THE 
 
 LAST MEN 
 
 OF 
 
 THE EEYOLUTIOK 
 
 ^ il0t0gi'iiJl $i itm ^itt, 
 
 TOGETHER WITH VIEWS OF THEIR HOMES 
 
 PEINTED IN COLOES. 
 Accompanied by brief Biographical Sketches of the Men, 
 
 BT 
 
 Rev. E. B. HILLARD. 
 
 HARTFORD, CONN. 
 Published by N. A. & E. A. MOOEE. 
 1864. 
 
Entered Accokdikg to Act of Congress, in the Year 1864, 
 By N. A. & B. A. MOORE, 
 Ix THE Clerk's Office of the District Court op Connecticut. 
 
 H. S. GKIFFITIIS, 
 Printer, 
 Hartford, Conn. 
 
IjSTEODUCTIOK 
 
 Every American desires to know all that can be 
 known of the surviving soldiers of the Revolution. It 
 was in this desire that the following work originated, 
 and with a view to its gratification that it has been 
 prepared. 
 
 Of these venerable and now sacred men but seven 
 remain.* Four reside in the State of New-York, one 
 in Maine, one in Ohio, and one, if he be yet living, in 
 Missouri. These soon must pass away. Already, with 
 perhaps a single exception, each has outlived his cen- 
 tury. One is in his one hundred and first year, one 
 in his one hundred and second, two in their one hun- 
 dred and third, one in his one hundred and fifth, 
 one in his one hundred and sixth, and of one the age is 
 not known. This their extreme age, remarkable not 
 
 * See note at the end of the volume. 
 
4 THE LAST MEN OF THE EEVOLUTION. 
 
 only in their personal history but in the modern his- 
 tory of the race, forbids the hope that they can con- 
 tinue much longer among the living. Soon they too 
 must answer the fmal challenge and go to join the full 
 ranks of those who have preceded them to the invisible 
 -world. The present is the last generation that will be 
 connected by living link with the great period in which 
 our national independence was achieved. Our own are 
 the last eyes that will look on men who looked on 
 Washington ; our ears the last that will hear the living 
 voices of those who heard his words. Henceforth the 
 A^merican Revolution will be known among men by the 
 silent record of history alone. It was thus a happy 
 thought of the artists who projected this work to secure 
 such memorials as they might of these last suvivors of 
 our great national conflict, before they should forever 
 have passed away. Indulging thus their own affection- 
 ate and grateful interest, they have done a work far 
 which their countrymen will thank them, and the value 
 of which will increase with all the future. Possible now 
 it will soon be impossible forever, and now neglected 
 it would be forever regretted. What would not the 
 modern student of history give for the privilege of 
 looking on the faces of the men who fought for G-recian 
 liberty at Marathon, or stood with Leonidas at Ther- 
 mopylae. With what interest would every lover of 
 liberty regard the pictures of the last of the Scots wlio 
 were with Bruce at Bannockburn, or of the Swiss wlio 
 followed Tell, or of Cromwell's Ironsides ! flow pre- 
 
INTEODUCTION. 
 
 5 
 
 cious a collection to every true American, did it 
 exist, would be the portraits of the seven men who 
 fell, on the morning of the nineteenth of April, 1775, 
 on Lexington Green ! Around such men there gathers 
 the interest of the periods with which they were asso- 
 ciated, whose greatness they helped to achieve. In 
 them as the last survivors of those periods, their inter- 
 est seems to culminate and they stand thenceforth as 
 their representatives. In the memorials of such men 
 moreover the past seems still to live. The connection 
 with it of their personal history gives it reality. Ever, 
 it is only through association with the men who were 
 actors in them that the periods of history seem real. 
 History lives only in the persons who created it. The 
 vital words in its record are the names of men. Thus 
 everything of personal narrative gives reality to the 
 past. This these memorials of the last living men of 
 the Revolution will do lor that great period of our 
 history. As we look upon their faces, as we learn the 
 story of their lives, it will live again before us, and we 
 shall stand as witnesses of its great actions. 
 
 The chief interest of this work lies, of course, in the 
 pictorial representations of the men. The artists 
 have accompanied these with views of their residen- 
 ces, that, so far as it is possible without personal visit 
 to them, their countrymen may see them, as, in the 
 closing days of their long lives, they live. The bio- 
 graphical sketches are designed only to gratify the 
 natural interest which, seeing the men, will be felt to 
 know something of their history. 
 
€ THE LAST MEN OF THE EEVOLUTION. 
 
 For the purpose of personal interview with them, 
 and to procure from themselves the materials for th ese 
 sketches, the writer in the month of July visited th em 
 in their homes. It was a visit long to be remembered 
 by him for its interest and enjoyment, and if he shall 
 succeed in making it to others but in part what it was 
 to himself, he will feel abundantly rewarded for Ms 
 labor. 
 
SAMUEL DOWNING. 
 
 The first in order visited was Samuel Downing, and 
 the sketch of his life shall introduce the series. 
 
 Mr. Downing lives in the town of Edinburgh, Sara- 
 toga County, New York. His age is one hundred and 
 two years. To reach his home, you proceed to Sara- 
 toga, and thence by stage some twenty miles to the 
 village of Luzerne, on the upper Hudson. Here yau 
 are at once rewarded for your journey thus far. Few 
 •spots more beautiful are to be found. The river, flowing 
 above it broad and free, at this point is compressed 
 within a narrow gorge some twelve or fifteen feet in 
 width, through which, after passing over a series of 
 rapids known as Rockwells Falls, it rushes with great 
 rapidity and force, the sound of its waters filling the 
 air with music and your heart with freshness as you 
 
8 THE LAST MEN OF THE EEVOLUTION. 
 
 listen to them, ceaseless, by day or by night. Around 
 the village tower the mountains of the region, southern 
 spurs of the Adirondacs ;'one. a soliuiry, lofty dome, a 
 landmark far and wide. But the gem of the village 
 seemed to me its lake. This lies a little out of and 
 above it; and for completeness and exqaisiteness of 
 beauty is not unworthy the vicinily of Lake George, 
 from the head of which, coanec;ed with it by a series 
 of lesser lakes, it is distant but twelve miles. I viewed 
 it by moonlight on the evening of my arrival. The 
 night was still, and the smoky haze that brooded over all 
 the region subdued and softened the outlines of the 
 mountain masses which a^^e Us setting. And there, in 
 their mingled shadow and the moonlight, lay the lake, 
 the forests fringing it to its very edge, its shores wind- 
 ing in and out among them, a beaatiTnl wooded island 
 rising from its centre, with the dip of oars and the 
 voices of singers from parties of evening voyagers 
 coming sweetly to the land, togerher forming a scene 
 which for soft and dreamlike effect seemed more be- 
 fitting the style of Italy than the stern and rugged 
 scenery of our northern America. Add to this the 
 attraction of a pleasant hotel within near sight and 
 sound of the river rapids, with one of the cheeriest 
 and most obliging of landlords, and it is not strange 
 that Luzerne should be adopted, as it is, as a place of 
 summer resort by many families of wealth and leisure 
 from the cities below. 
 
 From Luzerne the home of Mr. Downing is distant 
 
SAMUEL DOWNING. 9 
 
 some twenty-five miles up tlie valley of the Sacandaga 
 river, and for it I set out early on the following morn- 
 ing. The Sacandaga is a branch of the Hudson, 
 putting into it from the west just below Luzerne. Its 
 valley is narrow and walled in on both sides by high 
 mountains ; those on the southern side, known as the 
 Kayderasseras (the title of an early patent) or Green- 
 field Mountains, separating it from the valley of the 
 Mohawk. It was through this valley that Sir John 
 Johnson, in 1780, made his incursion from Canada by 
 way of Crown Point into the Mohawk valley, and by 
 the head of it and the Indian paths west of the Adiron- 
 dack Mountains that he returned. Near the head of the 
 valley the river makes a broad bend to the southwest 
 round a point of hills, coming up on their western side 
 to Lake Pleasant, its source. At the head of this bend, 
 about midway between the lake and the river, upon 
 the summit of the intervening highlands, stands the 
 house of Mr. Downing, built by himself, the first framed 
 house in the town of Edinburgh, seventy years ago. It 
 was about noon wheu I reached there ; and as I drove 
 up I observed on the eastern side of the house, near 
 the front corner of it, (the corner nearest you in 
 the picture,) seated between two bee-hives, bending 
 over, leaning upon his cane and looking on the 
 ground, an old man, whom I at once concluded to be 
 the object of my search. Indeed, once in the vicinity 
 you have no difiiculty in finding him, as ail in the region 
 know Old Father Downing," and speak of him with 
 
10 THE LAST MEN OE THE EEYOLUTION. 
 
 respect and affection. The celebration of his one hun- 
 dredth birthday, to which the whole country around 
 gathered, served to make him acquainted with many 
 who might otherwise, in the seclusion of his age, have 
 lost sight of him. On entering the yard I at once rec- 
 ognized him from his photograph, and addressing my- 
 self to him, said, "Well, Mr. Downing, you and the 
 bees seem very good friends." (There was barely 
 room for him between the two hives, and the swarms 
 were working busily on both sides of him.) " Yes," he 
 replied, " they don't hurt me and I don't hurt them." 
 On telling him that I had come a long way to see an 
 old soldier of the Revolution, he invited me to walk 
 into the house, himself leading the way. The day was 
 extremely warm. I inquired of him which suited him 
 best, warm weather or cold. "If I had my way about 
 it," he answered, " I should like it about so. But we 
 -can't do that : we have to take it as it comes." The day 
 before had been one of the hottest of the season, so 
 much so that coming up by stage from Saratoga, we 
 - could scarcely endure the journey. Yet in the middle 
 of it, the old man, they told me, walked some two miles 
 and a half over a very tedious road to the shoemaker's, 
 got his boots tapped, and walked home again. Mr, 
 .Downing is altogether the most vigorous in bo5y and 
 mind of the survivors. Indeed, judging from his bear- 
 ing and conversation, you would not take him to be 
 over seventy years of age. His eye is indeed dim, but 
 all his other faculties are unimpaired, and his natural 
 
SAMUEL DOWNING. 
 
 11 
 
 force is not at all abated. Still he is strong, hearty, 
 enthusiastic, cheery : the most sociable of men and the 
 very best of company. He eats his full meal, rests 
 well at night, labors upon the farm, " hoes corn and 
 potatoes, and works just as well as anybody." His 
 voice is strong and clear, his mind unclouded, and he 
 seems, as one of his neighbors said of him, " as good 
 for ten years longer as he ever was." Seated in the 
 house, and my errand made known to him, he entered 
 upon the story of his life, which I will give as nearly 
 as possible in the old man's own words. 
 
 "I was born/' said he, " in the town of Ncwbury- 
 port, Mass., on the 31st of November, 1761. One day, 
 when I was a small boy, my parents went across the 
 bay in a sail-boat to a place called Joppa. They left 
 me at home ; and I went out into the street to play 
 marbles with the boys. As we Avere playing, a man 
 came along and asked if we knew of any boy who 
 would like to go and learn the trade of spinning-wheel 
 making. Nobody answered ; so I spoke up, and said, 
 'Yes, I want to go.' ' Where are your parents ?' asked 
 he. ' They aint at home,' said I ; * but that wont 
 make no odds ; I will go.' So he told me that if I 
 would meet him that afternoon at Grreenleaf's tavern, 
 (1 remember the tavern keeper's name,) he would take 
 me. So I did. They asked me at the tavern where I 
 was going. I told them I was going off. So we started ; 
 he carried me to Haverhill, and the next day to Lon- 
 donderry, where we stayed over Sunday. It was the 
 
12 
 
 THE LAST MEN OF THE EEVOLUTION. 
 
 fall of the year. I remember the fruit was on the 
 ground, and I went out and gathered it. I was happy 
 yet. From Londonderry he carried me to Antrim, 
 where he lived. His name was Thomas Aiken. 
 Antrim was a wooded country then. When I got 
 there I was homesick ; so I went into the woods and 
 sat down on a hemlock log, and cried it out. I was 
 sorry enough I had come. When I went back to the 
 house they accused me of it ; but I denied it. I staid 
 with Mr. Aiken till after the breaking out of the war, 
 working at wheels during the day and splitting out 
 spokes at night. I had lived with him so six years. 
 He didn't do by me as he agreed to. He agreed to 
 give me so much education, and at the end of my time 
 an outfit of clothes, or the like, and a kit of tools. So 
 I tells aunt, (I used to call Mr. Aiken uncle and his 
 wife aunt,) ' Aunty, Uncle don't do by me as he agreed 
 to. He agreed to send me to school, and he hasn't sent 
 me a day ;' and I threatened to run away. She told 
 me if I did they'd handcuff me and give me a whip- 
 ping. ' But,' said I, 'you'll catch me first, wont you. 
 Aunty V ' 0,' she said, ' they'd advertise me." 
 
 " Well, the war broke out. Mr. Aiken was a militia 
 captain ; and they used to be in his shop talking about 
 it. I had ears, and I had eyes in them days. They 
 was enlisting three years men and for-the-war men. I 
 heard say that Hopkinton was the enlisting place. 
 One day aunt said she was going a.visiting. So I said 
 to myself, ' That's right, Aunty ; you go, and I'll go 
 
SAMUEL DOWNING. 13 
 
 too.' So they went out, and I waited till dinner time, 
 when I thought nobody would see me, and then I 
 started. I had a few coppers, but I darsn't take any 
 of my clothes, for fear they'd have me up for a thief. 
 It was eighteen miles, and I went it pretty quick. 
 The recruiting officer, when I told him what I'd come 
 for, said I was too small. I told him just what I'd 
 done. 'Well,' said he, 'you stay here and I'll give 
 you a letter to Col. Fiheld over in Charlestown and 
 perhaps he'll take you.' So I staid with him ; and 
 when uncle and aunt came home that night they had 
 no Sam. The next day I went and carried the letter 
 to Col. Fifield, and he accepted me. But he wasn't 
 quite ready to go : he had his haying to do ; so I 
 staid with him and helped him through it, and then I 
 started for the war. Uncle spent six weeks in looking 
 for me ; but he didn't find me." 
 
 '' But did your parents hear nothing of you all this 
 time ?" 
 
 " Yes ; Mr. Aiken wrote to them about a year after 
 he stole me. They had advertised me and searched for 
 me, but at last concluded I had fallen off the dock and 
 been drowned. 
 
 '^ The first duty I ever did was to guard wagons 
 from Exeter to Springfield. We played the British a 
 trick ; I can remember what I said as well as can be. 
 We all started off on a run, and as I couldn't see any- 
 thing, I said, 'I don't see what the devil we're run- 
 ning after or running away from; for I can't see 
 
14 THE LAST MEN OF THE EEVOLUTION. 
 
 anything.' One of the officers behind me said, ^ Run, 
 you little dog, or I'll spontoon you,' 'Well,' I an- 
 swered, ' I guess I can run as fast as you can and as 
 far.' Pretty soon I found they were going to surprise 
 a British train. We captured it ; and among the 
 stores were some hogsheads of rum. So when we got 
 hack to camp that night the officers had a great time 
 drinking and gambling ; but none for the poor soldiers. 
 Says one of the sergeants to me, ' We'll have some of 
 that rum.' It fell to my lot to be on sentry that 
 night ; so I couldn't let 'em in at the door. But they 
 waited till the officers got boozy ; then they went in 
 at the windows and drew a pailful, and brought it out 
 and we filled our canteens, and then they went in and 
 drew another. So we had some of the rum ; all we 
 wanted was to live with the officers, not any better. 
 
 Afterwards we were stationed in the Mohawk val- 
 ley. Arnold was our fighting general, and a bloody 
 fellow he was. He didn't care for nothing ; he'd ride 
 right in. It was ' Come on, boys !' 'twasn't ' Go, 
 boys !' He was as brave a man as ever lived. He was 
 dark-skinned, with black hair, of middling height. 
 There wasn't any waste timber in him. He was a 
 stern looking man, but kind to his soldiers. They 
 didn't treat him right : he ought to have had Bur- 
 goyne's sword. But he ought to have been true. We 
 had true men then ; 'twasn't as it is now. Every- 
 body was true : the tories we 'd killed or driven to 
 Canada." 
 
SAMUEL DOWNING. 
 
 15 
 
 "You don't believe, then, in letting men stay at 
 their homes and help the enemy?" 
 
 " Not by a grand sight !" was his emphatic reply. 
 " The men that caught Andre were true. He wanted 
 to get away, offered them everything. Washington 
 hated to hang him ; he cried, they said." 
 
 The student of American history will remember the 
 important part which Arnold performed in the battle 
 connected with the surrender of Burgoyne. Mr. 
 Downing w^as engaged. 
 
 " We heard," he said, " Burgoyne was coming. The 
 tories began to feel triumphant. One of them came 
 in one morning and said to his wife, " Ty (Ticonderoga) 
 is taken, my dear.* But they soon changed their tune, 
 The first day at Bemis Heights both claimed the vic- 
 tory. But by and by we got Burgoyne where we 
 wanted him, and he gave up. He saw there was no 
 use in fighting it out. There's where I call 'em gentle- 
 men. Bless your body, we had gentlemen to fight with 
 in those days. When they was whipped they gave up. 
 It isn't so now. 
 
 " Gates was an ' old granny ' looking fellow. When 
 Burgoyne came up to surrender his sword, he said to 
 Gates, ' Are you a general ? You look more like a 
 granny than you do like a general.' ' I be a granny,' 
 said Gates, ' and I've delivered you of ten thousand 
 men to-day. 
 
 " Once, in the Mohawk valley, we stopped in Wil- 
 liam Johnson's great house. It would hold a regiment. 
 
16 
 
 THE LAST MEN OF THE EEVOLUTION. 
 
 Old Johnson appeared to us : I don't know as you'll 
 believe it. The rest had been out foras-ins;. One had 
 stolen a hive of honey ; some others had brought in 
 eight quarters of good mutton, and others, apples and 
 garden sauce, and so forth. Ellis and I went out to 
 get a sack of potatoes, some three pecks. When we 
 got back to Johnson's, as we were going through the 
 hall, I looked back, and tliere was a man. I can see 
 now just how he looked. He had on a short coat. 
 What to do with the potatoes we didn't know. It 
 wouldn't do to carry them into the house; so I ran 
 down cellar. When the man got to the middle of the 
 ball, all at once he disappeared. I could see him as 
 plain — 0, if I could see you as plain ! 
 
 "By and by they began to talk about going to take 
 New York. There's always policy, you know, in war. 
 We made the British think we were coming to take 
 the city. We drew up in line of battle : the British 
 drew up over there, (pointing with' his hand.) They 
 looked very handsome. But Washington went south 
 to Yorktown. La Fayette laid down the white sticks, 
 and we threw up entrenchments by them. We were 
 right opposite Washington's headquarters. I saw him 
 every day." 
 
 ^' Was he as fine a looking man as he is reported to 
 have been ?" 
 
 " Oh !" he exclaimed, lifting up both his hands and 
 pausing, "but you never got a smile out of him. He 
 was a nice man. We loved him. They'd sell their 
 
SAMUEL DOWNING. IT 
 
 lives for him." I asked, "What do you think he 
 would say if he was here now ?" 
 
 "Say!" exclaimed he, "I don't know, but he'd be 
 mad to see me sitting here. I tell 'em if they'll give 
 me a horse I'll go as it is. If the rebels come here, I 
 shall sartingly take my gun. I can see best furtherest 
 off." 
 
 " How would Washington treat traitors if he caught 
 them?" 
 
 "Hang 'em to the first tree !" was his reply. 
 
 He denounces the present rebellion, and says he only 
 wishes to live to see it crushed out. His father and 
 his wife's father were in the French War. His brother 
 was out through the whole war of the Revolution. 
 He has a grandson now in the army, an officer in the 
 Department of the Gulf,— a noble looking young man, 
 as represented by his photograph. He has been in 
 the service from the beginning of the war. 
 
 " When peace was declared," said the old man, con- 
 cluding his story of the war, " we burnt thirteen can- 
 dles in every hut, one for each State." 
 
 I have given his narrative in liis own words, because 
 to me, as I listened, there was an unequaled charm in 
 the story of the Revolution, broken and imperfect 
 though it was, from the lips of one who was a living 
 actor in it. The very quaintness and homeliness of 
 his speech but added to the impression of reality and 
 genuineness. I felt as I listened to him that the story 
 which he told was true. 
 
18 THE LAST MEN OF THE EEVOLUTION, 
 
 At the close of the war, Mr. Downing returned to 
 Antrim, " too big," as he said, " for Aunty to whip." 
 Soon after his return, he married Eunice George, aged 
 eighteen years. She died eleven years ago. By her 
 he had thirteen children. Three of these are now liv- 
 ing. The one with whom he resides is his youngest 
 son, and, though himself seventy-three years old, his 
 father addresses him still as " Bub." He came from 
 Antrim to Edinburgh in 1794, "And to show you," 
 said he, that there was one place I didn't run away 
 from, I will give you this," handing me the following 
 certificate : 
 
 To All whom it may Coktceek. 
 This may certify that the bearer, Samuel Downing, with his 
 'wife, have been good members of society ; has received the ordi- 
 nance of baptism for their children in our church ; and is recom- 
 mended to any church or society, where Providence is pleased to fix 
 them, as persons of good moral character. Done in behalf of the 
 Session. 
 
 Isaac Coshean, Session Clerk. 
 
 Antrim, Fel. 27, 1794. 
 
 " It must have been a pretty wild country when you 
 €ame here ?" 
 
 " 0, there wasn't a marked tree ; it was all a wil- 
 derness." 
 
 " How came you to come ?" 
 
 They said in Antrim we could live on three days' 
 work here as easy as we could on six there. So we 
 'formed a company to come. There were some twenty, 
 but I was the only one that came. I sold my farm 
 
SAMUEL DOWNING. 1^ 
 
 there, one hundred and ten acres, for a trifle ; and my 
 brother and I came out here to look. As soon as we 
 got here and saw the country, I said to my brother, 
 * I've given my farm away, and have nothing to buy 
 another with : so I've got to stay here. But you've 
 sold well : so you go right back and buy another/ 
 All the land round here was owned by old Domine 
 Gross. I took mine of a Mr. Foster ; and when I'd 
 chopped ten acres and cleared it and fenced it, I found 
 my title wasn't good : that Mr. Foster hadn't fulfilled 
 the conditions on which he had it of Mr. Gross. So 
 we went down together to see the Domine about it. 
 I told him I'd paid for the land. ^No matter,' said he, 
 *it isn't yours.' 'But,' said I, 'Mr. Gross, I've chop- 
 ped ten acres and cleared it and fenced it ; aint I to 
 have anything for my labor V ' I don't thank you/ 
 he replied, 'for cutting my timber.' Then I began to 
 be scared. So says I, ' Mr. Foster, I guess we'd 
 better be getting along towards home,' ' 0, you can 
 have the land,' says the old Domine, ' only you must 
 give me fifty pounds more; and you can make me a 
 little sugar now and then.' ' Well,' said I, ' I will go 
 over to your agent and get the papers.' ' 0, I can do 
 the writing,' said he. So I paid the money and got 
 the land." 
 
 And on it he has lived and labored for seventy 
 years. Its neighborhood to his old battle-grounds 
 might have bad its influence in determining his selec- 
 tion of it for a home. 
 
20 THE LAST MEN OF THE EEVOLUTION. 
 
 At the age of one hundred, Mr. Downing had never 
 worn glasses, or used a cane. The fall before, he had 
 pulled, trimmed, and deposited in the cellar, in one 
 day, fifteen bushels of carrots. His one hundredth 
 birthday was celebrated by his neighbors and friends, 
 upon his farm, with a large concourse, estimated at a 
 thousand persons, the firing of one hundred guns, and 
 an address by George S. Batcheller, Esq., of Saratoga. 
 On this occasion the old man cut down a hemlock tree 
 five feet in circumference, and later in the day a wild 
 cherry tree near his house, of half this size. He 
 says he could do it again, and it is likely that he could. 
 The trees were sold upon the ground, and stripped of 
 their branches by those present for canes and other 
 mementoes of the occasion. The stump of the larger 
 one was sawed off and carried to Saratoga by Robert 
 Bevins, of that place. The axe with which the trees 
 were cut was sold for seven dollars and a half. 
 
 Mr. Downing lives very comfortably with his son, 
 James M. Downing. His health has always been good. 
 His pension, formerly eighty dollars a year, was 
 increased at the last session of Congress to one hun- 
 dred and eighty dollars. He pays no particular atten- 
 tion to his diet ; drinks tea and coffee, and smokes 
 tobacco. He gets tired sometimes, his son says, 
 during the day ; but his sleep at night restores him 
 like a child. It is a curious circumstance that his hair, 
 which until lately has been for many years silvery 
 white, is now beginning to turn black. In a lock of it, 
 
RESIDENCE of SAMUEL D OWING, 
 
 UTH.OF BINGHAM &DODD,miFOflD, CT, 
 
• SAMUEL DOWNING. 21 
 
 lying before me, as I write, there are numerous per- 
 fectly black hairs. 
 
 By religious persuasion, Mr. Downing is a Method- 
 ist. " Why," said he, " I'll tell you : because they are 
 opposed to slavery, and believe in a free salvation." 
 
 He is as stanch in his religious belief as he is in 
 his personal character ; expounds his faith intelligently 
 and forcibly; believes thoroughly what he believes, 
 and rejects earnestly what he rejects. Among the 
 latter is the doctrine of reprobation, concerning which 
 he tells the story of a controversy which he had with 
 an old Methodist preacher, who held and preached the 
 doctrine. 
 
 "'You believe,' said he, ' that God from eternity 
 has elected a part and reprobated a part of mankind T 
 ' Yes,' replied the preacher, ' that is my belief.' -Have 
 you wicked children ?' ' Yes.' ' Do you pray for them ?' 
 ' Yes.' •' Have you wicked neighbors ?' ' Yes.' ' Do 
 you pray for them?' ' Yes.' ' But how do you know 
 but they are reprobated?' He didn't say anything 
 in reply then. A while after I met him, and asked 
 him if he still believed in reprobation. 'No,' he 
 answered, 'I've thrown away that foolish notion.'" 
 
 Mr. Downing's faith in the Invisible is firm and 
 clear, and his anticipation of the rest and reward of 
 Heaven strong and animating. He greatly enjoys 
 religious conversation, invokes a blessing at the table ; 
 and when prayer was offered, at his request, responded 
 intelligently and heartily, in true Methodist style. 
 
22 THE LAST MEN OF THE EEVOLUTION. 
 
 Doubtless, when the earthly house of this tabernacle 
 is dissolved, he will find awaiting him " a building of 
 God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the 
 heavens." 
 
 The sun was drawing low as I left him, to return to 
 Luzerne. My interview w^ith him had been most 
 interesting and delightful. I parted from him with 
 regret. His eyes filled with tears as, in bidding him 
 good-bye, I mentioned that better country where I 
 should hope again to meet him. As I rode away, I 
 turned my eyes southward over the valley of the 
 Mohawk, bounded in the dim distance by the Catskill 
 Mountains. I felt anew how great the change which a 
 hundred years has wrought, which a single lifetime 
 covers. I had just parted from a man still living who 
 had hunted the savage through that valley now 
 thronged with cities and villages—in place of the then 
 almost unbroken wilderness, now fair fields and pleasant 
 dwellings— in place of constant peril and mortal con- 
 flict, now security and peace ; and my heart swelled 
 afresh with gratitude to the men who had rescued 
 their land from the tyrant and the savage, and had 
 made it for their children so fair and happy a home. 
 
DANIEL WALDO. 
 
 23 
 
 DANIEL WALDO. 
 
 From Luzerne I proceeded to Syracuse, the home of 
 Rev. Daniel Waldo, the most widely known of the 
 surviving soldiers of the Revolution. 
 
 There were many circumstances which rendered the 
 anticipation of a visit to him one of great pleasure and 
 satisfaction. Known, as he was, to all his countrymen, 
 all felt acquainted with him and interested in him ; while 
 his intelligence, his wide < familiarity with men and 
 events, and, until of late, the full possession and vigor 
 of his faculties, with his eminently social disposition, 
 the freshness of his feelings,, and his undiminished 
 interest both in the past and the present, combined to 
 render an interview with him, in prospect, one of the 
 rare privileges of a lifetime. Most painful, therefore, 
 was my disappointment on reaching his house to find 
 
24 THE LAST MEN OF THE EE VOLUTION. 
 
 * 
 
 the realization of these anticipations forever forbidden ; 
 the communion of life, so pleasant and prolonged, for- 
 ever terminated ; its story^ told so often and so willing- 
 ly, to be told no more. The hour so long awaited at last 
 had come. Death was dealing with the old man. 
 Already he had done with earthly things ; and, passed 
 into the border realm between the seen world and the 
 imseen, he was awaiting in passive unconsciousness the 
 opening of those mansions in his Father's house, where 
 so long there had been prepared for him a home. 
 
 A fall down a flight of steps, a short time before, 
 though resulting in no immediate bodily injury, gave 
 such a shock to his nervous system that he sunk under 
 it ; and his life, already enfeebled by his extreme age, 
 ebbed quietly and painlessly away. The sight of him, 
 as he lay upon his dying bed, was beautiful and touch- 
 ing. It was like the slumber of a child. His look 
 was HS peaceful and pleasant as when in health ; and 
 upon his wasting features there rested the serene and 
 sweet expression of gentle goodness, breaking, for the 
 moment, into a smile, as, on being addressed, he roused 
 to answer, and then sank again into his dreamless 
 sleep; and as you gazed you no longer w^ondered at 
 the tender and devoted affection which you saw mani- 
 fested towards him in that home. To see him, even 
 without knowing him, was to love him ; and as he 
 lay there, so loved and tended not only with earthly 
 ministries, but, as you could not doubt, with heavenly, 
 the promise, so precious to the believer, seemed 
 
DANIEL WALDO. 25 
 
 already, by anticipation, fulfilled. Already lie had 
 entered into rest. A short time after, on Saturday, 
 the 30th of July, at half-past one in the afternoon, he 
 breathed his last. His age was one hundred and one 
 years, ten months, and twenty days. 
 
 Daniel Waldo was born in Windham, (Scotland 
 Parish,) Conn., on the 10th of September, 1762. He 
 was the son of Zaccheus and Tabitha (Kingsbury) 
 Waldo, and was the ninth of thirteen children. His 
 native town will be remembered as the scene of the 
 famous "Battle of the Frogs" and the fright of the 
 inhabitants thereupon, which formed so favorite a. 
 theme of the humorous ballad literature of the pre- 
 revolutionary period. The old meeting-house, too, is. 
 well known, through the curious and amusing descrip- 
 tion of it given by President D wight in his "Travels." 
 "The spot," he writes, " where it is posited bears not 
 a little resemblance to a pound ; and it appears as if 
 those who pitched upon it intended to shut the church 
 out of the town and the inhabitants out of the church.' 
 
 The earliest ancestor of Mr. Waldo in this country 
 was Deacon Cornelius Waldo, of Ipswich, as early as 
 1654. The line of descent is as follows : Deacon Cor- 
 nelius ; John, of Boston, the first Windham settler; 
 Deacon Edward ; Zacclieus ; and Rev. Daniel. In the 
 female line he was connected, through his great-grand- 
 mother, Rebecca Adams, with the family to which 
 Presidents John and John Quincy Adams belonged. 
 At the time of his death, he was the oldest native of 
 
THE LAST MEN OF THE EEVOLUTION. 
 
 Windham ; and at the last commencement of Yale 
 College, he was reported as the oldest living graduate, 
 belonging to the class of 1788. 
 
 His connection with the war of the Revolution 
 begun in 1778. In that year, being then sixteen years 
 old, he was drafted as a soldier lor a month's service 
 at New London. He subsequently enlisted for eight 
 months in the service of the State ; and during the 
 term of this enlistment, in March, 1779, was taken 
 prisoner by the tories at Horseneck. This will be 
 recollected as the spot rendered famous by Putnam's 
 escape, on horseback, down the stone steps from the 
 height on which the continental troops were posted. 
 The circumstances of Mr, Waldo's capture, as given by 
 himself to the artist who took his photograph, were as 
 follows : One of the guards, on leaving his beat one 
 stormy night, failed to give him warning, and thus the 
 tories surprised him. One ot them snapped a musket 
 at him, but it only flashed in the pan; whereupon he 
 laid down his own musket and made signs of surren- 
 der. But one of the enemy, on pretense that he was 
 about to pick it up again, made a thrust at him with 
 his bayonet, which failed to pierce him. He thereupon 
 demanded to be treated as a prisoner of war ; and lying 
 vdown, the attacking party passed over him into the 
 'house w^hich he was guarding, capturing the whole 
 company (thirty-seven in number) which it contained. 
 With his fellow prisoners Mr. Waldo was carried to 
 Ne\y York, where he was confined in the far-famed 
 
DANIEL WALDO. 
 
 27 
 
 Sugar House " for about two months. There, with 
 the exception of short rations, he was well treated. 
 This terminated his immediate connection with the 
 war. Upon his release by exchange, he returned to 
 his home, in Windham, and resumed his labors on* 
 the farm. 
 
 At the age of about twenty, becoming hopefully a 
 Christian, he resolved to devote himself to the minis-^ 
 try ; and after a brief period spent in preparation, he^ 
 entered Yale College, and graduated, with honors, in. 
 1788.* Among his classmates were Dr. Chapin, of 
 Rocky Hill ; James Lanman, U. S. Senator from Con- 
 necticut ; and the eminent Jeremiah Mason, of Massa- 
 chusetts, with whom he roomed during the last twa 
 years of his college life. He studied theology, after- 
 the manner of his time, with Rev. Dr. Hart, of Pres- 
 ton ; and, after about a year spent in the study, was 
 licensed to preach by the Windham Association, Octo- 
 ber 13, 1789. After preaching in several places, for a 
 short time in each, he was ordained on the 24th of 
 May, 1792, as pastor of the church at West Suffield,. 
 where he remained eighteen years. Here he was mar- 
 ried to Mary Hanchett, by whom he had five children. 
 In 1805, Mrs. Waldo became insane, and died seven 
 years ago, after having been in this state uninterrupt- 
 edly for upwards of fifty years. " I lived," said the 
 old man, in speaking of it, " fifty years with a crazy 
 wife." 
 
 On leaving Suffield, Mr. Waldo went to Columbia^ 
 
 * He was a member, while in college, of its most ancient literary society, the liinonian. 
 
28 THE LAST MEN OF THE EEVOLUTION. 
 
 where he preached a few Sabbaths. While there, a 
 military review took place, and Mr. Waldo was invited 
 to dine with the company. At the table there was a 
 good deal of swearing ; and upon the captain remark- 
 ing to Mr. Waldo, in the course of the dinner, that he 
 was glad he had come to dine with them, and that in 
 t^his he differed from some of his brethren who had 
 declined similar invitations, Mr. Waldo, raising his 
 voice so as to be heard by all present, replied, " My 
 Master was not afraid to dine with publicans and sin- 
 ners, and I am not." As may be supposed, there was 
 no more swearing during the dinner. 
 
 Early in the present century, Mr. Waldo made some 
 missionary tours, in the employ of the Missionary 
 Society of Connecticut, to the states of New York 
 and Pennsylvania,— at that time the Far West." In 
 1811, he went, under the patronage of the Society for 
 promoting Christian Knowledge, to Rhode Island, 
 where he labored nine years. Then, for a few months, 
 in 1820, he supplied the pulpit in Harvard, Massachu- 
 setts ; after which he returned to Connecticut, and in 
 a short time became pastor of the church in Exeter> 
 where he remained twelve years. 
 
 In 1835, he removed to the state of New York, 
 where his son had settled a short time before. In 
 1856, he accompanied his son's family to Syracuse, 
 where he spent the remainder of his days. For more 
 than seventy years he was a minister in the Congre- 
 gational Church. 
 
DANIEL WALDO. 
 
 29 
 
 On the 22d of December, 1856, upon the motion 
 of Hon. Mr. Granger, the representative from his dis- 
 trict, Mr, Waldo being then ninety-six years of age, 
 was chosen chaplain of the House of Representatives ; 
 to which honorable position he was re-elected the fol- 
 lowing year. 
 
 During the exercise of this office he was called to 
 preach the funeral sermon of Preston Brooks, the 
 ruffian assailant of Hon. Charles Sumner, which he 
 did from the text, " To-day shalt thou be with me in 
 Paradise." Upon what principle this text was selected 
 is not known."' While connected with Congress, he 
 spent most of his time in reading, which he greatly 
 loved— not wishing, as he used to say, to hear " the 
 quarrels in the House." On the Sabbath after he had 
 completed his century he preached in the Second Pres- 
 byterian church, Albany, a sermon which he had just 
 prepared, and which, it is said, would have done no 
 discredit to him in the meridian of his life. His last 
 sermon was preached after he had entered upon his 
 one hundred and second year. 
 
 Mr. Waldo never saw either Washington or La 
 Fayette. He served for a short time as chaplain at 
 New London, in the year 1812. In the present con- 
 flict with rebellion he was intensely loyal, greatly de- 
 siring to live till the rebellion should be suppressed. 
 He had implicit faith in the ultimate success of the 
 Union arms and the re-establishment of the authority 
 of the National Grovernment over all the states. 
 
 * Upon reflection, it occurs that the point of connection may be the circumstance that the 
 words were originally addressed to a malefactor. 
 
30 THE LAST MEN OF THE EEVOLTJTION. 
 
 President Lincoln he deemed honest, but not d voided 
 enough. He thought that the leaders of the re,)ellion 
 should be dealt with in such a manner that no one 
 would dare, in the future, to repeat the experiment. 
 
 In his personal habits Mr. Waldo was very careful 
 and regular. His standing advice was to *• eat little." 
 He drank tea and coffee. The control of the temper 
 he deemed one of the most important conditions of 
 health, declaring that a fit of passion does more to 
 break down the constitution than a fever. His mental 
 vigor he retained wonderfully to the last. His memory 
 was excellent, differing from that of most aged people, 
 in that he retained current events with the same 
 clearness as the earlier incidents of his history. 
 
 The closing years of Mr. Waldo's life were passed in 
 great comfort^ in the family of his son. Everything 
 that affection could prompt or refinement suggest, he 
 there enjoyed. His pension, until the last year of his 
 life, had been ninety-six dollars a year ; a hundred 
 dollars was added to it a few months before he died. 
 But this was not needed to secure to him every condi- 
 tion possible of the enjoyment of life. The tenderest 
 ministries of filial affection were bestowed upon him. 
 Of these, a lock of his hair lying before me, soft, silvery, 
 silky, is mute but touching witness. The circle of his 
 friends embraced not only the best society of the city 
 where he dwelt, but the eminent and noble of the 
 land. Wherever he appeared in public, it was only to 
 receive the sincerest honors which a grateful and loving 
 
RESIDENCE of DMIEL WALDO. 
 
 UTH. 0FBIU3HAM &DOaD,HAfiTFORD,CT. 
 
DANIEL WALDO. 
 
 81 
 
 people could pay him ; and in his death he is regretted 
 by all. He lived long to witness and enjoy the great- 
 ness and glory of his country ; and his death was gra- 
 ciously delayed till its still loftier greatness and higher 
 glory were assured. 
 
 The words of one who knew him intimately, and 
 who has recorded his life more worthily, will fitly close 
 this sketch : 
 
 " Mr. Waldo possessed naturally a clear, sound, well 
 balanced mind, with little of the metaphysical or the 
 imaginative. He was a great reader, eagerly devour- 
 ing every work of interest that came within his reach. 
 His spirit was eminently kind and genial, and this, 
 united with his keen wit and large stores of general 
 knowledge, made him a most agreeable companion. 
 He was one of the most contented of mortals. Though 
 he experienced many severe afflictions, and had always 
 from an early period of his ministry one of the heavi- 
 est burdens of domestic sorrow resting upon him, his 
 calm confidence in God never forsook him, nor was he 
 ever heard to utter a murmuring word. As a preacher, 
 he was luminous, direct, and eminently practical ; his 
 manner was simple and earnest, and well fitted to com- 
 mand attention. At the close of a life of more than a 
 hundred years, there is no passage in his history which 
 those who loved him would wish to have erased." 
 
LEMUEL COOK. 
 
 LEMUEL COOK. 
 
 From the home of Mr. Waldo, the most distinguished, 
 I passed to that of Lemuel Cook, the oldest survivor 
 of the Revolution. He lives in the town of Clarendon, 
 (near Rochester,; Orleans county, New York. His 
 age is one hundred and five years. 
 
 Mr. Cook was born in Northbury, Litchfield county, 
 Connnecticut, September 10, 1759. He enhsted at 
 Cheshire, in that state, when only sixteen years old. 
 He was mustered in "at Northampton, in the Bay 
 State, 2nd Regiment, Light Dragoons; Sheldon, Col. ; 
 Stanton, Capt." He served through the war, and was 
 discharged in Danbury, June 12, 1784. The circum- 
 stances of his enlistment and early service he relates as 
 follows : 
 
U THE LAST MEN OF THE EEYOLUTION. 
 
 When I applied to enlist, Captain ITallibud told 
 me I was so small he couldn't take me unless I would 
 enlist for the war. The first time I smelt gunpowder 
 was at Valentine's Hill (West Chester, New York). 
 A troop of British horse were coming. ' Mount your 
 horses in a minute,' cried the colonel. I was on mine 
 as quick as a squirrel. There were two fires— crash ! 
 Up came Darrow, good old soul ! and said, ' Lem, what 
 do you think of gunpowder ? Smell good to you ?' 
 
 '•The first time I was ordered on sentry was at 
 Dobbs' Ferry. A man came out of a barn and leveled 
 his piece and fired. I felt the wind of the ball. A 
 soldier near me said, ' Lem, they mean you ; go on the 
 other side of the road.' So I went over; and pretty 
 soon another man came out of the barn and aimed and 
 fired. He didn't come near me. Soon another came 
 out and fired. His ball lodged in my hat. By this 
 time the firing had roused the camp ; and a company 
 of our troops came on one side, and a party of the 
 French on the other ; and they took the men in the 
 barn prisoners, and brought them in. They were Cow 
 Boys. This was the first time I saw the French m 
 operation. They stepped as though on edge. They 
 were a dreadful proud nation. When they brought 
 the men in, one of them had the impudence to ask, 
 'Is the man here we fired at just now?' * Yes,' said 
 Mf»jor Tallmadge, ' there he is, that boy.' Then he^ 
 told how they liad each laid out a crown, and agreed 
 that the one who brought me down should have the 
 
LEMUEL COOK. 
 
 35 
 
 three. When he got through with his story, I stepped 
 to my holster and took out my pistol, and walked up 
 to him and said, ' If I've been a mark to you for money, 
 I'll take my turn now. So, deliver your money, or 
 your life !' He handed over four crowns, and I got 
 three more from the other two." 
 
 Mr. Cook was at the battle of Bradywine and at 
 Cornwallis' surrender. Of the latter he gives the fol- 
 lowing account : 
 
 " It was reported Washington was going to storm 
 New York. We had made a by-law in our regiment 
 that every man should stick to his horse : if his horse 
 went, he should go with him. I was waiter for the 
 quartermaster ; and so had a chance to keep my horse 
 in good condition. Baron Steuben was mustermaster. 
 He had us called out to select men and horses fit for 
 service. When he came to me, he said, ' Young man, 
 how old are you?' I told him. « Be on the ground 
 to-morrow morning at nine o'clock,' said he. My 
 colonel didn't like to have me go. ' You'll see,' said 
 he, 'they'll call for him to-morrow morning.' But 
 the;^ said if we -had a law, we must abide by it. Next 
 morning, old Steuben had got ray name. There were 
 eighteen out of the regiment. *Be on the ground,' 
 said he^ 'to-morrow morning with two days' provi- 
 sions.' * You're a fool,' said the rest ; * they're going 
 to storm New York.* No more idea of it than of 
 going to Flanders. My horse was a bay, and pretty. 
 Next morning I was the second on parade. We 
 
86 
 
 THE LAST MElSf OF THE EEVOLUTION. 
 
 inarched off towards White Plains. Then ^ left wheel,' 
 and struck right north. Got to King's Ferry, below 
 Tarrytown. There were boats, scows, &c. We went 
 right across into the Jerseys. That night I stood with 
 Jny back to a tree. Then we went on to the head of 
 Elk. There the French were. It was dusty ; 'peared 
 to me I should have choked to death. One of 'em 
 handed me his canteen ; * Lem,' said he, ' take a good 
 horn — we're going to march all night. I didn't know 
 what it was, so I took a full drink. It liked to have 
 strangled me. Then we were in Virginia. There 
 wasn't much fighting. Cornwallis tried to force his 
 way north to New York ; . but fell into the arms of 
 La Fayette, and he drove him back. Old Rochambeau 
 told 'em, 'I'll land five hundred from the fleet, against 
 your eight hundred.' But they darsn't. We were 
 on a kind of side hill. We had plagiiey little to eat 
 and nothing to drink under heaven. We hove up some 
 brush to keep the flies off. Washington ordered that 
 there should be no laughing at the British ; said it 
 was bad enough to have to surrender without being 
 insulted. The army came out with guns clubbed on 
 their backs. They were paraded on a great smooth 
 tot, and there they stacked their arms. Then came 
 the devil— old women, and all (camp followers). One 
 
 said, I wonder if the d d Yankees will give me 
 
 any bread.' The horses were starved out. Washings 
 ton turned out with his horses and helped 'em up the 
 kill. When they see the artillery, they said, ' There, 
 
RESIDENCE of LEMUEL COOK. 
 
 LITH. OF BII/GHM'. i-DOOn.HA.trFOPD, CT. 
 
LEMUEL COOK. 
 
 87 
 
 them's the very artillery that belonged to BurgOyne.' 
 G-reene conie from the southard : the awfullest set you 
 ever see. Some, I should presume, had a pint of lice 
 6n 'em. Is o boots nor shoes." 
 
 The old man's talk is very broken and fragmentary. 
 He recalls the past slowly, and with difficulty ; but 
 when he has fixed his mind upon it, all seems to come 
 up clear. His articulation, also, is very imperfect ; so 
 that it is with difficulty that his story can be made 
 out. Much of his experience in the war seems gone 
 from him ; and in conversation with him he has to be 
 left to the course of his own thoughts, inquiries and 
 Suggestions appearing to confuse him. At the close of 
 the war, he married Hannah Curtis, of Cheshire, 
 Connecticut ; and lived a while in that vicinity ; after 
 which he removed to Utica, New York. There he 
 had frequent encounters with the Indians who still 
 infested the region. One with whom he had some dif- 
 ficulty about cattle, at one time assailed him at a pub- 
 lic house, as he was on his way home, coming at him 
 with great fury, with a drawn knife. Mr. Cook was 
 unarmed ; but catching up a chair he presented it as a 
 shield against the Indian's thrusts, till help appeared. 
 He says he never knew what fear was, and always 
 declared that no man should take him prisoner alive. 
 His frame is large, his presence commanding; and in 
 his prime he must have possessed prodigious strength. 
 He has evidently been a man of most resolute spirit ; 
 the old determination still manifesting itself in his look 
 
83 THE LAST MEN OF THE EEVOLUTION. 
 
 and words. His voice, the full power of which he still 
 retains, is marvellous for its volume and strength. 
 Speaking of the present war, he said, in his strong 
 tones, at the same time bringing down his cane with 
 force upon the floor, " It is terrible ; but, terrible as it 
 is, the rebellion must be put down!" He still walks 
 comfortably with the help of a cane ; and with the aid 
 of glasses reads his ^' book," as he calls the Bible. He 
 is fond of company, loves a joke, and is good-natured 
 in a rough sort of way. He likes to relate his expe- 
 riences in the army and among the Indians. He has 
 voted the Democratic ticket since the organization of 
 the government, supposing that it still represents the 
 same party that it did in Jefferson's time. His pen- 
 sion, before its increase, was one hundred dollars. It 
 is now two hundred dollars. The old man's health is 
 comfortably good ; and he enjoys life as much as 
 could be expected at his great age. His home, at pre- 
 sent, is with a son, whose wife, especially, seems to 
 take kind and tender care of him. Altogether, he is 
 a noble old man ; and long may it yet be before his 
 name shall be missed from the roll of his country's 
 deliverers. 
 
ALEXANDER MILLINEE. 
 
 39 
 
 ALEXANDER MILLINER. 
 
 A few miles from Mr. Cook, at Adam's Basin, on the 
 Rochester and Niagara Falls division of the Central 
 Railroad, lives Alexander Milliner, the fourth of the 
 survivors visited. 
 
 Mr. Milliner was born at Quebec on the 14th of 
 March, 1760. His father was an English goldsmith, 
 who came over with Wolfe's army as an artificer, his 
 wife accompanying him. At the scaling of the Heights 
 of Abraham, he was detailed for special service ; and 
 at the close of the battle, lying down to drink at a 
 spring on the plain, he never rose again ; the cold water, 
 in his heated and exhausted condition, causing instant 
 death. 
 
 His widow remained a while at Quebec, where, as has 
 been said, in the following spring Alexander was born. 
 
40 THE LAST MEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 
 
 While he was yet young, his mother,— whom her son 
 describes as " English, high larnt, understood all lan- 
 guages, had been a teacher,"— removed with him to 
 New York, where, becoming acquainied with a man 
 by the name of Maroney, a well-to-do mason, she mar- 
 ried him. This explains the circumstance of Mr. Mil- 
 liner's nam3 appearing on the pension roll as "Alexan- 
 der Maroney;" — his step-father, by whom, on account 
 of his youth, he was enlisted, doing it under his* own 
 name. The enlistment, Mr. Milliner says, was at New 
 York; though the record of the Pension Office gives 
 it at Lake George. The pension roll, too, gives ninety- 
 four years as Mr. Milliner's age. This is manifestly an 
 error of ten years; since the battle of Quebec, the fall 
 before his birth, occurred on the 13th of September, 
 1759. On the 14th of March, of the present year, 
 therefore, Mr. Milliner was one hundred and four years 
 old. 
 
 Too young at the time of his enlistment for service 
 -in the ranks, he was enlisted as drummer boy ; and in 
 this capacity he served four years, in Washington's 
 Life Guard. He was a great favorite, he says, with 
 the Commander-in-Chief, who used frequently, after 
 the beating of the reveille, to come along and pat him 
 on the head, and call him his boy. On one occa- 
 sion, "a bitter cold morning," he gave him a drink out 
 of his flask. His recollection of Washington is dis- 
 tinct and vivid : " lie was a good man, a beautiful 
 man. He was alwaj^s pleasant ; never changed coun- 
 
ALEXANDEE MILLINER. 
 
 41 
 
 tenance, but wore the same in defeat and retreat as 
 in victory." Lady Washington, too, he recollects, on 
 her visits to the camp. " She was a short, thick 
 woman ; very pleasant and kind. She used to visit 
 the hospitals, was kind-hearted, and had a motherly 
 care. One day the Greneral had been out some time. 
 When he came in, his wife asked him where he had 
 been. He answered, laughing, *^ To look at my boys.' 
 'Well,' said she, 'Iwill go and see my children.' When 
 she returned, the General inquired, ' What do you 
 think of them?' 'I think,' answered she, 'that there 
 are a good many.' They took a great notion to me. 
 One day the Greneral sent for me to come up to head- 
 quarters. ' Tell him,' he sent word, ' that he needn't 
 fetch his drum with him.' I was glad of that. The 
 Life Gruard came out and paraded, and the roll was 
 called. There was one Englishman, Bill Dorchester ; 
 the Greneral said to him, ' Come, Bill, play up this 'ere 
 Yorkshire tune.' When he got through, the General 
 told me to play. So I took the drum, overhauled her^ 
 braced her up, and played a tune. The General put 
 his hand in his pocket and gave me three dollars; then 
 one and anoth er gave me more — so I made out well ; 
 in all, I got fifteen dollars. I was glad of it : my 
 mother wanted some tea, and I got the poor old 
 woman some." His mother accompanied the army as 
 washerwoman, for the sake of being near her boy. 
 
 He relates the following anecdote of General Wash- 
 ington : 
 
42 THE LAST MEN OF THE EEVOLUTION. 
 
 "We were going along one day, slow march, and 
 came to where the boys were jerking stones. * Halt !' 
 eame the command. ' Now, boys,' said the General, ' I 
 will show you how to jerk a stone.' He beat 'em all. 
 He smiled, but didn't laugh out." 
 ^ Mr. Milliner was at the battles of White Plains, 
 Brandy wine, Saratoga, Monmouth, Yorktovvn, and some 
 others. The first of these he describes as " a nasty 
 battle." At Monmouth, he received a flesh wound in 
 his thigh. " One of the officers came along, and, look- 
 ing at me, said, ' What's the matter with you, boy ? 
 VNothing,' I answered. *Poor fellow,' exclaimed he, 
 'you are bleeding to death.' I looked down; the 
 blood was gushing out of me. The day was very 
 warm. Lee did well; but Washington wasn't very 
 well pleased with him." General Lee he describes as 
 *'a large man. He had a most enormous nose. One 
 day a man met him and turned his nose away. ' What 
 
 do you do that for, you d -d rascal V exclaimed he. 
 
 *I was afraid our noses would meet,' was his reply. 
 He had a very large nose himself. Lee laughed and 
 gave him a dollar." 
 
 ■ Of Burgoyne's surrender he says,. " The British sol- 
 diers looked down-hearted. When the order came to 
 A ground arms,' one of them exclaimed, with an oath, 
 *.You are not going to have my gun !' and threw it 
 violently on the ground, and smashed it. Arnold was 
 a smart man ; they didn't sarve him quite straight." 
 He was at the encampment at Valley Forge. " Lady 
 
ALEXANDEE MILLINER. 43 
 
 Washington visited the army. She used thorns instead 
 of pins on her clothes. The poor soldiers had bloody 
 feet." At Yorktown he shook hands with Cornwallis. 
 He describes him as "a fine looking man; very mild. 
 The day after the surrender, the Life Guard came up, 
 Cornwallis sat on an old bench. 'Halt !' he ordered ; 
 then looked at us— viewed us." 
 
 Of the Indian warfare in the Mohawk valley, Mr. 
 Milliner has broken recollections. Of the attack on 
 Fort Stanwix, he gives the following graphic descrip- 
 tion : "The Indians burnt all before them. Our 
 women came down in their shirt tails. The Indians 
 got one of our young ones, stuck pine splinters into 
 it, and set them on fire. They came down a good 
 body of 'em. We had a smart engagement with 'em 
 and whipped 'em. One of 'em got up into a tree— a 
 sharp-shooter. He killed our men when they went 
 after water. The colonel see where he was, and says, 
 ^Draw up the twenty-fbur-pounder and load it with 
 grape, canister, and ball.' They did it. The Indians 
 sat up in a crotch of the tree. They fired and shot 
 the top of the tree off. The Indians gave a leap and 
 a yell, and came down. Three brigades got there just 
 in the nick of time. The Massachusetts Grenadiers 
 and the Connecticut troops went forward, and the In- 
 dians fled." 
 
 In all, Mr. Milliner served six years and a half in. 
 the army. The following is a copy of his pension cer- 
 tificate : 
 
44 
 
 THE LAST MEN OF THE EEYOLUTION. 
 
 United States of America — War Department. 
 
 Pension Claims.'\ 
 
 This is to certify that Alexander Maroiiey, late a drummer in the 
 Army of the Eevolution, is inscribed on the Pension List EoU of 
 the New York Agency, at the rate of eight dollars per month ; to 
 commence on the 19th day of September, 1819. 
 
 In witness whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and affixed the 
 seal of the War Department. 
 
 John C. Calhoun. 
 
 Besides his service in tiie army, Mr. Milliner has 
 served his country five years and a half in the navy. 
 Three years of this service was on board the old frigate 
 Constitution, he being in the action of February 20, 
 1814, in which she engaged the two British ships, the 
 Cyane and the Levant, capturing them both. While 
 following the sea he was captured by the French and 
 carried into Guadaloupe. As a prisoner there, he suf- 
 fered hard treatment. Of the bread which he says he 
 has eaten in seven kingdoms, he pronounces that in 
 the French prison decidedly the worst. 
 
 He still has the little tin case in v\hich, in the old 
 days of British seizure and search, he used to carry 
 his protection papers. The papers themselves are lost. 
 
 At the age of thirty-nine, Mr. MiLiner married 
 Abagail Barton, aged eighteen; and settled in Cort- 
 landt county. New York. To my inquiry, how he 
 came to settle there, his reply was, " 0, I kind o' wan- 
 dered ronnd." For sixty-two years he and his wife 
 lived together, without a death in the family or a coffin 
 in the house. His wife died two years ago. They had 
 
RESIDENCE of ALEXAE'DER MILLENER. 
 
 LITH. OF BINGHAM i DOOD, HAffTrORO. CF. 
 
ALEXANDER MILLINEE. 45 
 
 nine children, seven of whom are now living. The 
 oldest was born in 1800. He has also forty- three 
 grand children, seventeen great-grand-children, and 
 three great-great-grand-children. At the time of his 
 wife's death, Mr. Milliner was still able to cultivate his 
 garden ; his age being one hundred and two years. 
 
 Mr. Milliner's occupation since he settled down in 
 life has been that of farming. His temperament has 
 ever been free, happy^ jovial, careless; and to this, 
 doubtless, is largely owing the extreme prolongation 
 of his life. He has been throughout life full of jokes ; 
 in the army he was the life of the camp ; could danco 
 and sing, and has always taken the world easily, 
 "nothing troubling him over five minutes at a time," 
 care finding it impossible to fasten itself upon him, and 
 so, after trial, letting him alone. His spirits have 
 always been buoyant, nothing depressing him. 
 
 Mention has been made of his wound at the battle 
 of Monmouth, At another time a bullet passed 
 through the head of his drum. At the time his pho- 
 tograph was taken he could still handle his drum, 
 playing for the artist, with excellent time and flour- 
 ishes which showed him to have been a master of the 
 art. He sang also, in a clear voice, several songs, both 
 amorous and warlike ; singing half a dozen verses suc- 
 cessively, giving correctly both the words and the tune. 
 
 His sight is as good yet as when young. He reads 
 his Bible every day without the aid of glasses. His 
 memory is clear respecting events which occurred 
 
46 THE LAST MEN OF THE EEVOLUTION. 
 
 eighty or ninety years ago ; though he finds difficulty 
 in giving long, connected accounts. 
 
 In size, he is small, more so than his picture would 
 indicate. Though never robust, his health has always 
 been good. This has not been from any special care- 
 fulness in his habits — in which he has been careless 
 —rather giving himself and his health no thought. He 
 uses tea and coffee, and still takes regularly his dram. 
 ITis home is at present with his son, Hon. I. P. Milli- 
 ner, of Adam's Basin. His every wish is gratified, so 
 far as is compatible with his welfare ; and even when 
 this is forbidden, still there is no necessity of denying 
 him. since his wish, when expressed and nominally 
 assented to, is at once forgotten by him ; and if he is 
 not reminded of it, is never thought of again. 
 
 In the present conflict with treason, Mr. Milliner's 
 sympathies, as with all his surviving Revolutionary 
 comrades, are enlisted most strongly on the side of the 
 Union ; he declaring that it is too bad that this 
 country, so hardly got, shoiild be destroyed by its own 
 people." He inquires every day or two about the 
 army ; and expresses the desire to live to see the 
 rebellion crushed. At the outbreak of it, he wanted, 
 to take his drum and go down to Rochester, "and beat 
 for volunteers. Two years ago, in September, he pre- 
 sided over a meeting for raising recruits for the One 
 Hundred and Fortieth New York Regiment. His 
 presence at the meeting, it is said, caused great ex- 
 citement and enthusiasm. 
 
ALEXANDER MILLINEE. 47 
 Upon his last birthday (his one hundred and fourth), 
 the Pioneers of Monroe county— a veteran association 
 whose headquarters are at Rochester— went out in a 
 body to Adam's Basin, to pay their respects to their 
 aged associate. Arrived at the Basin, and marching 
 in procession to the house where the old man resides, 
 he appeared upon the steps, and was greeted with 
 cheers. After many had shaken hands with him, the 
 procession was re-formed, the old men heading it, and 
 marched to the church, where, after the singing of 
 Washington's Funeral Hymn by the Pioneers and a 
 short historical address, Mr. Milliner stood up on a 
 seat where all could see him, and thanking them for 
 their kind attention, appealed to them all to be true 
 to their country, saying that he had seen "worse 
 looking visages than his own hung up by the neck." 
 Since that time, his health has rapidly failed; and it is 
 now unlikely that he will live to see another birthday. 
 
 Alexaiifier Milliner, a revolutionary sol- 
 dier, died at Admns' Basin, thirteen miles 
 from Roohester, N. Y., on Tuesday morning, 
 at the age of one hundred and fiire years. 
 There are now only four of the revolutionary 
 heroes alive, so far as is known. 
 
WILLIAM HUTCHINaS 
 
WILLIAM HUTCHINGS. 
 
 4^ 
 
 WILLIAM HUTCHINGS. 
 
 William Hutchings, whose photograph is the fifth 
 in the series, was born in York, York county, Maine, 
 (then Massachusetts,) in 1764. He is, therefore, in 
 his one hundred and first year. 
 
 Mr. Hutchings' connection with the war of the 
 Revolution was but limited. He enlisted at the age of 
 fifteen for the coast defense of his own state ; and 
 this was the only service in which he was engaged 
 during the war. The only fighting which he saw was 
 at the siege of Castine, where he was taken prisoner; 
 but the British, declaring it a shame to hold as prisoner 
 one so young, promptly released him. 
 
 His pension, until the late addition to it, was only 
 twenty-one dollars and sixty-six cents. 
 
<60 THE LAST MEN OF THE EEYOLTJTION. 
 
 The father of Mr. Hutchings had in his early man- 
 hood been familiar with military service, having served 
 in the French War and been engaged in the siege and 
 capture of Louisburg. In his old age he used to say 
 that he had served .under George IL, George III., and 
 also under George Washington, and was ready to serve 
 under Madison. He lived to see his descendants 6;f the 
 fifth generation, by some of whom he was followed to 
 the grave. At the time of his death, there were liv- 
 ing, of those who derived their life through him, ten 
 children, eighty-eight grand-children, two hundred and 
 thirty-five great-grand-children, and seventeen great- 
 great-grand-children —in all, three hundred and fifty. 
 
 At the time of the capture of Louisburg he was a 
 youth of only sixteen years of age, having been born 
 in 1742. In 1768 he removed with his family from 
 York to Penobscot—William, the subject of our sketch, 
 being then four years old. The region at that time 
 was mainly a wilderness, Mr. Hutchings, senior, being 
 one of the earliest settler in it. Here he remained for 
 ten or twelve years, clearing a farm and establishing 
 a home under the usual conditions of hardship and suf- 
 fering incident to pioneer life. His son still recalls 
 those experiences of childhood in his father's house. 
 At times, he says, they were scarcely able to obtain 
 food enough to satisfy the cravings of hunger; and he 
 hais dug clams for their meal, when he was obliged to 
 stop and rest while at his work from faintness through 
 want of food. They were finally, however, beginning 
 
RESIDENCE of WILLIAM HUTCHINGS. 
 
 LITH. OFBIh'GHAM A DOSD. M.RTFOm, Cr. 
 
WILLIAM HUTCHINGS. 
 
 51 
 
 to live comfortably when the British took possession 
 of the neighboring town of Castine, and drove his 
 father from his home, who fled with his family to New- 
 castle, where he abode till the close of the war, while 
 William remained to fight the foe. 
 
 Shortly after the close of the war, Mr. Hatchings 
 was married, at the age of twenty-two years. As the 
 fruits of this union, there were born to him fifteen 
 children, all but one of whom lived to be married. 
 He has been throughout life an early riser and a hard 
 worker; not particularly regular in his habits, often 
 going without food till he could get what he relished ; 
 especially, living near the sea, and being fond of sea 
 food, delaying his meal until it could be procured. He 
 smokes regularly, and uses spirituous liquors mode- 
 rately. His mind is still vigorous, though his body is 
 feeble. His memory is good, retaining dates espe- 
 cially, so that he is a referee in the family in matters 
 of history. He is deeply interested in the present 
 conflict, his whole soul being enlisted in the cause of 
 his country. Speaking of General Grant and his pros- 
 pects of success in his campaign against Richmond, he 
 concluded by saying, « Well, I know two old folks up 
 here in Maine who are praying for him." 
 
 He has lost four or five grand-children in the war. 
 
 His views on the subject of slavery are radical, he 
 declaring that *'Gtod will never ^uffer it to exist in this 
 country.'* 
 
 The old man now lives in the house which he him- 
 
62 THE LAST MEN OF THE EEYCLUTION. 
 
 self built. It stands on an elevatior at the head of 
 Penobscot Bay, surrounded by the rigged headlands 
 of the region, above which, seaward, in the distance, 
 rise the blue peaks of Mount Deseit ; while in the 
 hollow of the hills beneath quietly elbs and flows the 
 never-resting sea. 
 
 Anotber Kevolntlonary Soldier G-oeo 
 Bahgok, Me., May 4. Wm. Hutchings, tlip ift sur- 
 viving revolutionary noWior ia tliis State ancthe last 
 but two or three in tbe Uuion, died on Tliurtav last 
 at his residence in the town of Penobscot in lancock 
 County. His funeral will take place with rtu honors 
 on Monday next. The last public appearan o the old 
 hero was at the celebration of tm 4th July iw his city 
 last vear. He was in his 102d je«r, [The atriotlc 
 speFcii he made on the above occasion was pblished i 
 in Tlie Jourml shortly afterward.] 
 
ADAM LINK. 
 
 53 
 
 ADAM LINK. 
 
 The name of Adam Link introduces the closing 
 sketch of the pensioners of the Revolution. Since his 
 picture was taken, he, also, has passed away by death. 
 
 He was born in Washington county, near Hagers- 
 town, Maryland, November li, 1761. He died at 
 Sulphur Springs, Crawford county, Ohio, August 15^ 
 1864. His age was one hundred and two years, nine 
 months, and one day. 
 
 The circumstances of Mr. Link's life were humble, 
 and his part in the war unimportant. He enlisted at 
 the age of sixteen, in Wheeling, Virginia, for the fron- 
 tier service, and spent five years in that service, most- 
 ly in the vicinity of Wheeling. During this time, his 
 father, Jacob Link, was murdered by the Indians in 
 his own house. Mr. Link was in no important battle 
 of the war. The only interesting circumstance of his 
 
54 THE LAST MEN OF THE EEVOLUTION. 
 
 soldier life was his companionship with Poe, the famous 
 Indian hunter, the incident of whose meeting with the 
 Indian chief upon the shore of the lake whither both 
 had withdrawn from the fight, to wash out their guns, 
 (become foul through use,) — Poe completing first the 
 cleansing of his, and so gaining the first shot, which 
 brought down the Indian, and saved his own life,— is 
 familiar. 
 
 At the age of twenty-eight years, he married Eliza- 
 beth Link, a distant relative of his, her age being 
 seventeen. After this event, being fond of change, he 
 roamed about from place to place, living but a short 
 time in each ; and so spent the earlier part of his life. 
 At the age of sixty, he walked from his home in Penn- 
 sylvania to Ohio, a distance of one hundred and forty- 
 one miles, accomplishing it in three days, an average 
 of forty-seven miles a day. "When seventy years of 
 age, he set about clearing a farm, living the while 
 in a house the main wall of which was formed by the 
 flat roots of an upturned tree. Although always a 
 hard worker, he was always poor, the account of which 
 his habits, which were always irregular, partly furnish 
 and part may be set down to the score of that ill luck 
 which seems to dog the steps of some men through, 
 life. However, he cleared quite a farm after passing 
 the limit of three score years and ten, and remained 
 for some time on it. Finally, he went to live with his 
 son-in-law in Crawford county, Ohio, where he resided 
 until his death. 
 
RESIDENCE of ADAM LINK 
 
 L.:rH. OF BIHOHAM & D0D3, HAHTFORD, CI 
 
ADAM LINK. 
 
 55 
 
 Perpetuating the habits of the frontier service, Mr. . 
 Link roughed it through life. His constitution must 
 have been of iron to have endured his irregularities 
 and excesses. He paid no attention to his manner 
 of eating, either in quantity, quality, or time ; and he 
 was addicted to strong drink. He labored severely 
 and constantly. Notwithstanding all, his health was 
 good till near the very close of his life. A few years 
 before, during a severe thunder storm, his sight was 
 strangely affected by the lightning. For a long time, 
 everything appeared distorted and askew ; men had 
 bent legs and bodies, chickens were twisted out of 
 shape, and the keyhole of his trunk tormented him by 
 the figures which it assumed. From this affection, 
 however, he recovered, though never so as again to 
 read. A short time before his death, he suffered a 
 stroke of paralysis, which deprived him of the use of 
 his limbs to some extent, and made his utterance diffi- 
 cult. However, it left his hearing good and his intel- 
 lect unimpaired. Upon the artist (at his visit for the 
 purpose of procuring his picture) telling him that he 
 had come a long way to see him, he replied, You can 
 see me cheap now. Whatever else," he continued, 
 " they may say of me, no man ever could call me a 
 coward." He has persistently refused to have his pic- 
 ture taken-— that given in this series being secured 
 without his knowledge ; the family fearing the proposal 
 would provoke him, and thus defeat the attempt. In 
 politics, Mr. Link declared himself a "Jeffersonian 
 
56 THE LAST MEN OE THE EEVOLUTION. 
 
 Democrat ;" though his last vote was Republican. He 
 said but little about the present war, frequently for- 
 getting that one was in progress ; and when reminded 
 of it, he failed altogether to comprehend it. One of 
 his great-grand-sons is in the army. 
 
 At the writing of this sketch, he is the last of the 
 survivors of the Revolution known to have died. 
 
JAMES BAEHAM. 
 
 57 
 
 JAMES BAEHAM. 
 
 This is the -name of a soldier of the Revolution— one 
 of the twelve surviving pensioners reported by the 
 Commissioner of Pensions to Congress in February 
 last—of whom it is not known whether he is living or 
 dead. All that is known of him is, that he is recorde(J 
 in the General Pension Office as "on the St. Louis, 
 Missouri, roll, at $32.33 per annum; born in South- 
 ampton county, Virginia, May 18, 1764; age, lOQ 
 years and 7 months ;" and that he was reported by the 
 St. Louis Pension Agency, in March last, as at that 
 time residing in Greene county, in that state. 
 
 ^ Endeavor has been made to find him and procure 
 his photograph and a sketch of his life, but thus far 
 without success. As no intelligence, however, has been 
 received at the Pension Office of his death, the hope 
 may be indulged that he is still living. 
 
 All the remaining pensioners included in the Com- 
 missioner's report are known to be dead. 
 
58 
 
 THE LAST MEN OF THE EEYOLUTION. 
 
 These, then, are the Last Men of the Revolution : 
 Samuel Downing, Alexander Milliner, 
 
 Daniel Waldo, William Hutchings, 
 
 Lemuel Cook, Adam Link, 
 
 James Barham. 
 
 As we name them, our thoughts recall those other 
 seven men, the first of the great series of which these 
 are the last : Jonas Parker, Isaac Muzzey, Jonathan 
 Harrington, Caleb Harrington, Robert Monroe, Samuel 
 Hadley, John Brown. 
 
 Those — the men of Lexington — opened the roll of de- 
 votion and glory ; these close it. How grand a roll ! 
 How signal the period which these names respectively 
 inaugurate and conclude! How great and how im- 
 portant a part of the world's history do these lives 
 embrace ! How vast they seem, — the lives of individ- 
 uals, yet commei^urate with an epoch in the life of the 
 race ! To the student of history there is profound 
 satisfaction in such living connection of one of its great 
 periods with another. The lover of his country will 
 even recognize a favoring Providence in the signal 
 prolongation of their lives— so far beyond the ordinary 
 limit of human existence— as though it were that the 
 first great conflict of the national development might, 
 through its living representatives, impart its sanction 
 and transmit its inspiration to the second. 
 
 But from these more general reflections we turn, in 
 closing, to the men. And well we may ; for while the 
 
CONCLUSION. 
 
 59 
 
 lessons which their lives teach us will remain with us, 
 they themselves will soon be gone. Already their 
 loneliness affects with tender pathos our hearts, — so 
 far away from what to them were life and friends, — so 
 few of all once comrades in battle and victory ! 
 
 "The ranks are thin, and wide 
 Apart in the dim armies of the past ; 
 Faint and afar they stand, who side by side 
 Their steel-clamped colmnns on the foenien cast. 
 
 In the still camp of death 
 The comrades of their toils and triumphs lie ; 
 And marble sentries guard with noiseless breath 
 Their green encampments of Eternity." 
 
 But before they pass to join those far encampments, 
 we rejoice to pay them the tribute of a nation's grati- 
 tude and honor. We honor them in the significance 
 (now through like experience perceived anew) of the 
 great conflict in which they bore a part, and of which 
 they stand to us the representatives. Nor to us alone. 
 For as the Revolution was an event, not in American 
 iilstory only, but in the history of the world, — since 
 the rights contended for in it were " the rights of 
 human nature," — so these few humble men, its alone 
 survivors, are objects of the liveliest interest — the 
 most sacred regard to every lover of liberty through- 
 out the world. They stand forth in all their lowli- 
 ness to all lands and nations and times the representa- 
 tives of that great movement in human history which 
 vindicated liberty as possible to and the right of all. 
 
60 THE LAST MEN OF THE EEVOLUTION. 
 
 With this distinction we may leave them, rejoicing to 
 see how time, over all earthly circumstance, at last 
 crowns and enthrones devotion to a good cause. 
 
 To those engaged in the preparation of this memo- 
 rial, it has been a grateful service. For not only is it 
 a rare privilege, from their historic associations, to 
 have seen these men, but there is that in them which 
 awakens regard, as well as excites interest. They are 
 good old men, kindly, pleasant, Christian; waiting 
 humbly, patiently, and hopefully till their change 
 come. May God support and comfort their closing 
 days! And before they close, may this brief, common 
 record of their lives afford them gratification, as, 
 strangers hitherto, in it they meet, as it were, to- 
 gether; and, comrades in the old common conflict, 
 ta>' each other by the hand, and look into each other's 
 laces, and tell to one another the story of their lives, 
 before they say the last farewell. 
 
LETTEE. 
 
 61 
 
 \_The puUishers wppend a letter received from a medical friend to wliom they 
 had shoivn the advance pages of their little work :] 
 
 Dear Sirs : I thank you for the opportunity of reading the very interesting 
 account of these old patriots " who have come down to us from a former genera- 
 tion." From before the first war of Eevolution, tlieir lives have extended to the 
 greater second Eevolution. Begrinniug life more than a century ago, with hundreds 
 of thousands of their fellows, in their ascending path to the period of manhood, they 
 saw more than half of their number fall out by the way from disease or accidents ; 
 during the most active period and before they came to the down-hil! side of life, 
 their ranks became thinner by swift degrees, until having passed beyond the 
 usual extent of life's march, they are come out a solitary few ! 
 
 Observations made in vital statistics within the last fifty years, with reference 
 to life insurance, have reduced to a degree of accuracy the probabilities of life for 
 any given age, up to three score and ten ; but how many of a population will live 
 beyond a hundred years ? A leader of myriads might well weep to engage in the 
 calculation ! The number is so few that larger tables are necessary than any that 
 have been compiled, in order to approach any accurate result. The number 
 varies in different countries, and also in different portions of the same country. 
 A rural population, that lives with sufficient necessaries and few luxuries of life, 
 contented and laborious in the open air, shows the largest number of centena- 
 rians. In the state of Connecticut, during the year 1863, there weie fom- deathsi 
 of those over a hundred years old, — two males and two females. During the 
 year 1808, there were in France one hundred and twenty-eight persons who had 
 attained their hundredth year — this in a population of about thirty millions. 
 It is known that there are more female centenarians than male. 
 What influences have conduced to such long lives ? These six old patriots 
 -were of different temperaments, of different stature, and have pursued very differ- 
 ent vocations, without much resemblance in their habits of life. Mr. Waldo and 
 Mr. Cook were large and vigorous. Mr. Link is short and stout, with all the 
 good and bad tendencies of the sanguine temperament. Mr. Downing is small, 
 with the nervous temperament predominating ; while Mr. Milliner is quite small, 
 not half as large as Mr. Cook, and not vigorous. 
 
 They have not been alike careful of their health. Mr Waldo was prudent in 
 regard to food, and faithfully avoided all excesses ; while Mr. Link has lived 
 without any rule or restraint. The others have not leen abstemious overmuch* 
 nor yet has either one been intemperate. 
 
62 
 
 THE LAST MEN OF THE EEVOLUTION. 
 
 A sprightly Frenchman has said, that to prolong life it is necessary to have a 
 bad heart and a good stomach. The latter quality is essential ; by the former 
 he meant, a disposition not easily moved, not enthusiastic. He is so far right ; 
 and a temperament not of the susceptible sort is the most favorable to long life. 
 Such was the case with Mr. Waldo particularly. But, as if to confound a rule 
 which seems obviously so correct, the case of Mr. Downing is quite opposite. He 
 is of the nervous temperament. He is easilj' and strongly moved by all exciting 
 subjects, and so has been through life. 
 
 These venerable men seem to agree in several particulars. They have all led 
 industrious, useful lives, and were active in the use of their limbs. They have 
 been cheerful, genial, good-humored, and withal blessed witL good stomachs. A 
 good intellectual condition has accompanied them to the end, and is as remark- 
 able as the persistence of their physical powers. Those who have died seemed 
 not to have had a long period of dotage, which is so common in those growing 
 old. The good use of the mind is favorable to the health of the body. Idiots and 
 insane people are not long lived. Among those who have devoted their lives to 
 science and literature, longevity is notoriously common. It is unnecessary to 
 mention well known names: the fact is well established. 
 
 A certain serenity and contentment of mind is noticeable in these old men. 
 They have not been a prey to the corroding passions: the well-timed pensions 
 from the government, for which they took up arms in their youger days, have re" 
 moved the cares and anxieties for their temporal concerns, which often harrass 
 the aged. A firm, calm, religious belief, f.nd a confiding hope in the future, havo 
 added beauty as well as strength to their latest years. So we see, that the life 
 which is happiest and best here, has the earnest of that life which is eternal. ■ 
 
NOTE. 
 
 63 
 
 NOTE. 
 
 [Between the writing of the Introduction and the preparation of this Note, some 
 time has elapsed and some new facts have beeu secured, which accounts for the 
 discrepancy between the statements ot ages in the two.] 
 
 The revival of interest in the pensioners of the Revolution, which has been so marked 
 and beautiful a feature of the national life of the present year, and of which this work is a 
 product, originated in tbe following action of the House of Representatives in March ^ast. I f 
 On the 14th of the month, the Committee on Revolutionary Pensions reported a resolution, 
 •which was unanimously adopted, " tendering thanks to the surviving soldiers of the Revolu- 
 tion, twelve in number, for their services in that war by which our independence was achieved 
 and our liberty obtained, and sincerely rejoicing that their lives have been protracted 
 beyond the period usually allotted to man ; and that they receive a sum of money, as pen- 
 sioners, whieh shall smooth the rugged path of life on their journey to the tomb; and that 
 copies of this resolution be sent by the Speaker to each Revolutionary pensioner." 
 
 In accordance with this resolution, on the 10th of the month the following Act was passed : 
 An act to jkcrease the pension of thb kevolutionary pensioners now on the koli, op the 
 
 pension office. 
 
 Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Representatives of the United States of America, 
 in Congress assembled: Tbat there shall be paid, out of any money not otherwise appropri- 
 ated, the sum of one hundred dollars per annum to each of the surviving soldiers of the 
 Revolution, now on the pension rolls, during their natural lives, in addition to the pensions 
 to which they are now entitled under former acts of Congress ; said payment to date from 
 and commence on the first day of January, eighteen hundred and sixty-four, and to cease at 
 their doatli." 
 
 Pending this action, to inquiry at the Pension Ofl3.oe respecting the number of surviving 
 pensioners the following answer was returned : 
 
 Pension Ofpicb, February 18, 1864. 
 
 Sir: In reply to your letter of February 10th, requesting me to furnish you with the 
 names of all Revolutionary pensioners, I have the honor to submit the following report, 
 which is believed to furnish, so far as is in my power, the information desired : 
 
 Ja.ves Barham, on the St. Louis, Missouri, roll, $12.33 per annum ; born in Southampton 
 county, Virginia, May 18, 17G4 ; age, 9!) years and 9 months. 
 
 John Goodnow, on the Boston, Massachusetts, roll, at $46.67 per annum ; born in Sud- i 
 bury, Middlesex county, Massachusetts, January 30. 1763 ; age, 102 years and IJ months. 
 
 Amaziah Goodwin, on Portland, Maine, roll, at 138.33 ; born in Somersworth, Strafford p 
 county. New Hampshire, February 16, 1759 ; age, 105 years. 
 
 William Hutchinos, on Portland, Maine, roll, at $21.66 ; born in York, York county, 
 Maine (then Massachusetts), in the year 1764. 
 
 Adam Link, on Cleveland, Ohio, roll, at $30 per annum ; born in "Washington county, v 
 Pennsylvania ; age, 102 years. 
 
 Benjamin Miller, on the Albany, New York, roll, at $24.54 per annum ; born in Spring- 
 field, Massachusetts. April 4, 1764 ; age, 99 years, lOJ months. 
 
 Alexander Maroney, on the Albany, New York, roll, at eight dollars per month ; born 
 in the year 1770, enlisted at Lake George, New York ; age, 94 years ; enlisted by his father, 
 as he was young. 
 
 John Pettingill, on the Albany, New York, roll, at $50 per an»um ; born in Windham, 
 Connecticut, November 30, 1766 ; age, 87 years, 2J months. 
 
 Daniel Waldo, on the Albany, New York, roil, at $96 per annum ; born in Windham, 
 Connecticut, September 10, 1762 ; age, 101 years, 6h months, 
 
 Samuel Downing, (papers do not show his age,) on the Albany, New York, roll, at $80 per 
 annum ; served in the second New Hampshire regiment. 
 
 Lemuel Cook, on the Albany, New York, roll, at $100 per annum ; no age or birthplace 
 given in papers. 
 
 Jonas Gates, on the St. Johnsbury, Vermont, roll, at $8 per month ; papers mislaid, p 
 [Since found to be 101 years old.] 
 
 Respectfully, 
 
 Joseph H. Baeeett, Conjmiasioner. 
 
 Hon. John Law, House of Representatives. 
 
€4 
 
 THE LAST MEN OF THE EEVOLUTION. 
 
 Of these twelve men, seven are accounted for in the preceding pages. Of the remaining 
 five, it is known that they are all dead. Indeed, four were alreadj' dead when the report 
 was rendered, as will appear from the following evidence : 
 
 Depahtmknt of the [ntkrior, Pension Office, Nov, 29, 1864. 
 Gents: Mr. Goodnow of Mass. appears by our books to have died Oct. 22, 1863, and Mr. 
 Miller, Sept. 24, 1863, — both Revolutionary pensioners. 
 
 Respectfully, 
 
 Jos. H, Barrett, 
 
 Commissioner. 
 
 Mess. N. A. & E. A. Moore, Hartford. Conn. 
 
 Alfred, Maine, April 5, 1864. 
 
 Mess. N. A. & R. A. Moore, 
 
 Dear Sirs: Mr. Goodwin died on the 22d day of June last. He had started from this 
 place with his daughter, on the 12th of June, purposing to be at the Bunker Hill celebration 
 on the 17th. They stopped at Dover, N. H., on the night of the day they left here, with a 
 relative ; and Mr. Goodwin was taken sick in the night, and languished until the 22d, when 
 he passed away to his reward. 
 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 Benj. J. Henick. 
 
 The following is from a paper near Henderson, New York: 
 
 Heretofore we have neglected to mention the death of John Pettingill, one of the oldest 
 men that ever lived or died in this county. His death occurred in the town of Henderson, 
 April 23, 1864, aged 99 years. Mr. Pettingill was a Revolutionary soldier, and was in New 
 Jersey in 1778 when the French fleet entered the Delaware. He was at Yorktown the da,y 
 after the surrender of (;ornwallis, the crowning act of Washington in the great drama of 
 our National Independence. He was one of the twelve Revolutionai'y patriots to whom 
 Congress gave an additional bounty of one hundred dollars. 
 
 He had resided in the town of Henderson since its fii-st settlement. His wife,' who survives 
 him, is 85 years old. J ust before the death of our lamented patriot father, he appeared fully 
 conscious that his end was approaching. His son had left the bedside at 12 on the night o"f 
 the 22d. In the morning he was lying in the same position, but his spirit had winged its 
 departure to fairer fields than ours. Thus another and almost the last of our Revolution- 
 ary fathers has gone. 
 
 Pension Agency, St. Johnsbtjrt, Vt., March 19, 1864. 
 Dkar Sirs: Jonas Gates, the last Revolutionary pensioner in Vermont, died at iiis resi. 
 dence in Chelsea, this state, on the 14th of January last, aged 99 years, 6 months, and 8 days. 
 
 Respectfully yours, 
 
 E. D. Redington, Gov. Pen. Agt. 
 
 N. A. & R. A. Moore, Hartford, Ct. 
 
 Giving the deaths in the order of time, the dates are as follows : 
 
 Amaziah Goodwin, June 22, .1863 ; Benjamin Miller, September 24, 1863 ; John Goodnow 
 October 22, 1863 ; Jonas Gates, January 14, 1864; John Pettingill, April 23, 1864; Daniel 
 Waldo, July 30, 1864 ; Adam Link, August 15, 1864. 
 
 This loaves (of the twelve reported) five living. And with this agrees the report of the' 
 Secretary of the Interior lately rendered (December, 1864,) to Congress, from which the fol- 
 lowing is an extract : "Of these patriots to whom pensions for services in the Revol utionary 
 war had been awarded, live still ;ive at very advanced ages." Of these five, the following 
 are the dates of birth in order : 
 
 Lemuel Cook, September 10, 1759 ; Alexander Milliner, March 14, 1760 ; Samuel Downing 
 November 31, 1761 ; William Hutohings, , 1764; James Barham, May 18, 1764. 
 
 These give their ages at the date of this note as follows : 
 
 Lemuel Cook, 105 years and 3 months ; Alexander Milliner, 104 years and 9 months ;1Sam- 
 uel D iwning, 103 years; William Hutchings, 100 years; James Barham, 100 years and 7 
 months. 
 
 One of these five men will be the last survivor of the American Revolution. Which will 
 it be? 
 
 How great will be the break when he is gone ! 
 
 " Be naught but ashes here 
 That keep awhile my semblunce, who was John — 
 Still, when they scatter, there is left on earth 
 No one alive who knew, (consider this !) 
 Saw with his eyes, and handled with his hands 
 That which was from the first, the Word of Life. 
 How will it be when none more .saith, ' I saw V " 
 
 — Browning's Dramatis Personee. 
 
NEW HAMPSHIRE. 
 
 Died in Cornisli, June 14, J865, Mr. Abra- 
 liani Diiy, of that town. He l»ad attained the 
 extraordinary age of one liundred and nine 
 years and eight naontlis, was born in the town 
 of Haclcraatao, state of New Jersey, Oct. 2i), 
 1755. He was a soldier in the revolutionary 
 8truggl#as well as in 1812. He is reported 
 as having been tiie proprietor of the first iron 
 foundry ever established in America. 
 
I