as an
\ advice
:ense to
Liarterly
I, April
ference,
Elder
: felt the
le glory
lould be
le wrath
iry prin-
arld, and
e tested
eternity,
sacher, I
iquainted
ister, &c.
received

, 1829.

think the
)m you ;
/e receiv-
th, 1829.
an to hear

I say it
her pleas-
L can now

with my
O, what

obligated

to praise the Lord who has permitted me to see
this moment. The pleasure I have received
from perusing your kind letter, has animated
and filled my soul with such exquisite happi-
ness, as words cannot express. And why all
this joy and gratitude ? but because I have rea-
son to believe my long lost son is found ; that
you love God and the way of life and salvation;
but above all, that you are favored, by God's
blessing and mercy, the privilege of preaching
the gospel of the Son of God. O, this is too
much for a father to bear ! So thoughtless was
you about your soul before, and so regardless
of friendly advice, and leaving the bosom of
friends and home, as you did, who can help re-
joicing ? Ah ! who could ever thought of such
a change ? Truly, " with God all things are
possible."

With this feeling of soul, I eagerly clasp my
pen to communicate with you, in the form of a
letter, and hasten to lose no time in so pleasing
an employ. I have much to say by way of en-
couragement to you, but I cannot express my-
self. Let me advise you to be humble ; abstain
from every thing that does not bear the impress
of that blessed gospel you profess to preach.
Live near to God, and then I have no fears
concerning your prosperity and usefulness.

I shall now commence giving you a summa-
ry of the unhappy state of your native land,
which I have no doubt you will be anxious to
know. England is indeed in a suffering situa-
tion, so much so, that I cannot help contrasting:

216

LIFE OF VV. B. LIGIITOIV.

-\ -I

j(' '

her onco happy state to her present deplorable
wretchedness. She once enjoyed more pleas-
ure than any Kingdom in Europe, and was the
garden of the universe, the place ofeivilizaticn
and arts, whose manufacturies would allow no
rival, and whose ships spread their sails over
the whole four quarters of the globe. Her tcealih
was stupendous J and her people happy. The
peasantry of England, who were once the glory
and pride of the nation, are now sunk into the
lowest state of poverty ; they are indeed the
most miserable of men ; they are turned into
' paupers and beggars. By what } By the in-
supportable and heavy weight of TAXATION.
Their hearts have sunk under the oppressive
burden, that they are no more, and will be no
more,except some speedy remedy is on foot.
So oppressive is the present state of things
that there has been more burglaries and rob-
beries committed than ever man remembered,
which arises chiefly from TAXATION, that
^^ dead weight.^^ The farmers are paying high
rents, and parish rates become so high that
they can scarce be said to live. England can
never prosper, as it has done, so long as taxa-
tionsLiid PAUPERISM prevails in the land.
Other countries have got its mode of manufac-
turing, and are in consequence thereof, less
burdened with that destructively " dead weight,"
so that they can bring their goods to England
and have a renumerative profit. Such my son,
is the deplorable situation of the unhappy En-
glisman. As for my part, I am in a prosperous

LIFE OF W. U- LIGHTON.

217

rable
il cas-
ts the
nation
ow no
3 over
tcealth
The
I glory
ito the
;d the
d into
he in-

noN.

ressive
be no
1 foot,
things
d rob-
ibered,
N, that
ig high
rh that
nd can
IS taxtt'
Q land,
anufac-
lof, less

England
ny son,
ipy En-
sperous

situation, for which I thank God ; but I feel
for the laborer, his situation is so extremely
critical that it claims the sympathy of every
christian and philanthropist. We are paying
about two hundred pounds per cent TAXA-
TION, and the inlerest of the national debt is
about one pound five shillings per second, (or
^5y55.) This, my dear son, is bad news of our
country. May the Lord save us from the
dreadful evils which threaten us !

But I must close after acquainting you with
the state of the family. We are all enjoying
good health, which to me is a blessing I cannot
be too thankful for. I wish you, and all yours,
may be enjoying the same good. Your broth-
ers and sisiers respect you as very dear to them,
and hope you will accept their humble tribute,
which is their undivided love. Present also,
the same endearing sentiment to your dear com-
panion, whom they respect as their worthy and
beloved sister. Also accept our love and make
it acceptable to our daughter ( your wife) and
every member of your family. Mr. and Mrs.
B send you their kind respects. The wor-
thy and respected John Y , Esq. has gone

the way of all the earth. He died on the 8th
of May last, after a severe illness. He was
beloved in his life, and lamented in his death,
by all his parishoners, and I believe has gone
to live with him who is King of kings and
Lord of lords. Please write immediately
And now may the God of peace be with you,

218 LIFE OP W, B. LIGHTON.

P ]:

,'r. I

and remain with you, and keep you from all
danger through Jesus Christ our Lord.

I remain your most afl^ectionate father,

WM. LIGHTON.

The contents of this letter filled me with the
highest concern for the general happiness of
my father, and his family, that I wrote him an
impressive letter, addressing him upon the sub«
ject of emigrating to this country, and urged
him most vehemently not to delay, but to pro-
ceed forthwith as soon as convenient. One of
his letters in answer to this subject is as fol-
lows : —

Frampton, Oct Slaty 1831.
My Dear Son : I received your most grate-
ful and intelligent letter, dated July 10th, and
am truly enamored with your simplicity and
kind treatment. It breathes a sincerity, too
powerful to be doubted, that fills me with true
parental affection, and sincere respect to a lov-
ing and dutiful son, now in a transmarine stata
* # # # * # #

I receive your kind invitation with warm
emotion, and should like to come to America,
to pass the rest of my life with you in your
FREE REPUBLICAN country ,where peace
and retirement alone can be found, to refresh
and relieve the sons of suffering oppression.
But my son, the thought of leaving home, and
friends,to traverse the ocean,in quest of a more
free country, at this age of my^ life, might be
probably an imprudent step. I know not what

LIFi: OF VV. D. LIGinON.

219

n all

ather,

)N.

hthe
ss of
m an
; sub-
urged
o pro-
)ne of
as fol-

831.
; grate-
th, and
ty and
ty, too
ith true
> a lov-
e state.
#

1 warm
merica,
m your
e peace
refresh
iression.
me, and
' a more
light be
lot what

to say any further upon the subject, but would
give you my hearty thanks, for your kind invi-
tation, and pray the Lord he may, by his divine
influence, bring us to heaven, where waves and
billows shall no more rise between us, to ob-
struct us from the enjoyment of our beloved

fraternity.

# # # « # # #

Your most affectionate father,

WM. LIGHTON.

Finding my letter did not have its desired
effect, except that it put him to thinking upon
the subject, I wrote again upon the same sub-
jecty and received the following :

Frampton Sept. 2d, 1833.
Affectionate Son : Through the biessing
of God, we received your important communi-
cation, dated April 24th, 1833. Your argu-
ment for me to come over to you, is very strong
and sincere, but I cannot at present, determine
so as to give you any decisive satisfaction
about the subject. Yet, let nr^e tell you, my
dear son, the ties of parental affection are so
strong as almost, at times, to induce me to re-
solve upon the undertaking. I should be very
happy to see you all, and to enjoy sweet solace,
and end my days in your free and happy coun-
try, and in the bosom of an affectionate and
grateful son, but the distance seems too iar,
and the journey accompanied with a degree of
mental anxiety and danger, which are the only
difficulties which seem to prevent that happy

220

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

ill

meeting, which would be accompanied with all
the feelings of a true philanthropist.

Our country is progressing in oppression and
wretchedness, which almost induces me to be-
lieve its fate is fixed. The reform bill has prov-
ed a dead letter, at least at present ; and in
consequence of this failure, the people have
turned a deaf ear to all the plans of reforma-
tion. What will be the consequence I know
not, but 1 fear it will result in a bloody contest.
May the Lord have mercy upon us, and deliver
us from the evil. We are all in sentiment as
usual, and enjoying good health. Accept our
love and best wishes. Write at every oppor-
tunity. And may the propitious smiles of our
heavenly Father attend you, and your beloved
family forever, which is the prayer of

Dear Son, your most affectionate and
honored father,

WM. LIGHTON.

About the time I wrote to my father last,
I suffered by an unfortunate circumstance, and
lost the greater part of my property. It might
be well to give some minute particulars,relative
to the circumstance. I had lived in my mar-
ried state between five and six years, in the
most happy and contented manner, during
which time, we were blest with three children,
a son and two daughters. As I was located
where my trade was of but little service, and
feeling disposed to devote myself more exclu

LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON.

221

h all

nand
) be-
prov-
nd in
have
brma-
know
jntest.
leliver
ent as
jpt our
oppor-
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»eloved

ON.

ler last,
ce, and
it might
relative
ny mar-
3, in the

during
children,

located
dee, and
e exclu

sively to it, I concluded to sell my farm, and
establish myself where it would be of value. I
succeeded in selling my place to a Mr. M'Bain
Jameson, who had ever been one of the most
upright of men, and having no apprehension
of his dishonesty, I confidently reposed my
property in his hands, without any other securi-
ty than his notes. Knowing he had obtained
the command of my farm, he vras influenced by
some poor, miserable, and notorious wretches,
to sell it and leave the country. He did so,
and in consequence, out of seven hundred dol-
lars, the price of my farm, I lost five hundred
and twenty-five. He proceeded with his family
to the West, where, for aught I know, he is at
present.

This unfortunate circumstance threw me into
deep trouble, and was like a cloud over my
mind, darkening my prospects. However, by
the grace of God,I was able to pursue a course,
which tended to promote my welfare in every
respect. Although I was somewhat involved,
I can say, to the honor of my creditors, they
never injured so much as a hair of my head.
Truly, the Lord is merciful and good, in that
he overrules every thing for my peace. I do
truly pity the man who was the cause of my
misfortune, and those who influenced him, for,
with all their gain, I am better oflf than they,
for I possess a conscience clear from guilt. My
prayer to God is, that they may repent of the
evil they have done, and be saved.
21

222

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

1'^

■; ■ 1

In the 'ensuing fall, I hired a house in the
town of Landaff, about five miles from my for*
mer residence, where, by the smiles of a kind
and indulgent Providence,! have been blessed|
far beyond my expectations, with food and rai*
ment, and what is better than all, with spiritual
prosperity. Truly, my trouble has been sancti-
fied : I have been taught the fallacy of earthly
goods, and led to trust in him who is a well
spring of life, and whose resources can never
fail.

Thus, dear reader, I have presented you with
a plain, unvarnished detail of the events of my
life, hoping, that if you are still the subject of
parental government, or in a state of nonage,
you will be careful how you treat lightly the ad-
vice of your parents. Let all my difficulties,
act as beacons to you. O, beware of folly !
" Shun every appearance of evil." Give your
heart to God. '' In all your ways acknowledge
him, and he will direct your paths." Pov. iii.6.

I rejoice that I am permitted to close this
narrative on my birth-day ! Thirty years have
rolled over my head ! They are gone forever !
0,what wondersGod has wrought for me,through
these thirty years of my life. I have had my
lot of sufferings, and difficulties, from the hands
of wicked and unfeeling men. I have felt their
frowns and their wrath ; but God has interpos-
ed, rescued, and saved me from my impend-
ing fate, and brought me to a land of liberty and
peace ; and has given me affectionate and dear
friends. Truly God has been my refuge, a

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

223

present help in time of trouble ; and unworthy
as I am, I will trust in him evermore.

It will not be long before I shall sleep the
sleep of death. O, that I may have my Saviour
IQ my heart, and that my God may sustain me
in a dying hour ; and grant me a triumphant
resurrection to a glorious immortality. O, may
ly while I live on the earth, live to the glory of
my blessed Master. May I ever be dutiful,
and labor for the salvation of precious, immor-
tal souls. May the Lord " so teach me to num-
ber my days that I may apply my heart unto
wisdom."

"A i*^ "^ more Reeling years, and what a
change i^ hat new scenes will break in upon
our raviriiied vision ! If I live, I shall see
changes ! When I die — and die I must, I
shall see as I am seen,and know as I am known,
by the inhabitants of a world of Spirits : and
O, what a change ! to be an inhabitant of a
world of Spirits I"

" Thoo must expire, my soul» ordain'd to range
Through unexperiencM scenes, and mystVies strange:
Dark the event, and dismal the exchange.
But when compelPd to leave this House of clay.
And to an unknown somewhere, wing thy way;
When time shall be eternity, and thou
Shalt be, tliou know'st not what, nor where, nor how»
Trembling and pale, what wilt thou see or dol
Amazing state! — No wonder that we dread
The thoughts of death, or faces of the dead:
His black retinue, sorely strikes our mind ;
Sickness and pain before, and darkness all behind.

Some courteous ghost, the secret then reveal;
Tell US what yoti have felt, and we must feel.
You warn us of approaching deatli, and why

224 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON.

Will you not teach iis what it i3 to die]
But having shot tlie gulph, you love to view
tiuuceeding spirits, plunged along like you;
Nor lend a frichdly hund to guide them through.

When dire disease shall cut, or age untie
The knot of life, and suiTer us to die;
When after some delay, sonic trembling strife,
The sonl stands quiv'ring on the ridge of lite;
With Fear and hope she throbs, then curious tries
Some strange hereafter, and some hidden skie8."-iVbrriff.

" But O, if I am prepared for such a change,
how delightful it will be to awake from death-—
to be immortal, and live forever ; — to be
among immortals — to renew those associations
with dear relatives and friends, which have
been suspended for a season. I can carry no
tidings thither, for the affairs of this word are
known to disembodied spirits. I can look
around me for relatives and friends, and those
refined principles of the soul, of love and joy,
will there be renewed, and enjoyed forever. O,
happy, happy region of boundless bliss ! There
will be no changing then of time : it will be
eternity. O, E-T-E-R-N-I-T-Y ! that dread-
ful pleasing thought ! I shall be immortal !
But shall I possess a crown of life ? Here
rests the awful pause ! A crown of life ! My
God, O, thou eternal and everlasting Father ;
hear thou a sinner's prayer ; lead me by thy
good spirit, and so sustain me in my course,
that I may find my all in thee, both in time and
in eternity."

And now, before I conclude, let me ask the
reader, what arc thy prospects beyond the
grave ? O ! what are thy hopes? Hast thou

LIFE OF W. B. LIGirrON.

225

rorrtf.

ange,
iath—
to be
iations

have
ny no
jrd are
n look
I those
U joy,
ver. O,
! There
will be
t dread-
[nortal !

Here
/ My
^'ather ;
J by thy
course,
ime and

aak the
>nd the
ist thou

a well grounded hope of a blessed immortality,
and that all is well between thee and thy Ma-
ker ; or art thou still in thy sins, an enemy to
God by wicked works ? If thou art, is it not
high time for thee to bethink thyself on thy
condition,and prepare thyself for the great event
of thy life. Think, O think, how soon thou
wilt have to lenve this short, transitory scene
of existence ! A few years, at the fartherist,
and then all will be over with thee here, and
then thou must appear a naked, unembodicd
spirit, at the awful bar of the august Majesty
of heaven, to answer for thy conduct. O, let
me urge thee to fly to Christ ; he is thy only
Saviour and sure friend. Have faith in his
merits. — Be deeply humble. — Live in view of
Eternity, and in the solemn consequences of
that vast and trying scene. Remember that if
you neglect to walk in the commands of God
you will be damned forever.

-Be wise, nor make

Heaven's highest blessing vengeance; O be wise!

Nor make a curse of immortality !

Say, knowest thou what it is, or what thou art ;

Knowest thou the importance of a soul immortaH

Behold tliis midnight glory : worlds on worlds!

Amazing pomp; redouble this amaze !

Ton thousand add ; add twice ten thousand more ;

Then weigh die whole ; one soul outweighs tliem all»

And calls ihe astonishing magnificence

Of unintelligent creation poor.'

Let thy soul bathe itself in the blessed Sa-
▼iour,

21*

226 LIFE OF W. B. LIGUTON.

** Sink into the purple flood,
Rise to all the life of God."

S. jek and retain his sacred image in thy hearty
and live on him by holy, conquering, irresista-
ble faith ; and so shall thou be saved in heav-
en.

Let me advise thee to a constant and prayer-
ful perusal of the holy Scriptures, — acquaint
thyself with them as thou wouldst thy chart^
wast thou lost, and exposed to perilous dangers
on the boisterous deep. Remember the Bible
is the star of eternity, a chart, to guide thy
frail bark into the haven of eternal rest. Make
it the constant book of thy life.

' iVIost wondrous book ! bright candle of the Lord!
Star of eternity! the only etar
By which the bark of man could navigate
The sea of life, and gain the coast of bliss
Securely ; only star which rose on time.
And, on its dark and troubled billows, still
As generation threw a ray
Of Heaven's own light, and to the hills of God,
The everlasting hills, pointed the Sinner's eye !

With holy faith and prayer,

Read God's Word once, and you can read no more;
For all books else appear so mean, so poor;
Verse will seem prose; but still persist to read.
And God's Word will be all the books you ueed.'

Never lay it aside because thou ha^c read it
over and over, or because it may not be alto-
gether so congenial with thy natural views and
feelings ; but persist in thy acquaintance with
it, with sincere prayer to God that thou mayest
fully understand it aright.

illC

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

227

The Holy Scriptures are of indispensible use
to thee, as they teach thee every thing relative
to thy salvation, and of thy duty while
a probationer here below. Let the dear read-
er therefore,

*<Read, nnd revere the sacred page, a page

Where triumphs immortality; a page

Which not the whole creation could produce: '

Which not the conflagration shall destroy *

III nature's ruins not one letter lost."

Our ignorance and neglect of the Scriptures
is the prime cause ofsomurhin/idelity and irreli-
gion in the world. Instead of men's approxi-
mating them, and formrng their lives by their
unerring authority, <^»ey set up their own sys-
tems, creed*', and notions, and haggardly warp
them to *^ieir unsanctified designs. May God
"■ran* d<^^f reader, that you, and I, may come
to the light of God's Word, if we are con-
demned and cut off, amen ; let us come to the
truth as it is in Jesus that we may be saved in
heaven.

Christian reader, awake thou to thy duty ;
see thou hast every thing ready, and in order
for thy exit into another world. Be on thy
post, and watch against the summons of the
Captain of thy salvation. See thou maintain-
est family and secret prayer, — and see that
thou hold daily communion with thy Lord.
Examine thyself, as to thy title to heaven, and
happiness. Dost thou live every day, a holy
and devoted life such as adorns thy profession ?
Hast thou Christ formed within thec'the hope

228

LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON.

of glory? Hast thou an abiding witness that thou
art a child of God? O ! in a word, art thou in
the strictest sense a true and devoted christian i
Answer me to the truth of this question. If
thou art not, thou art in the broad road to ruin
and destruction ; and may God have mercy
upon thee, and alarm thy guilty soul ! If thou
canst respond in the affirmative, I bid thee go
on,with God's blessing; and may thou, and I,and
the whole Israel of God, be so unspeakably
happy as to be saved in heaven, through our
Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
? Now to the ever-blessed and glorious TRIN-
ITY, FATHER, WOKI), and SPIRIT,
the infinite and eternal ONE, from whom alone
wisdom, truth, and goodness cau proceed, be
glory and dominion forever and evet. Amen.

Landaff, JV*. H» September 1th, 18:3s

hou
u in
lanf
If
ruin
ercy
thou
ego
[,ana
lably
I our

RIN-
RIT,
alone
2d, be
^men.

J:)5