*bv' 
 
 
 , » • • 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 "•' ,r .,„ %. ••' aV 
 
 
 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year iS6^ by 
 
 CHARLES I. BUSHNELL, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the 
 Southern District of New York. 
 
 
THE 
 
 NARRATIVE 
 
 Ebenezer ^ Fletcher, 
 
 A SOLDIER OF THE REVOLUTION, 
 
 Written dy Rhmelf. 
 
 AN INTRODUCTION AND NOTES, 
 
 BY 
 
 CHARLES I. BITSHNELL. 
 
 NEW YORK : 
 
 PRIVATELY PRINTED, 
 — 1866.— 
 
 r 
 
GENERAL BURGOYNE. 
 
TO 
 
 DEXTER FLETCHER, 
 
 OF MOUNT VERNON, N. H., 
 
 THE ELDEST SURVIVING SON OF 
 
 EBENEZER FLETCHER, 
 
 THIS TRACT 
 
 IS RESPECTFULLY 
 
 DEDICATED. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 jBENEZER FLETCHER, the author of the 
 following narrative, was the son of John 
 Fletcher, and was born in New Ipswich, in 
 the State of New Hampshire, on the fifth day of February, 
 1161. His mother's maiden name was Elizabeth Foster. 
 She was the daughter of Abijah Foster, a farmer of New 
 Ipswich, and one of the first settlers of the place. 
 
 After receiving the rudiments of a plain, common school 
 education, our author, when alDout fourteen years of age, 
 was placed under the care of Samuel Cummings, of New 
 Ipswich, who built and then owned the mills at Mill 
 Village. He continued with him until the spring of the 
 year 1177, when he enlisted as a fifer in Capt. Carr's 
 company, in the battalion conmianded by Col. Nathan 
 Hale, of New Hampshire troops, to serve for the period of 
 
b INTRODUCTION. 
 
 'three years. The battalion marched soon after to Ticoii- 
 cleroga, and composed for a while a part of the garrison of 
 that fort ; but on the approach of General Burgoyiie, the 
 army evacuated the post, and while on their retreat, were 
 overtaken by the enemy at Hubbardton, where a sharp 
 action took place, in which Mr. Fletcher was severely 
 wounded and taken prisoner. He continued with the 
 British for a few weeks, when, having partially recovered 
 from his wounds, he succeeded in effecting his escape, and 
 after severe trials in the wilderness and among the moun- 
 tains, without food or company, he at length reached the 
 house of a friend, where he remained a few days, and then 
 returned to his home. On recovering his health, he 
 rejoined his company, and served the remaining part of his 
 term of enlistment, being, in the fall of n79, in the mem- 
 orable Indian expedition under the comniaud of General 
 Sullivan, and receiving his discharge from the army on the 
 twentieth day of March of the following year. 
 
 On his return from the war, he again entered the service 
 of Mr. Cummings, his former employer, and after remaining 
 with him a while, he at length purchased from him tlie 
 mills at Mill Village, and carried them on successfully for a 
 number of years. He subsequently engaged in the business 
 of trunk making, which occupation he pursued until within 
 a short period of his decease. 
 
INTRODUC IION. . i 
 
 Mr. Fletcher was twice married. His first wife was Miss 
 Polly Curamings, an estimable lady, and the daughter of 
 Mr. Samuel Cummings, before named. She was born in 
 New Ipswich, on the sixteenth of December, 1758, was 
 married in 1786, and died on the twenty-sixth day of Feb- 
 ruary, in the year 1812. By her, Mr. Fletcher had six 
 sons and six daughters. His second wife was Mrs. Mary- 
 Foster, widow of Nathaniel Foster, of Ashby, Mass., and 
 daughter of Asa Rendall, whose occupation was that of a 
 farmer. This lady was born in Dunstable, Mass., on the 
 twenty-ninth of December, 1766, became the wife of Mr. 
 Fletcher in the month of June, 1812, and died in Winchen- 
 don, Mass., on the twenty-fifth day of January, 1851. By 
 this union, there was no issue. 
 
 Mr. Fletcher was short in stature, being but about five 
 feet three inches tall, and proportionably slim, but remarka- 
 bly active in his movements. He had blue eyes and fair 
 complexion, and his features were small and delicate. He 
 was amial)le in his disposition, modest in his deportment, 
 and, though a man of few words, he was cheerful, kind 
 hearted, and a good friend to the poor. Although always 
 sustaining a moral. Christian character, yet he does not 
 seem to have made a public profession of religion until the 
 year 1813. He was then baptised by immersion, and 
 joined the close communion Baptists of his native place. 
 
8 INTKODUCTION. 
 
 He was fond of singing, and, at church, he usually sat with 
 the choir. He was an exemplary professor of religion, and 
 was noted for his industry, and his strict integrity. 
 
 After a life of activity and usefulness, he died in New 
 Ipswich, on the eighth day of May, 1831, in the tlst year 
 of his age, in the hope of a blessed immortality. The Rev. 
 Asaph Meri-iara, then pastor of the Baptist meeting-house, 
 preached his funeral sermon, taking his text from the 31th 
 chap. Psalms, 37th verse — " Mark the perfect man, and 
 behold the upright : for the end of that man is peace." The 
 remains of the deceased, followed by a large number of rela- 
 tives and friends, were then conveyed to the burial ground 
 in Mill Village, being the southerly part of the town of 
 New Ipswich, where they w^ere committed to their kindred 
 dust. A plain, but neat tombstone, bearing his name, age 
 and time of decease, marks the spot of his repose. 
 
 In conclusion, we would state that the narrative, written 
 by himself, of his adventures during the Revolutionary war, 
 was originally published in the year 1813. In 182T a fourth 
 edition had appeared. This was reproduced on the 30th 
 day of January, 1863, in the columns of the "Sentinel," 
 a newspaper published in Fitchburg, Massachusetts. The 
 present issue has been taken from one of the original 
 imprints of 1827, that being the author's last revised and 
 most improved edition. 
 
AiEiB^s n^ 
 
 CAPTIVITY & SUFFERINGS 
 
 Ebenezer Fletcher, 
 
 OF NEW-IPSWICH, 
 
 Who tuas severely zuounded and taken prisoner at the battle of 
 Hubbardston, Ft., in the year \JJ7, by the British and 
 Indians, at the age of 1 6 years, after recovering in 
 part, made his escape from the enemy, and 
 travelling through a dreary wilderness, fol- 
 lowed by wolves, and beset by Tories on 
 his zuay, who threatened to take him 
 back to the enemy, but made his es- 
 cape from them all, and arrived 
 safe home. 
 
 Written by himself, and published at the request of his 
 friends. 
 
 FOURTH EDITION. 
 
 REVISED AND ENLARGED. 
 
 NEW-IPSWICH, N. H. 
 
 PRINTED BY S. WILDER, 
 
 — 1827.— 
 
GEJNTEBAL FKASEE, 
 
N A U U A T I V E 
 
 EBENEZEIi FLETCI IE R, enlisted 
 into the C'Ontii)ental Army, in Capt. 
 CaiT\s(i) ('()uipany,0 in Col. Natlian 
 Hale's (3) Regiment, (1) as a fifer, and joined the 
 Ai-nij at Ticonderoga, (■) nndcr the command of 
 Gen. St. Clair, (c) in the spring of 1777, at wliicli 
 place I was stationed till the retreat of the Army 
 on tiic Gth of July following. (7) 
 
 Early on the morning of the same day, orders 
 came to strike onr tents and swing our packs. It 
 was generally conjectured that we were going to 
 hattle ; but orders came immediately to inarch. 
 
12 NARRATIVE. 
 
 We niarclied some distance before liglit. By sun- 
 rise tlie enemy had landed from their boats, and 
 pursued us so closely as to fire on our rear. A 
 large l)ody of the enemy followed us all day, but 
 kept so far behind as not to be wholly discovered. 
 Their aim was to attack us suddenly next morning, 
 as they did. 
 
 Having just recovered from the measles, and not 
 being able to march with the main body, I fell in 
 the rear. The morning after our retreat, orders came 
 very early for the troops to refresh and be ready 
 for marching. Some were eating, some were cook- 
 ing, and all in a very unfit posture for battle. Just 
 as the sun rose, there was a cry, " the enemy are 
 itjpon us.'''' Looking round I saw the enemy in line 
 of battle. Orders came to lay down our packs and 
 be ready for action. The fire instantly began. (>») 
 We were but few in number compared to the 
 enemy. At the commencement of the battle, many 
 of our party retreated back into the woods. Capt. 
 Carr came up and says, " My lads advance, we 
 shall beat them yet." A few of us followed him in 
 view of the enemy. Every man was trying to 
 secure himself behind girdled trees, wdiicli were 
 
NAEEATIVE. 13 
 
 standing on the place of action. I made shelter for 
 myself and discharged my piece. Having loaded 
 again and taken aim, my piece missed fire. I 
 brought the same a second time to my fixce ; but 
 before I had time to discharge it, I received a mns- 
 ket ball in the small of my back, and fell with my 
 gun cocked. My uncle, Daniel Foster,* standing 
 but little distance from me, I made out to crawl to 
 him and spoke to him. He and another man lifted 
 me and carried me back some distance and laid me 
 down behind a large tree, where was another man 
 crying out most bitterly with a grievous wound. 
 By this time I had bled so freely, I was very weak 
 and faint. I observed the enemy were like to gain 
 the ground. Our men began to retreat and the 
 enemy to advance. Having no friend to aft'ord me 
 any relief, every one taking care of himself, all 
 things looked very shocking to me ; to remain 
 where I was and fall into the hands of the enemy, 
 especially in the condition I was in, expecting to 
 receive no mercy, it came into my mind to con- 
 ceal myself from them if possible. I made use of 
 
 * All we know of this pei-sou is that he came from Coucord, iu the 
 county of Merrimac and State of New Hampshire. — Ed. 
 
14 NARRATIVE. 
 
 my hands and knees, as well as 1 could, and crawled 
 about two rods amoni>; some small hrnsL, and got 
 under a log. Here I lay concealed from tlie 
 enemy, who came instantly to the place I lay 
 wounded at. What became of my distressed part- 
 ner I know not. The enemy ])nrsued our men in 
 great haste. Some of them came over the log 
 where I lay. Some came so near I could almost 
 touch them. I was not discovered l>y the enemy 
 till the battle was over. When they were picking 
 up the dead and wounded among the brush and 
 logs, I heard tliem coming towards me, and began 
 to be much terrified, lest I should be found. I 
 flattered myself tliat our men wduld come back 
 after the battle was over and take mo off; but to 
 my great surju'ise, two of tlie enemy came so nigh, 
 I heard one of tliein say, "Here is one of the 
 rebels." T lay flat on my face across my hands, 
 rolled in my blood. I dared not stir, l)eing afraid 
 they meant me, b_y saying, "here is one of the 
 rel:)els." They soon came to me, and ])ubed olf uiy 
 shoes, suj^posiug me to be dead. I looked up and 
 spoke, telling them I was thcii- prisoner, and begged 
 to be used well. " Damn you," saj's one, " you 
 
NARRATIVE. 15 
 
 deserve to boused well, don't you? What's such 
 a 3^oung rebel as you lii^ditiug for?" One of these 
 meu was an officer, who appeared to be a pretty 
 sort of a man. He spoke to the soldier, who had 
 taken my shoes, and says, "Give back the shoes 
 and help the man into camp." My shoes were 
 given back by the soldiei- according to order. The 
 soldier then raised me ui)on my feet, and conducted 
 me to the British camp. Here I found a number 
 of my brother soldiers in the same situation as 
 myself. I was laid on the gi-onnd and remained in 
 this posture till the afternou]!, before my W'Ound 
 was dressed. Two Doctors came to my assistance. 
 They raised me up, and exiuuined my back. One 
 of them said, "My lad, you stood a nari-ow chance; 
 had the ball gone in or out half its bigness, you 
 must have been killed instantly." I asked him if 
 he thought there was any prospect of my getting 
 well again. lie answered, " There is some pros- 
 pect." I concluded l)y his rej)ly, he considered my 
 case hazardous. The Doctors appeared to be very 
 kind and faithful. They pulled several i)icccs of my 
 clothes from my woun<l. which wei-e forced in by 
 the ball I received. 
 
16 NARRATIVE. 
 
 Some of the enemy were very kind ; while others 
 were very spiteful and malicions. One of them 
 came and took my silver shoe-buckles and left me 
 an old ]»air of l)rass ones, and said exchange was no 
 robbery ; but I thought it robbery at a high rate. 
 Another came and took off my neck handkerchief. 
 An old negro came and took my fife, which I 
 considered as the greatest iusult I had received 
 while with the enemy. The Indians often came 
 and abused me with tlieir language; calling us 
 Yankees and rebels ; but tliey were not allowed to 
 injure us. I was stripped of everything valuable 
 about me. 
 
 The enemy soon marched back to Ticonderoga, 
 and left only a few to take care of the wounded. I 
 was treated as well as I could expect. Doctor Haze 
 was the head Doctor, and lie took true care that the 
 prisoners were well treated. Doctor Blocksom, an 
 under surgeon, appeared to be very kind indeed : 
 he was the one who had the care of me : he never 
 gave me any insulting or abusive language ; he 
 sometimes wonld say, " Well, my lad, think you'll 
 be willing to list in the King's service, if you should 
 get well V My answer was always no. The 
 
NAEKATIVE. lY 
 
 officers would flatter me to list in their service; 
 telling me they were very sure to conquer the 
 country, since they liad got our strongest post.. I 
 told them I should not list. 
 
 But among all the troubles I met with, I received 
 particular favors from two of the British. This 
 conduct appeared to me very remarkable; why 
 or Avherefore it should be I knew not ; but lie who 
 hath the hearts of all men in his hands, o-avc me 
 favor in their sight. They wonld often visit me, 
 and asked me if I wanted anything to eat or drink. 
 If I did, I had it. The first time one of these 
 friends came to me, was soon after I w\as brought to 
 the camp. 
 
 As I lay on the ground, he asked me if I did 
 not want a bed to lie on : I told him I did : he 
 went and got a large hemlock bark, and finding 
 many old coats and overalls, taken from the dead 
 and wounded, he put them in the bark, made me a 
 bed, and laid me into it. He built a shelter over 
 me with barks, to keep the rain from me, which was 
 a great kindness, as it rained exceeding hard the 
 next night. He went to a spring, and brought me 
 water as often as I wanted, which was very often, 
 
IS NAKKATIVE. 
 
 being very diy : my loss of blood occasionini;' iiiucli 
 thirst. He iisked me, also, if I wanted to eat. I 
 answered yes : for liavini;:; eat but little that da}^ I 
 was very faint and liungry. He told me he did not 
 know as it was in his power to procure anything 
 for me, but would go and try. After an absence of 
 considerable time (certainly the time seemed long) 
 he returned with a piece of broiled pork and 
 broiled liver, telling me this was all the food he 
 could get : I thanked him, and tokl him it was very 
 good. 
 
 The next day lie came and told me lie had orders 
 to marcli, and must therefore leave me : was very 
 sorry he could stay no longer with me, but lioped 
 somebody would take care of me; taking me by 
 the hand he wished me well and left me. 
 
 The loss of so good a friend grieved me exceed- 
 ingly ; but I soon heard that my other friend was 
 ordered to stay behind to help take care of tlie 
 wounded. My spirits, wliicli before were very 
 much depressed, when I heard of this, were mucli 
 exhilarated ; and once more I felt tolerably happy. 
 The difference in mankind never struck me more 
 sensibly than while a prisoner. Some would do 
 
NAKKATIVE. 19 
 
 everything- in their power to make me eoinf(trtal>le 
 and cheerful ; while otliers abused me with the 
 vilest of language ; telling me that the prisoners 
 would all be hanged ; that they would drive all the 
 damned rebels into the sea, and that their next 
 winter quarters wouhl l)e in Boston. They cer- 
 tainly wintered in Boston ; but to their great 
 disappointment and chagrin, as 2)>'i-so7iers of tvar. 
 
 But to return. My wound being now a little 
 better, I began to tliink of escaping from the 
 enenl3^ Two of my fellow- prisoners agreed to 
 accompany me ; one of them being well acquainted 
 witli the way to Otter Creek, (i.) This plan, liow- 
 ever, failed ; for l)efore we ]uid an o])portunity for 
 making our escape, Doctor Haze called upon my 
 companions to be ready to march for Ticonderoga : 
 telling them that the next morning they must leave 
 this place. Thus I found, that as soon as the 
 prisoners were able to ride, they were ordered 
 to Ticonderoga. Being thus disappointed I begged 
 of the Doctor to let me go with them. Says he, 
 " You are very dangerously wounded, and it is 
 improper for you to ride so far yet ; but as soon as 
 you are able you shall go." Being thus defeated I 
 
20 NAEKATIVE. 
 
 again resolved to run away, even if I went alone, 
 and it w^as not long before 1 had an opportunity. 
 As all the prisoners were sent off except such 
 as were badly wounded, they thought it unneces- 
 sary to guard ns very closely. I soon was able to 
 go to the spring, which was at a little distance 
 from the camp. Thither I often went for water for 
 myself and the Hessians, (lo) who, by the way, 
 appeared to be pleased with me. I often waited 
 upon them, brought them water, made their beds, 
 &c., and found my fare the better for it. I often 
 walked out into the woods where the battle was 
 fought ; went to the tree where I was shot down, 
 observed the trees which were very much marked 
 with the balls. Looking around one day, I found 
 some leaves of a Bible ; these I carried into the 
 canij), and diverted myself by reading them ; for I 
 felt much more contented when I had something 
 to read. My friend, whom I have before men- 
 tioned, one day brought me a very good book, 
 which he told me to keep as a present from him. 
 This I heartily thanked him for, and whenever 
 I was tired by walking would lay down and 
 read. 
 
NAEEATIVE. 21 
 
 On tlie 22d of July, a number of men cume down 
 from Ticondcroga, Avitli horses and Utters sufficient 
 to carry off tlic remainder of the wounded. Doctor 
 Haze came to us and tohl us, that to-morrow w^e 
 should all be carried where we should have better 
 care taken of us. Says he, " I will send the 
 orderly sei-geant, who will see that your bloody 
 clothes are well washed." This lie thought would 
 be very agreeable news to us. I pretended to be 
 very much pleased, though I was determined never 
 to go. I told tlie person who lay next to me that I 
 intended to run away ; desired him to make them 
 believe I had taken tlie nortli road, if they inclined 
 to pursue me, for I should take the south. Says 
 he, " I will do all in my power to assist you, and 
 wish it was possible for me to go with you." 
 
 I made it my business that day to procure pro- 
 visions sufficient for my journey. I had spared a 
 little bread from my daily allowance, and although 
 dry and mouldy, yet it was the best to be had. I 
 had a large jack-knife left of wliicli the enemy had 
 not robbed me ; I sold this for a pint of wine, think- 
 ing it would do me more good on my march than 
 the knife, as the event proved. The wine I put in 
 
22 NARRATIVE. 
 
 a bottle, and carefully stowed it in my pocket. I 
 was hard put to it to get my sliirt waslied and dried 
 before evening. However, agreeing with some to 
 make their beds if they would dry my shirt, it was 
 ready to put on by dark. I then went to my tent, 
 took off my coat and jacket, and put on my clean 
 shirt over my dirty one, and liaving filled my 
 pockets with the little provision I had saved, I 
 began to march homeward shoeless ; reflecting what 
 I should do for so material a }»art of my clothing. 
 It came into my mind that one Jonathan Lambart 
 had died of his wounds a day or two before and left 
 a good pair of shoes. Supposing my right to them 
 equal to any other person, I took them and put 
 them on. 
 
 It being dark, I went out undiscovered, and 
 steered into the woods. After going a little way, I 
 turned into the road and made a halt. Now was 
 the trying scene ! The night being very dark, 
 everything before me appeared gloomy and dis- 
 couraging ; my wound was far from being healed ; 
 my strengtli much reduced by tlie loss of blood, 
 pain and poor living; thus situated, to travel alone, 
 I knew not where, having no knowledge of the way, 
 
NARRATIVE. 23 
 
 I tliouglit would be highly presumptuous. How 
 far I should have to travel before I could reach any 
 inhabitants, I could not tell : Indians, I supposed, 
 were lurking about, and probably I might be beset 
 by them and murdered or carried back: and if I 
 avoided them, perhaps I might perish in the 
 wilderness. 
 
 Reflecting upon these things, my resolution 
 began to flag, and I thought it most prudent to 
 return and take my fate. I turned about and went 
 back a few rods, when the following words struck 
 me as if whispered in my ear : Put not your hands 
 to the plough and look hack. I immediately turned 
 about again, fnlly resolved to pursue my jonrney 
 through the woods ; but before morning, had I 
 been possessed of millions of gold, I would freely 
 have given the whole to have been once more with 
 the enemy. The road which I had to travel, was 
 newlj' opened, leading IVom Ilubbardston(ii) to 
 Otter-Creek. The night being dark and the road 
 very crooked, I found it very diflicult to keep it; 
 often running against trees and rocks, before I 
 knew I was out of it ; and then it was with much 
 trouble that I found it ao-ain, which sometimes I 
 
24 NARRATIVE. 
 
 was obliged to do upon loy liands and knees, and 
 often np to my knees in mire. 
 
 Abont 12 o'clock I lieard something coming 
 towards me; wbat it could be I knew not. I halted 
 and looked back; it was so dark I was at a loss to 
 determine what it was : Imt tliunght it looked like 
 a dog. That a dog shoukl be so far from inhab- 
 itants, I thonglit very strange. I at once concluded 
 that he belonged to the Indians, and that they 
 were not far off. I however ventui-ed to speak to 
 him, and he immediately came to me; I gave him 
 a piece of mouhly bread, wliich lie eat and soon 
 appeared fond of me. At first I was afraid lie 
 would betray me to the Indians; but soon found 
 him of service ; Ibr I had not gone far before I 
 heard the noise of some w^ild beast. I had just set 
 down to rest me, with my buck against a tree, 
 my wound l)eing very painful. As the beast 
 approached, my dog appeared very much frighted ; 
 laid close down l)y me and trembled, as if he 
 expected to be torn in pieces. I now began to be 
 much terrified ; I however set very still, knowing it 
 would do no good to run. He came within two 
 rods of me, and stopj^ed. 1 was unable to deter- 
 
NAKRATIVE. 25 
 
 mine Avhat it was, but supposed it was a wolf. I 
 soon found 1 was not mistaken. After looking at 
 me some time, he turned about and M'ent oif ; but 
 before loug- returned with a large reinforcement. 
 In his absence 1 exerted myself to the utmost to 
 get forward, fearing he w^ould be after me again. 
 After travelling about half an hour, 1 was alarmed 
 with the most horrible howliug, which I su imposed 
 to be near the tree which 1 rested by. Judge what 
 my feelings were, when I found these beasts of prey 
 were pursuing me, and expected every minute to 
 be devoured by them. But in the midst of this 
 trouble, to my infinite joy, I discovered fires but a 
 little way before me, which, from several circum- 
 stances, I was sure were not built by Indians ; I 
 therefore at once concluded they were fires of some 
 scouting party of Americans, and I made great 
 haste to get to them, lest I should be overtaken by 
 the wolves, which were now but a little behind. I 
 approached so near the fires as to hear men talk, 
 when I immediately discovered them to be enemies. 
 Thus disappointed I knew not what course to take ; 
 if I continued in the woods, I should be devoured 
 by wdld beasts ; for having eat of the bodies which 
 
26 NAKRATIVE. 
 
 were left on the field of battle, they continued 
 lnrkin2; for more. If I gave myself up to the 
 enemy, I should certaiidy be carried back to Ticon- 
 deroga, and to Canada, and probably fare no better 
 for attempting to run away. Which way to esca])e 
 I knew not; I turned a little out of tlie patli and 
 lay down on the ground to hear what was said by 
 the enemy, expecting every moment they would 
 discover me : the darkness of the night, however, 
 prevented. These howling beasts approached as 
 near the fires as they dared, when they halted and 
 continued their liorrid yell for some time, being 
 afraid to come so nigh as I was. After the howling 
 had ceased, I began to think of getting round the 
 enemy's camp ; being pretty certain tliat, as yet, I 
 was not discovered. I arose from the ground and 
 took a course, whicli 1 thought would cariy^ me 
 round the enemy's camp. After travelling a little 
 way, I came to the foot of a high mountain ; to go 
 round it I thought would carry me too much out of 
 my course ; I resolved therefore to ascend it ; with 
 much difficulty I arrived at the top, then took a tack 
 to the right ; travelling that course some time I 
 found I was bewildered and lost, and which way to 
 
NARRATIVE. 27 
 
 go to find the road again I knew not, liaving neither 
 moon nor stars to direct me ; so I wandered about 
 in this wilderness till almost day, when I became so 
 fatigued and worried, tliat I was obliged to lay 
 down again. Judge what a person's feelings nmst 
 be in such a situation. 
 
 I now repented of my ever leaving the enemy. 
 Here I was lost in the woods, with but very little 
 provision, my wounds extremely painful, and little 
 or no prospect of ever seeing human beings again. 
 Thus I lay and reflected, my dog walking round me 
 like a faithful sentinel, till I fell asleep ; but was 
 soon alarmed with tiie noise of cannon, which I 
 concluded by the direction must be at Ticonderoga. 
 Never was sound mure grateful to my ears than 
 this cannon. I tlioiiglit I might possibly live to 
 reach the place, and though an enemy's camp, 
 I Avould have given anything to be with them 
 again. 
 
 Soon after the morning gun was tired, I heard 
 the drums beat in the camp which I had visited in 
 the night : this noise was still more grateful, for I 
 was sure they were not at a great distance. With 
 much difticnlty I got upon my legs again, with 
 
28 NAKEATIVE. 
 
 a deterniiiiation to go to their camp. I found, 
 however, that I could scafrcely stand ; for having 
 hiid down wlien I was very sweaty, I liad taken 
 cold, and was so stiff and sore, that I could hardly 
 move. I now liad recourse to my little bottle of 
 wine, which relieved me very much, and then 
 began to march towards the drums, which still 
 continued beating. 
 
 After travelling a little way, I heard a cock crow, 
 Avhich appeared near the drums. I thought it 
 of little consequence which object to pursue, both 
 being nearly in the same direction. But the noise 
 of the drums soon ceased, and I steered for the other 
 object, which soon brought me into open land and 
 in sight of a house. I got to the door just as the 
 man arose from his bed. After the usual compli- 
 ments, I asked him how far it was to the British 
 encampments ? He answered about fifty rods. 
 '' Do you want to go to them ?" says he. I never 
 was more at a stand what reply to make. As none 
 of the enemy appeared about the house, I thought 
 if I could persuade this man to befriend me, I 
 possibly might avoid them ; but if he sliould prove 
 to be a tory, and know from whence I came, he 
 
NAEKATIVE. 29 
 
 would certainly betray me. I stood perhaps a 
 minute witliout saying a word. He seeing my con- 
 fusion, spoke again tome: "Come," said he, "come 
 into the house." I went in and sat down. I will 
 tell you, said I, what I want, if you will promise 
 not to hurt me. He replied, " I will not injure 
 you, if you do not injure us." This answer did not 
 satisfy me, for as yet I could not tell whether he 
 would be a friend or foe. I sat and viewed him 
 for some minutes, and at last resolved to tell him 
 from whence 1 came and where I wished to go, let 
 the event be what it would. I was a soldier, said 
 I, in the Continental army, was dangerously wounded 
 and taken prisoner, had made my escape from the 
 enemy, and after much fatigue and peril, had got 
 through the woods, being directed to this house by 
 the crowing of a cock. He smiled and said, "You 
 have been rightly directed, for had you gone to 
 either of my neighbors, you undoubtedly would 
 have been carried to the enemy again ; you have 
 now found a friend, who will if possible protect 
 you. It is true they have forced me to take the 
 oath of allegiance to the king ; but I sincerely hope 
 the Americans will finally prevail, for I believe 
 
30 ' NARRATIVE. 
 
 tlieir cause to be just and equitable ; should tliey 
 know of my harboring rebels, as they call us, I 
 certainly should sutler for it. Anything- I can do 
 for you without exposing my own life, I will do." 
 I thanked him for liis kindness, and desired him not 
 to expose himself on my account. 
 
 After givino; me something to eat and drink, he 
 concealed me in a chamber, where he said I might 
 stay till the dew was off and then go out into some 
 secret place in the buslies, there to continue till 
 night : this lie said was necessary, as the enemy 
 were often plundering about his house, and if I con- 
 tinued in it, I should probably be discovered, 
 which would ruin him. A little boy was set as a 
 sentinel at the door, wdio was to give notice if the 
 enemy came near. I had not been in the house 
 half an hour, before a number of them came in, but 
 with no other design than to buy some rum and 
 milk, and to l)orrow a pot for cooking. 
 
 As soon as they were gone, the woman came into 
 the chamber to dress my wound. She washed it 
 with rum, applied dressings, and bound it up as 
 well as she could. She showed every mark of kind- 
 ness to me, but her husband, whose name was 
 
NARRATIVE. 31 
 
 Moulton, ill a day or two after I got to liis house, 
 was pressed by tlie enemy to bring stores from 
 Skeensborough*(ii) with his team, and I never saw 
 the good old man any more. His wife was in much 
 trouble, lest the enemy should find me in the house 
 and be so enraged as to kill all the family. She 
 permitted her little boy to guide me to the bushes, 
 where I might secrete myself: she gave me a 
 blanket to lie on. The boy went with me to my 
 lurking place, that I might be easily found, so as to 
 receive refreshment. When night came on, I was 
 called by the boy to the house again, and took my 
 old stand in the chamber ; the woman feared I 
 should receive injury by lodging out of doors. She 
 informed me that a man would lodge there that 
 night, who was brother-in-law to her husband ; and 
 who had actually taken up arms against his 
 country. I told her I apprehended danger from 
 tarrying in the house ; she said there would not be 
 any ; I then lay snug in my straw. 
 
 In a short time the tory came lor some drink ; 
 the indiscreet woman tokl him she had an American 
 
 * In Wasliington County, in the State of New York. It is now known 
 as White Ha\\.—Ed. 
 
32 NARRATIVE. 
 
 in the chamber, avIio had been taken prisoner b)' 
 the British and had escaped. He asked lier what 
 kind of a man I was. She told him I was a young- 
 fellow and wanted mneli to get liome, and begged 
 that I might not be taken back to the enemy or 
 betrayed. His answer was very rough, and I began 
 to think I was gone for it. I expected to be forced 
 back ; but the woman interceding so hard for me, 
 softened the ferocity of my tory enemy. Knowing 
 I was discovered, I crawled from my hiding place, 
 and began a conversation with the man. He asked 
 me if I belonged to the rebel service ? I told him 1 
 belonged to the Continental service. " What is that," 
 says he, " but the rebel service ?" He addressed 
 me in very insolent language, and said he was 
 very sorry to have me leave the king's troops in the 
 manner I had done, and he would have me to 
 know I was in his hands. I was patient and mild 
 in my situation, telling him I was at his disposal. 
 My good mistress often put in a word on my 
 behalf. 
 
 After some time spent in tliis way, the man 
 asked me if he should chance to be taken, and in 
 my power as I was in his, whether I should let him 
 
NARRATIVE. 33 
 
 escape? I told liim I slionkl. "Then," says he, 
 " if you will promise this, I will not detain you ; 
 also, that if you are retaken before you reach home, 
 you will not inform, that you have seen me, or have 
 been at my brother's." I gave him my ])romise. 
 His advice to me was immediately to set out, for 
 if I should stay long I inight be picked up by some 
 person. " And,'' says he, " I advise you to travel 
 in the night, and hide in the day, for many volun- 
 teers are reconnoitering up and down the country." 
 I concluded to travel ; but mj feeling landlady 
 thought it best to stay a few days longer. My 
 friend tory said it was best for me to travel as soon 
 as possible. "If yon are determined to go to-night," 
 said the woman, " I will dress your wound and give 
 you food for your journey." I told her I would go 
 as soon as possible. She then dressed my wound 
 for the last time, and lilled my pockets with good 
 provision. After thanking her for her kindness, it 
 being all the compensation I could make, and I 
 believe all that she desired, I left her. 
 
 But before I proceed on my journey, I must tell 
 you, that my dog, who had accompanied me 
 through many dangers, I was obliged to drive from 
 
34 NAEKATIVE. 
 
 me ; when in the chamber, he wonki commonly lay 
 at the foot of the stairs. Mrs. Moulton often told 
 me, she was afraid he would betray me, for as the 
 enemy were often in, should they see the dog, 
 might suspect that somebody was in the chamber. 
 I told her, with much regret, to drive him away ; 
 she with her little l)oy tried all in their power to 
 get rid of him, but in vain; the dog would stay 
 about the house ; at length she called me to drive 
 him away ; I came down, and after much difficulty, 
 effected it. 
 
 But to return. After being told tlie course I 
 must take, I began my journey in the night, which 
 was dark and cloudy, through the woods. I had 
 not travelled more than two hours, before I got lost. 
 I concluded I had missed the road, and having 
 reached the end of one I was then in, began to 
 think of going back. My wound began to be very 
 painful, and I was so sore, I could scarcely go. 
 While I was seeking for the road again, there came 
 up a thunder shower, and rained fast. I crawled 
 into an old forsaken hovel, which was near, and lay 
 till the shower was over ; then went back half a 
 mile and found the road once more. The road 
 
NARRATIVE. 35 
 
 being newly opened through tlie woods was very 
 had, and it was with much difficulty I could get 
 along, often tumbling over roots and stones, and 
 sometimes up to my knees in mire. I once fell and 
 was obliged to lay several minutes, before I could 
 recover myself. 
 
 About 12 o'clock at night, as 1 was walking in 
 this wilderness, I was surprised l>y two large wild 
 animals, which lay close by the road, and started 
 up as soon as they saw me ; ran a few rods and 
 turned about towards me ; whether they were 
 bears or wolves, I could not tell ; I was, however, 
 exceedingly terrified, and would have given any 
 thing for my dog again. One of them followed me 
 for a long time ; sometimes would come close to 
 me, and at others, kept at a considerable distance. 
 At last he got discouraged and left me, and cer- 
 tainly I did not regret his absence. 
 
 At daylight, I came to open land, and discovered 
 a house belonging to Col. Mead, I was not a little 
 rejoiced to see his house, as I knew he would be a 
 friend to me; but my joy was of short continuance, 
 for as soon as I looked into the door, I saw marks 
 of the enemy ; every thing belonging to the house 
 
36 NARRATIVE. 
 
 being carried olt" or destroyed. 1 thouglit it not 
 prudent to go into the house lest some of the enemy 
 niiglit be within ; so I passed on as fast as possible ; 
 it now began to grow light ; and wdiat to do with 
 myself I could not tell. My friends had advised 
 me to lay concealed in the day time and travel in 
 the night. 
 
 When I viewed the depredations the enemy had 
 made on the inhabitants, and many uf whom had 
 fled ; not knowing how far I must travel to find 
 friends, and my wound being very troublesome, I 
 reflected long, whether to tari-y and be made 
 prisoner, or push forward through a dreary wilder- 
 ness ; death seemed to threaten me on all sides: 
 however, I collected resolution suflicient to make to 
 the east ; I conceived myself exj)osed by my uniform 
 and bloody clothes ; to prevent a discovery by any 
 who should be an enemy, I took oft' my shirt and 
 put it over my coat, by which my uniform was 
 covered ; in this line I marched ; it being the 
 orders of the British for all tories, who came to join 
 them, to appear in tliis dress, I considered myself 
 protected. 
 
 I travelled till the middle of the day, before 
 
NARRATIVE. 3Y 
 
 I saw any person ; I tlien met a man driving 
 cattle, as I supposed, to the enemy. He examined 
 me closely, and enquired if I -was furnished with a 
 pass. I gave him plausible answers to all his 
 questions, and so far satisfied him as to proceed 
 unmolested. I enquired of him, if he knew one 
 Joshua Priest : he told me he did, and very readily 
 directed me to the place where he lived. Leaving 
 this man, I had not travelled far, before I met a 
 number more, armed ; being within about fifty rods 
 of them, I thought to hide myself, but found I could 
 not ; I then made towards them, without any appa- 
 rent fear. Coming up to them, I expected a strict 
 examination ; but they only asked me how far it 
 was to such a town : I informed them as well as I 
 could, and pushed on my way. 
 
 Being within a mile and a half of said Priest's, 
 I saw two men making towards me ; they came to 
 a fence and stopped ; I heard them say, " Let's 
 examine this fellow, and know what his business 
 is." One of them asked me where I was going. I 
 told him to Joshua Priest's ; he asked me my 
 business there : I answered him upon no bad 
 errand : He says you are a spy ; I told him I was 
 
38 NARRATIVE. 
 
 no spy. I did not like the fellow's looks, therefore 
 dropped tlie conversation witli liini, believing he 
 was one of the enemy. I resolved not to converse 
 witli any one, till I had arrived at Priest's, unless 
 compelled to. Being almost overcome with fatigue, 
 I wished for rest ; however, these men seemed 
 determined to stop me or do me some mischief, for 
 when I walked on, they followed me upon the run, 
 and in great rage told me, I should go no further, 
 until I had made known to them who and what I 
 was ; saying, they had asked me a civil question, 
 and they required a civil answer. I told them 
 if they would go to Priest's, I would tell them all 
 the trnth and satisfy them entirely ; repeating to 
 them I was no spy. They said they did not mean 
 to leave me till they were satisfied respecting me. 
 I then, in short, told them what I had before in 
 the wdiole, and added, that I was well acquainted 
 with Priest, and intended to tarry with him some 
 time. 
 
 We all arrived at Priest's, who at first did not 
 recollect me. After some pause, he told me he was 
 surprised to see me, as my father (13) had informed 
 him I was slain at Hubbardston. I told him, I was 
 
NARRATIVE. 39 
 
 yet alive : but liad received a bad wound. His 
 family soon dressed my wound and made me com- 
 fortable. 
 
 I then in the presence and hearing of my tory 
 followers, told Priest the story of my captivity 
 and escape : also repeated the insolent language 
 used by the tories towards our people, when prison- 
 ers with the enemy, finding Priest my friend, I 
 said many severe things against the tories, and fixed 
 my countenance sternly on those fellows, who had 
 pretended to lord it over me and stop me on the 
 way. They bore all without saying a word, but 
 looked as surly as hulls. 
 
 I soon found these tory. gentry had premeditated 
 carrying me back, and were seeking help to prose- 
 cute their design. My friend Priest loaded his 
 gun, and said he would give them a grist, if they 
 dared come after me : but failing of getting any 
 persons to join them, I was not molested. 
 
 I could often hear my tory followers' threatenings 
 against me, to take me back, saying, I should be 
 able to fight again, and do injury to the enemy. I 
 feared these tories would do hurt, but my fears 
 were quieted by finding the neighbors were my 
 
40 NARRATIVE. 
 
 friends, and would afford me their protection. But 
 I will write one more tory plan. 
 
 After being at Priest's about ten days, there 
 came, one morning, a number of persons to see me, 
 and appeared very friendly and much concerned, 
 lest I should be taken by the enemy. They 
 informed me a man Jiad arrived from Burgoyne's 
 army, and a party of Indians was to be sent forward 
 -to guard the town where I was, and protect the 
 tories and their property ; our people coming twice 
 while I was at Priest's to take toiy property. 
 These people told me an honest stor}^, and advised 
 me to travel immediately. Being desirous to get 
 home, I told my friend Priest I would not stay any 
 longer. He Bays, '' Don't be scared, I apprehend 
 no danger from the Indians, tarry yet awhile, for 
 your wound is not healed ; you are not able to 
 travel through the woods : but do as you think 
 best." These men cried out, "• Escape, escape, for 
 your life : Indians will be upon you before to-mor- 
 row night." 
 
 Having resolved to go on, my friends furnished 
 me with provision sufficient for my journey. With- 
 out doubts or fears. I went on my way, and after 
 
NARRATIVE. 41 
 
 travelHni^ all day I arrived at a place called 
 Ludlow. (14) From this town the people all lied 
 and left their habitations. Great was my disaj)- 
 pointment ! I spent the night in a melancholy 
 manner : having neither fire nor bed to comfort my 
 shivering and impaired body. 
 
 About day, I set out from the dreary house, 
 which had sheltered me in the night. By travel- 
 ling, I found I had taken cold, and my wound was 
 very painful. Desponding, I thought it best to go 
 back about seven miles to some inhabitants, rather 
 than to proceed homeward. Just before night I 
 arrived at the j)lace of the inhabitants, seven miles 
 back, who received me kindly, and took special care 
 of my wound. 
 
 Just before sunset of the tliird day, after my 
 departure, I came to my old friend Priest's agaiu, 
 who appeared very glad to see me. Now it was 
 not any friendship in my tory visitors, who advised 
 me to escajDC, but for fear I should betray them, 
 their rej)orts afterwards proving a lie. 
 
 At my old friend's, I remained six weeks: in the 
 mean time my wound was almost healed. I was 
 hospitably entertained by him. 
 
42 NARRATIVE. 
 
 Having heard that one Mr. Atwell, belonging to 
 New-Marll:)orongh,(i5) was in the neighborhood with 
 a team to move a family, I agreed with him for a 
 liorse to ride. After a jonrney of a few days, I 
 safely arrived at New-Ipswich, (ir,) and once more 
 participated the pleasure of seeing and enjoying 
 my friends, and no enemy to make me afraid. 
 
 Not long afterwards, an officer from the army 
 hearing of my return ordered me to be arrested and 
 retnrned to the main body of the American army, 
 although my wound was scarcely liealed. In a few 
 weeks, I joined my corps, then stationed in Pennsyl- 
 vania; having yet two years to serve my country in 
 the tented field. 
 
 We afterwards w^ent on an expedition against the 
 Indians, to the Genesee Country, a long and 
 tedious march, commanded by Gen. Sullivan, (n) 
 where we drove the savages before us, burnt their 
 huts, destroyed their corn.(iK) Tiie tirst Indian set- 
 tlement we came to was called Tiauger, (lo) where 
 they lay in ambush, in a thick wood, on a hill, 
 where they fired on our men and killed seven ; after 
 that we were ordered to march in the following 
 order : the army was divided into four columns, 
 
NARRATIVE. 43 
 
 and the head of each cohimn had a horn or trum- 
 pet, and each of these divisions marched as far 
 apart as they could hear each other sound : we 
 marched in this hne all the way afterward, if we 
 had not they undoubtedly would have waylaid and 
 killed us all. There were two men that left their 
 place and went out from the main body and were 
 taken by the Indians, and tortured to death in the 
 most cruel manner. (20) 
 
 Our provision was like to fail : we had to go on 
 half allowance a long time, or we should have 
 starved. Finding few enemies to contend with in 
 that quarter, as they were not disposed to meet us 
 in the open field, we received the gladly obeyed 
 orders to return to Kew-England, where we remained 
 the ensuing autumn. Nothing more of importance, 
 to me or the reader, occurred, until the three long 
 years rolled away, except when in Pennsylvania, I 
 had the honor of being acquainted with Gen. Wash- 
 ington (21) and Gen. Lafayette,(22) and then I received 
 my discharge.* 
 
 And now, kind reader, wishing that you may 
 
 * He received his discharge March 20, 1780. — Ed. 
 
u 
 
 NAEKATIVE. 
 
 forever remain ignorant of the real sufferings of the 
 veteran soldier, from hunger and cold, from sick- 
 ness and captivity, I bid you a cordial adieu. 
 
 EBENEZER FLETCHER. („) 
 New- Ipswich, Jan., 1813. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 (i) Capt. James Carr was a resident of Somersworth, 
 Strafford Co., N. H. He was Captain of the third company 
 in the second of three battalions raised in New Hampshire in 
 1776. He eventually attained the rank of Major, and died on 
 the eleventh day of March, 1829. 
 
 (j) The following were the officers of the company : 
 
 James Carr of Somersworth. Captain. 
 
 Samuel Cherry '' luOniioxid&Yvy .. First- Lieutenant. 
 
 Peletiah Whittemore. . " l^'E.^\'(iS'w\ch. .Second -Lieutenant. 
 George Frost " Greenland Ensign. 
 
 (s) Col. Nathan Hale was horn in Hanipstead, Rocking- 
 liam Co., N. H., on the 23d day of September, 1743. His 
 mother's maiden name was Elizabeth Wheeler. His father, 
 Moses Hale, was born in Rowley, Mass., in 1703, and died in 
 Rindge, K H., on the 19th day of June, 1762. 
 
46 NOTES. 
 
 Col. Hale was by occupation a merchant. He came to 
 Rindge in company with his brothers, Moses and Enoch, 
 shortly after the first settlement of the place. On the 28th day 
 of January, 1766, he was married to Abigail Grout, who was 
 born in Lunenburgh, Mass., March 23d, 1745. This lady was 
 the daughter of John Grout, who was born in Sudbury, Mass., 
 October 14, 1704. Mr. Grout was originally a farmer, but, 
 during the latter years of his life, followed the profession of 
 the law. He resided in Lunenburgh a while ; thence moved 
 to Rindge, and subsequently to Jaftrey, N. H., where he died. 
 
 Col. Hale commanded the second of three battalions which 
 were raised in New Hampshire in 1776, to serve for the period 
 of three years. He was engaged in the battle of Hubbardton, 
 and was taken prisoner there by the British. Immediately 
 after the battle, reports, censuring his conduct in that engage- 
 ment, were circulated, but whether they were well founded, 
 or originated, as many have supposed, in the envy of some of 
 his inferior officers, it is difficult now to decide. It is known 
 that he and his men were at the time of the engagement in a 
 feeble state of health, and were consequently unfit for military 
 service. The historians of the day, moreover, attach no 
 blame to his conduct; and his character, in other respects, 
 appears to have been irreproachable. Col. Hale, it is said, on 
 hearing of the reports, wrote to General Washington, request-- 
 ing that he might be exchanged, and thus have the oppor- 
 tunity of vindicating his character by a court-martial, but 
 before this could be effected, he died, while a prisoner on 
 
NOTES. 47 
 
 Long Island, in the month of September, IVSO, he being tlien 
 thirty-seven years of age. He left, surviving him, his widow, 
 four sons and two daugliters, all of whom are now deceased. 
 
 Mrs. Hale was a woman of great resolution, and managed 
 her affairs with remarkable success. She lived in Rindge 
 for many years, and died in Chelsea, Vt., on the 14th day of 
 September, 1838, in the ninety-fourth year of her age. 
 
 The following are the names of Col. Hale's children, and the 
 times of their birtli and death : 
 
 1. Charlotte (Mrs. Lowe).. Born Dec. 30, 1766. .Died May 5, 1841. 
 
 2. Thomas " Sept. 6, 1769. . " Dec. 1, 1797. 
 
 S.Nathan " July 1,1771.. " Jan. 9,1849. 
 
 4. A SON. " July 1773.. " Same day. 
 
 5. Elipualet " May 16, 1775.. " Sept. 26, 1852. 
 
 6. Polly " April 26, 1778. . " Sept. 26,1795. 
 
 7. Harry " Feb. 10, 1780. . '• June 2, 1861. 
 
 (4) The following were the officers of the Second Battalion : 
 
 Nathan Hale of Rindge Colonel. 
 
 WiNBOKN Adams " Durham Lieutenant- Col. 
 
 Benjamin Titcomb " Dover Major. 
 
 William Elliot " Exeter Adjutant. 
 
 Jerry Fogg " Kensington Paymaster. 
 
 Richard Brown " Unity Quarter-Master. 
 
 William Parker, Jr. ... " Exeter Surgeon. 
 
 Peletiah Warren " Berwick Surgeon''s Mate. 
 
 Augustus Hibbard " Claremont Chaplain. 
 
 (s) Tioonderoga — a post-town of Essex County, New-York, 
 on the west side of the south end of Lake Champlain, and at 
 
48 NOTES. 
 
 the north end of Lake George, twelve miles south of Crown 
 Point, and ninety-five miles north of Albany. In 1860 the 
 population of the town was 2,270. 
 
 Ticonderoga Fort, so famous in American history, was 
 erected on an eminence on the north side of a peninsula 
 of about five hundred acres, elevated upwards of one hundred 
 feet above Lake Champlain, at the mouth of Lake George's 
 outlet. Considerable remains of the fortifications are still to 
 be seen. The stone walls of the fort, which are still standing, 
 are in some places thirty feet high. The fort was built by the 
 French in 1756, and was called by them " Carillon^'''' a word 
 signifying a jingling racket or clatter. By the Indians it was 
 known by the Iroquois name " Checonderoga^'''' signifying 
 " sounding waters." It had all the advantages that art or 
 nature could give it, being defended on three sides by 
 water surrounded by rocks, and on half of the fourth by a 
 swamp, and where that fails, the French erected a breast 
 work nine feet high. The British and Colonial troops, 
 under General Abercrombie, were defeated here in the 
 year 1758, but the place was taken the year following 
 by General Amherst. Ticonderoga was the first fortress 
 attacked by the Americans in the Revolutionary war. It 
 was surprised by Cols. Ethan Allen and Benedict Arnold, 
 on the 10th day of May, 1775 ; was re-taken by Gene- 
 ral Burgoyne on the 6th day of July, 1777; and was 
 evacuated after his surrender, the garrison returning to 
 St. Johns. 
 
NOTES. 49 
 
 Mount Defiance lies about a mile south of the fort, and 
 Mount Independence is about half a mile distant, on the 
 opposite side of the lake, in Addison County, Vermont. 
 
 (e) Major-Ge;n^eeal Arthur St. Clair was born in Edin- 
 burgh, Scotland, in the year 1734. He came to America with 
 Admiral Boscawen in 1755. In 1759 and 1760 he served in 
 Canada as a Lieutenant, under Gen. Wolfe, and after the 
 peace of 1763, was appointed to the command of Fort 
 Ligonier, in Pennsylvania. Here he settled, and becoming a 
 citizen of Pennsylvania, was appointed to several offices of a 
 civil nature. When the Revolution commenced, he embraced 
 the cause of the Americans, and in January, 1776, was 
 appointed to command a battalion of Pennsylvania militia. 
 He was engaged in the expedition to Canada, and was the 
 second in command in the proposed attack on the British post 
 at Trois Rivieres. He was soon after ordered to join the 
 army in New Jersey, and was engaged in the battles of Tren- 
 ton and Princeton. On the ninth day of August, 1776, he 
 was appointed a Brigadier-General, and in the month of 
 February following, was made a Major-General. He was the 
 commanding officer at Ticonderoga when that post was 
 invested by the British, and having a garrison of but about 
 2,000 men, badly equipped, and very short of ammunition and 
 stores, he was compelled to evacuate it, which he did on the 
 6th day of July, 1777. Charges of cowardice, treachery and 
 incapacity were brought against him for this step, but a court 
 
50 NOTES. 
 
 of inquiry honorably acquitted him. In 1780 he was ordered 
 to Khode Island, but circumstances prevented him from going 
 thither. When the allied armies marched towards Virginia 
 in 1781, to attack Cornwallis, Gen. St. Clair was directed to 
 remain at Philadelphia with the recruits of the Pennsylvania 
 line for the protection of Congress. He was, however, soon 
 allowed to join the army, and reached Yorktown during the 
 siege. From Yorktown he was sent with a considerable 
 force to join Gen. Greene, which he did near Savannah, 
 Georgia, and at the conclusion of the war, he returned to his 
 former residence in Pennsylvania. In 1783 he was a member 
 of the Council of Censors of Pennsylvania, and the same year 
 was elected President of the Cincinnati Society of that State. 
 In 1786 he was elected a delegate to Congress, and in Feb- 
 ruary, 1787, was chosen President of that body. In 1788 he 
 was appointed Governor of the territory of the United States 
 north-west of the Ohio, which office he retained until Novem- 
 ber, 1802, when he was removed by Mr. .Jefferson in con- 
 sequence of the too free expression of his political opinions. 
 In 1791 he commanded an ai'my employed against the Miami 
 Indians, and was defeated on the 4th of November, with the 
 loss of between six hundred to seven hundred men. On this 
 occasion a portion of the citizens were loud in their censures 
 of his conduct ; but a committee of the House of Representa- 
 tives, appointed to examine into the cause of the failure 
 of the expedition, upon hearing his defense, honorably excul- 
 pated him from blame. In the following year he resigned his 
 
NOTES. 51 
 
 commission as Major-General, and in his old age, being 
 reduced to poverty, and embarrassed by debts, he applied to 
 Congress for relief, but his claims on the sympathy of his 
 country were listened to with inditference, and admitted with 
 reluctance. In the year 1817, after a great suspense, he 
 obtained a pension of sixty dollars a month, which he did not, 
 however, live long to enjoy. He died at Laurel Hill, near 
 Phil., on the 31st day of August, 1818, at the age of eighty- 
 four years. His remains were interred in the Presbyterian 
 church-yard in Greensburg, "Westmoreland Co., Pa., and in 1832 
 the Masonic fraternity placed a neat monument over his grave. 
 
 (t) " Although every possible exertion had been made by Gen. 
 St. Clair and his men, the state of the American works and 
 of the garrison was not such as to insure a long and vigorous 
 defence. The old French fort had been strengthened by 
 some additional works, several block-houses had been erected, 
 and some new batteries had been constructed on the side 
 towards Lake George. The Americans had also fortified a 
 high circular hill on the east side of the lake opposite to 
 Ticonderoga, to which they had given the name of Mount 
 Independence. These two posts were connected by a floating- 
 bridge twelve feet wide and one thousand feet long, which 
 was supported by twenty-two sunken piers of large timber. 
 This bridge was to have been defended by a boom strongly 
 fastened together by bolts and chains ; but this boom was not 
 completed when Gen. Burgoyne advanced against the works. 
 
52 NOTES. 
 
 " Notwithstaading the apparent, strength of the posts 
 occupied by the Americans, their works were all elfectually 
 overlooked and commanded by a neighboring eminence 
 called Sugar Loaf Hill, or Mount Defiance. This circum- 
 stance was well known to the American officers, and they 
 had a consultation for the express purpose of considering the 
 propriety of fortifying this mountain ; but it was declined, 
 because they believed the British would not think it prac- 
 ticable to plant cannon upon it, and because their works 
 were already so extensive, that they could not be properly 
 manned, the whole garrison consisting of only 2,546 conti- 
 nental troops, and 900 militia; the latter very badly armed 
 and equipped. 
 
 " Gen. St. Clair was sensible that he could not sustain a 
 regular siege ; still he hoped that the confidence of Burgoyne 
 would induce him to attempt to carry the American works 
 by assault, against which he was resolved to defend himself 
 to the last extremity. But to the surprise and consternation 
 of the Americans, on the 5th of July, the enemy appeared 
 upon Mount Defiance, and immediately commenced the con- 
 struction of a battery. This battery, when completed, would 
 eflTectually command all the American works on both sides of 
 the lake, and the line of communication between them ; and, 
 as there was no prospect of being able to dislodge the enemy 
 from this post, a council of war was called, by which it was 
 unanimously agreed that a retreat should be attempted tluit 
 very night, as the only means of saving the army. 
 
NOTES. 53 
 
 " Accordingly, about two o'clock in the morning of the 6th 
 of July, Gen. St. Clair, with the garrison, left Ticonderoga, 
 and at about three o'clock the troops on Mount Independence 
 were put in motion. The baggage, provisions and stores 
 were, as far as practicable, embarked on board 200 batteaux, 
 and despatched, under convoy of five armed gallies, to 
 Skenesborough, while the main body of the army proceeded 
 by land on the route through Hubbardton and Castleton. . 
 These affairs were conducted with secrecy and silence, and 
 unobserved by the enemy, till a French officer, imprudently 
 and contrary to orders, set fire to his house. The flames 
 immediately illuminated the whole of Mount Independence, 
 and revealed to the enemy at once the movements and 
 designs of the Americans. It at the same time impressed the 
 Americans with such an idea of discovery and danger, as to 
 throw them into the utmost disorder and confusion. 
 
 " About four o'clock, the rear-guard of the Americans left 
 Mount Independence, and were brought ofi" by Col. Francis in 
 good order; and the regiments which had preceded him, 
 were soon recovered from their confusion. When the troops 
 arrived at Hubbardton, they were halted for nearly two 
 hours. Here the rear-guard was put under the command of 
 Col. Seth "Warner, with orders to follow the army, as soon as 
 those, who had been left behind, came up, and to halt about a 
 mile and a half in the rear of the main body. St. Clair then 
 proceeded to Castleton, about six miles further, leaving 
 Warner, with the rear-guard and stragglers, at Hubbardton." 
 
54 NOTES. 
 
 " The retreat from Ticonderoga was very disastrous to the 
 Americans. Their cannon, amounting to 128 pieces, — their 
 shipping and batteaux, and their provisions, stores and maga- 
 zines, fell into the hands of the enemy. By this event, Bur- 
 goyne obtained no less than 1,748 barrels of flour, and more 
 than TO tons of salt provisions ; and, in addition to these, a 
 large drove of cattle, which had arrived in the American 
 camp a few days previous to their retreat, fell into his 
 
 hands." 
 
 Thompson' s Vermont, Part 2, pp. 41-43. 
 See also 
 
 WUliams' Hist. Vermont, Vol. 2. pp. 101-109. 
 
 (s) " The retreat of the Americans from Ticonderoga was 
 no sooner perceived by the British than an eager pursuit was 
 begun by General Fraser with the light troops, who was soon 
 followed by General Kiedesel with the greater part of the 
 Brunswick regiments. Fraser continued the pursuit during 
 the day, and having learned that the rear of the American 
 army was not far off, ordered his men to lie that night upon 
 their arms. Early on the morning of the 7th he renewed the 
 pursuit, and about 7 o'clock, commenced an attack upon the 
 Americans under "Warner. Warner's force consisted of his 
 own regiment, and the regiments of Cols. Francis and Hale. 
 Hale, fearful of the result, retired with his regiment, leaving 
 Warner and Francis, with only seven or eight hundred men, 
 to dispute the progress of the enemy. 
 
 " The conflict was fierce and bloody. Francis fell at the 
 head of his regiment, fighting with great resolution and 
 
NOTES. 55 
 
 bravery. Warner, well supported by his officers and men, 
 charged the enemy with such impetuosity that they were 
 thrown into disorder, and at first gave way. They, however, 
 soon recovered, formed anew, and advanced upon the Ameri- 
 cans, who, in their turn, fell back. At this critical moment, a 
 re-enforcement under Gen. Eiedesel arrived, which was 
 immediately led into action, and the fortune of the day was 
 soon decided. The Americans, overpowered by numbers, 
 and exhausted by fatigue, fled from the field in every 
 direction. 
 
 " The loss of the Americans in this encounter was very 
 considerable. Hale was overtaken by a party of the British, 
 and surrendered himself, and a number of his men, prisoners 
 of war. The whole American loss in killed, wounded and 
 prisoners, was 324, of whom about 30 were killed. The loss 
 of the enemy in killed and wounded, was 183. 
 
 " Gen. St. Clair, with the main body of the American 
 army, was at Castleton, only six miles distant, during this 
 engagement, but sent no assistance to Warner. After the 
 battle, Warner, with his usual perseverance and intrepidity, 
 collected his scattered troops and conducted them safely to 
 Fort Edward, to which place St. Clair had retired with the 
 army. While Gens. Fraser and Riedesel were pursuing the 
 Americans by land, General Burgoyne himself conducted the 
 pursuit by water. The boom and bridge between Ticon- 
 deroga and Mount Independence not being completed, were 
 soon cut through, and by nine o'clock in the morning of the 
 
56 NOTES. 
 
 6th the Britisli frigates and guu-boats had passed the works. 
 Several reghueuts were immediately embarked on board the 
 boats, and the chase commenced. By three in the afternoon 
 the foremost boats overtook and attacked the American gallies 
 near Skenesborough, (now Whitehall,) and upon the approach 
 of the frigates, the Americans abandoned their gallies, blew 
 up three of them, and escaped to the shore. The other two 
 fell into the hands of the British. 
 
 " As the American force was not sufficient to make an 
 effectual stand at Skenesborough, they set fire to the works, 
 mills and batteaux, and retreated up Wood Creek to Fort 
 Ann. Being pursued by the ninth British regiment under 
 Colonel Hill, the Americans turned upon him and gave him 
 battle with siich a spirit as to cause him to retire to the top 
 of a hill, where he would have been soon overpowered, had 
 not a re-enforcement come at that critical moment to his 
 assistance. The Americans, upon this, relinquished the 
 attack, and having set fire to Fort Ann, retreated to Fort 
 Edward and joined the main army under Schuyler." 
 
 " After St. Clair had joined Gen. Schuyler at Fort Edward, 
 and all the scattered troops had come in, the whole American 
 force at that place did not exceed 4,400 men. Sensible that, 
 with this force, it would be impossible to make an effectual 
 stand, it became the chief object of the American generals to 
 impede as much as possible the progress of the enemy by cutting 
 down trees, blocking up the roads, and destroying the bridges. 
 
NOTES. 57 
 
 " The works at Fort Edward being in no condition to 
 afford protection to the American army, Gen. Schuyler 
 abandoned them on the 22d of July, and retired with his 
 whole force to Moses Creek, a position on the Hudson, about 
 four miles below Fort Edward. At this place the hills 
 approach very near the river on both sides, and this was 
 selected as a favorable position to make a stand and dispute 
 the progress of the enemy. But the army was found to be 
 so much reduced by defeat and desertion, and the dissatisfac- 
 tion to the American cause was found to be so general in thig 
 section of the country, that it was judged best to retire to 
 Saratoga, and subsequently to Stillwater, at which place the 
 array arrived on the 1st day of August." 
 
 Thompson's Vermont, Part 2, pp. 42, 43. 
 See also 
 
 Williams' Hist. Vermont, Vol. 2, pp. 105-107. 
 Gordon's American War, Vol. 2, pp. 483, 484. 
 Allen's American Rev., Vol. 2, pp. 31-33. 
 Thacher's Journal, Ed. o/1827, pp. 83-86. 
 Stone's Hist, of Beverly, pp. 73-79. 
 Trial of Gen. St. Clair. 
 
 The following account we take from one of the newspapers of the day : 
 "■July 17. — By an express from the northward we learn 
 that the American forces, under the command of General 
 St. Clair, abandoned Fort Ticonderoga and the adjoining lines, 
 on the morning of the 6th instant, and are now encamped in 
 the vicinity of Moses Creek. A letter from an officer at that 
 place, written this day, gives the following account of the 
 retreat and its consequences : — The retreat from Ticonderoga 
 
58 NOTES. 
 
 will be a matter of speculation in the country, and the 
 accounts different and confused, a true state of facts will 
 therefore be very satisfactory without doubt. 
 
 " "We were deceived with respect to the strength of the 
 enemy, and our own reinforcements. The enemy have prac- 
 tised a piece of finesse which has too well answered their pur- 
 pose ; they have so conducted that all hands in the United 
 States believed they had drawn their force from Canada to 
 the southward, and designed only to garrison their posts in the 
 northern world; the consequence of this belief has been the 
 ordering eight regiments, destined for Ticonderoga and its 
 environs, to Peekskill, and little attention has been paid to 
 this department. The enemy's condition in Canada has been 
 represented as miserable, confused, scattered and sickly ; this 
 has been the general opinion in camp and country, and our 
 situation has been thought perfectly safe. 
 
 " Our force consisted of about four thousand, including the 
 corps of artillery, and artificers who were not armed, a con- 
 siderable part of which were militia ; we could bring about 
 three thousand fit for duty into the field. General Burgoyne 
 came against us with about eight thousand healthy, spirited 
 troops, with a lake force consisting of three fifty-gun ships, 
 a thunder mounting eighteen brass twenty-four pounders, two 
 thirteen-inch mortars, a number of howitz, several sloops, 
 gun-boats, &c., &c. 
 
 " Their strength being so very superior to ours, obliged us 
 to tamely sit still and see them erect batteries all around us. 
 
NOTES. 59 
 
 without hazarding a sally. Two hatteries were erected in 
 front of our lines, on higher ground than ours ; within half a 
 mile on our left they had taken post on a very high hill over- 
 looking all our works ; our right would have been commanded 
 by their shipping and the batteries they had erected on the 
 other side of the lake. Our lines at Ticonderoga would have 
 been of no service, and we must have inevitably abandoned 
 them in a few days after their batteries opened, which would 
 have been the next morning ; we then should have been 
 necessitated to retire to Fort Independence, the consequence 
 of which, I conceive, would have been much worse than the 
 mode.adopted ; for the moment we had left Ticonderoga fort, 
 they could send their shipping by us, and prevent our commu- 
 nication with Skenesborough ; then the only avenue to and 
 from Fort Independence would have been by a narrow neck 
 of land leading from the mount to the Grants. To this neck 
 they had almost cut a road; a day more would have com- 
 pleted it. A few troops stationed at Ticonderoga, would, 
 have prevented our communication with Lake George, as our 
 own works would have been against us. Their shipping 
 would have destroyed our connection with Skenesborough, 
 and their main body might have been placed on this neck of 
 land, which, by a few works, might have prevented all 
 supplies and reinforcements ; we might have stayed at the 
 mount as long as our provisions would have supported us ; we 
 had flour for thirty days, and meat sufficient only for a week. 
 Under these circumstances General St. Clair, on the sixth 
 
60 NOTES. 
 
 instant, called a council of war, and an evacuation was unani- 
 mously agreed upon as the only means of saving the army 
 from captivity. 
 
 " It was necessary also that our retreat should be pre- 
 cipitate, as the communication was almost cut off, and they 
 would soon be apprised of our designs. It was therefore 
 determined to send the baggage and sick in boats to Skenes- 
 borough, and for the army to march by land from the mount 
 to that place, being forty miles. At the dawn of day we left 
 Fort Independence, and I cannot say the march was conducted 
 with the greatest regularity ; the front, which was the main 
 body, marched thirty miles to a place called Castleton, about 
 twelve miles from Skenesborough ; the militia halted three 
 miles in the rear of the front, and the rear guard, commanded 
 by Colonel Francis, being joined by Colonels Warner and 
 Hale, halted at Hubbardton, about a mile and a half in the 
 rear of the militia. As the march was severe, the feeble of 
 the army had fallen in the rear, and tarried at Hubbardton 
 with the rear-guard. This body in rear might consist of 
 near a thousand men. Before I proceed further, it may be 
 necessary to give you the enemy's dispositions after they 
 were advised of our retreat : A large body, at least two 
 thousand, were detached to pursue our main body and harass 
 our rear; all the gun-boats and some of their shipping were 
 sent after our baggage, came up with it at Skenesborough 
 and took it. The ninth regiment, commanded by Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Hills, was ordered to run down South Bay, and land 
 
NOTES. 61 
 
 and march on a by-road to Fort Ann, and take that before our 
 troops could reach it ; the remainder of the army went on to 
 Skenesborough, except a garrison at Ticonderoga. 
 
 " The body of the enemy sent to harass our rear, came up 
 with it the next morning at Hubbardton, which was then 
 commanded by Colonel Warner; by the exertions of the 
 officers, our little army formed and gave them battle, which 
 continued about twenty-five minutes very severe, when our 
 party were overpowered with numbers and gave way. The 
 loss on both sides was considerable ; as our people took to the 
 woods and are daily coming in, it is impossible to ascertain 
 our loss. Colonel Francis, a worthy, brave officer, after sig- 
 nalizing himself, was shot through, and expired instantly; 
 Colonel Hale is missing. It is natural to ask, why was not 
 Colonel Warner reinforced ? Let me tell you ; orders were 
 
 sent to Colonel , who commanded the militia, to go to the 
 
 assistance of tiie rear-guard, but before they arrived, the 
 action was over and our people dispersed. Our main body 
 being now twelve miles from Skenesborough, and hearing 
 that a large body of the enemy were arrived tLere, and know- 
 ing that a large body were in our rear, the general imagined 
 if we pursued our route, that we must engage both in front 
 and rear under great disadvantage ; and to pursue his plan in 
 first retreating, which was to save the army, he thought pru- 
 dent to file off to the left, and before we reached Hudson 
 Eivei-, we marched one hundred and fifty miles; in this march 
 we picked up about thirty prisoners, part British, part Wal- 
 
62 NOTES. 
 
 deckers, and part Canadians. The party of our men who 
 were at Skenesborongh, retreated to Fort Ann; they were 
 twice attacked by the ninth regiment, and both times 
 repulsed them. They took a Captain Montgomery and a 
 doctor, and would probably have taken the whole regiment 
 had their ammunition held out. This is a candid statement 
 of facts, and for this conduct we are told our country calls us 
 either knaves or cowards ; I conceive they ought to be grate- 
 ful to our general, for had we stayed, we very certainly 
 should have been taken, and then no troops could have stood 
 between the enemy and the country. Our aftairs now are not 
 desperate in this quarter, as they would certainly have been ; 
 we have destroyed Fort George and its appendages, and shall 
 soon be able, I hope, to make head against our enemies, as we 
 are gathering strength and re-collecting ourselves." 
 
 Pennsylvania Evening Post, August 9th, 1777. 
 
 (g) Otter Creek, called by the French la Biviere aux 
 Loutres, the River of Otters, is the longest stream of water in 
 Vermont. It rises in Bennington Co., in the W. N. W. part 
 of the State, and flowing in a N". N. W. course through Rut- 
 land Co., falls into Lake Ohamplain in Addison Co. In its 
 course it receives about fifteen small tributary streams. Otter 
 Creek, above Middlebury, is a very still stream, and its waters 
 deep, aflfording very few mill privileges. From Middlebury to 
 Pittsford, a distance of twenty-five miles, it is navigable for 
 boats. At Middlebury, Weybridge, and Vergennes, there are 
 
NOTES. 63 
 
 falls in the creek which afford excellent sites for mills, and on 
 which are some of the finest manufacturing establishments in 
 the State. From Vergennes to the mouth, a distance of eight 
 miles, the creek is navigable for the largest vessels on the 
 lake. The whole length of the creek is about ninety miles, 
 and it waters about nine hundred square miles. 
 
 (lo) The Hessiaxs were soldiers hired by Great Britain of 
 some of the petty rulers of Germany, but from the circumstance 
 of the greater number being derived from the principality of 
 Hessen Cassel, they obtained the technical name by which 
 they are now known, and which in course of time has become 
 a term for mercenary troops generally. They were bought 
 for a stipulated sum paid on account of each man on enlist- 
 ment in the British army, while additional amounts became 
 payable in the event of certain contingencies, such as wounds 
 and death. The following table exhibits the quota obtained 
 from the respective rulers, as well as the amount received 
 by each : 
 
 Prince. Number of men furnished. 
 
 Bkunswick 5.723 
 
 Hessen Cassel 16,992 
 
 Hessen Hanau 2,422 
 
 Anspach 1,644 
 
 Waldeck 1,225 
 
 Anhalt 1,160 
 
 Number lost. 
 
 Amounts received. 
 
 3,015 
 
 £780,000 
 
 6,500 
 
 2,600,000 
 
 981 
 
 335,150 
 
 461 
 
 305,400 
 
 720 
 
 122,670 
 
 176 
 
 535,500 
 
 Total 29,166 11,853 4,678,620 
 
 Hanover received 448,000 
 
 Total amount received £ 5,126,620 
 
64 NOTES. 
 
 Many of the troops were temporary sojourners in the prin- 
 cipalities, and were secured by kidnapping, a mode which 
 was practiced to a great extent. As this device relieved the 
 citizens of Oassel from the evils of compulsory military service, 
 it met with little or no opposition from them, and every 
 traveler, therefore, had to depend chiefly on himself for 
 safety. The necessary consequence of such a mode of recruit- 
 ing was a great number of desertions, and to such an extent 
 did these prevail, tliat from the regiment of Anhalt alone, 
 one hundred and forty men deserted in one day, and on the 
 next, their example was followed by an officer and fifty men. 
 The Hessians arrived in America in 1776, and were first 
 employed against the Americans in the battle of Long Island. 
 They were subsequently engaged at Trenton, Princeton, 
 Saratoga, and elsewhere. They were generally fine, hearty - 
 looking men ; wore large knapsacks on their backs, and 
 spatter-dashes on their legs. A member of one of these 
 regiments, says Dunlap, {Rist. Amer. Theatre^ Am. Ed.., p. 45,) 
 " with his towering brass-fronted caj), mustacios coloured 
 with the same material that coloured his shoes, his hair 
 plastered with tallow and flour, and tightly drawn into a 
 long appendage reaching from the back of the head to his 
 waist, his blue uniform almost covered by the broad belts 
 sustaining his cartouch-box, his brass-hilted sword, and his 
 bayonet ; a yellow waistcoat with flaps, and yellow breeches 
 were met at the knee by black gaiters, and thus heavily 
 equipped, he stood an automaton, and I'eceived the command 
 
NOTES. 65 
 
 or cane of the officer who inspected him." The cavah-y were 
 mounted on gay ponies, much decorated with leather trap- 
 pings. .The accoutrements of themselves and their horses 
 were heavy in the extreme. At tlie termination of the war, 
 many of the Hessians settled down in America, and some of 
 them became good and enterprising farmers and citizens. 
 
 (n) HuBBARDTON, a township in Rutland Co., Vermont, 
 fifty miles N. of Bennington, and forty-six miles S. S. W. of 
 Montpelier. It derived its name from Thomas Hubbard, who 
 was a large proprietor. The settlement was commenced in 
 the spring of 1Y74 by Uriah Hickok and William Trowbridge, 
 who came with their families from Norfolk, Conn. Elizabeth, 
 daughter of Mrs. Hickok, was born August 1st, 1774, and died 
 in September, 177G. This was the first birth and the first 
 death in the town. The first barn was built in 1785, and the 
 first house in 1787. The first settlers of the town suffered 
 very severely from the Indians and tories. There were but 
 nine families in the town when the American army, under 
 Gen. St. Clair, evacuated Ticonderoga, July 6, 1777. In 1810 
 the population was 642, and in 1860 it numbered 606. 
 
 (12) White Hall, formerly called Skenesborough, a post- 
 village in Washington Co., N". Y., was organized in 1788. It 
 is beautifully situated in White Hall township, at the head of 
 the southern extremity of Lake Champlain, and on the Sara- 
 toga and Washington Railroad, seventy-seven miles N. by 
 
66 NOTES. 
 
 E. of Alban}'. The Ohamplain canal terminates here, con- 
 necting the village with Troy. " The Indian name of the 
 town was ^ Kah-cho-qvah-na,'' the place whei'e dip-fish." It 
 was formerly called Skenesborough from Maj. Philip Skene, 
 a royalist who resided here previous to the Revolution. The 
 pass at this place was seized by a detacliment of volunteers 
 from Connecticut in May, 1775. Major Skene and his family, 
 with a number of soldiei's, and several small pieces of cannon, 
 were taken. When Ticoaderoga was abandoned on the 
 approach of Gen. Burgoyne, the public stores were embarked 
 on board of two hundred batteaux, and sent up the lake to 
 Skenesborough, under a convoy of five galleys. They were 
 pursued by a British brigade of gun-boats, and overtaken at 
 Skenesborough. Two of the galleys were taken, and the 
 other three blown up. The Americans being unable to make 
 an eflicient stand, set fire to the works, fort, mills, batteaux, 
 and escaped as they could to Fort Ann. Skenesborough was 
 occupied by Burgoyne as his head-quarters for a considerable 
 time, while his troops were clearing a road to Fort Edward. 
 On the heights, overlooking the harbor, are the remains of a 
 battery and block house. The town carries on an extensive 
 trade with Canada. In 1860 the population of the township 
 was 4,862; of the village, 4,000. 
 
 (is) John Fletcher, the father of our author, was born in 
 Concord, Mass., and came to New Ipswich in 1758. He was 
 a cooper by trade. He was killed in New Ipswich in 1763, 
 
NOTES. 67 
 
 by the foiling of a tree. The family were led to the spot 
 through the strange conduct of their cat. The maiden name 
 of John Fletcher's wife was Elizabeth Foster. She was the 
 daughter of Abijah Foster, a farmer by occupation, and one 
 of the first settlers of New Ipswich. This lady was the first 
 female born in the place. She was born in the year 1741, 
 was married to John Fletcher in 1759, and died in the 
 year 1800. 
 
 (14) Ludlow, a post village and township in Windsor Co., 
 Vt., on a tributary of the Connecticut river, and on the Eut- 
 land and Burlington Railroad, about sixty-one mil6s S. of 
 Montpelier. In 1784-5, Josiah and Jesse Fletcher, Simeon 
 Reed, and James Whitney, all from Massachusetts, moved to 
 within the limits of the town, and began their clearings upon 
 the alluvial flats bordering upon Black River. Ludlow has 
 churches of three denominations, and considerable manufac- 
 tories of cassimeres, machinery and combs. The population 
 in 1860 was 1,568. 
 
 (15) New MAEi.BOROUGn, a post township in Berkshire Co., 
 Mass., about 130 miles W. by S. of Boston. The first im- 
 provements in the town were made in 1739 by Benjamin 
 Wheeler, who came from Marlborough. During the severe 
 winter of 1739-40, he remained the only white inhabitant 
 in the town. The Indians, though in most respects friendly, 
 forbade him the use of his gun, lest he should kill the 
 
68 NOTES. 
 
 deer, and thus withheld from him part of the means of 
 his support. His nearest white neighbors were in Sheffield, 
 ten miles distant. Some of these people came on snow- 
 shoes to see him. In the town is a rock, judged to weigh 
 thirty or forty tons, so equally balanced on another rock, 
 that a man can move it with his finger. The population 
 of the township in 1860 was 1,782. 
 
 (le) Kew-Ipswich, a post-town in Hillsborough Co., N. H., 
 on the west side of Souhegan river, upon the southern line of 
 the State. It is distant fifty miles S. W. from Concord, and 
 eighteen miles S. W. from Amherst. It was settled before 
 1749, by Reuben Kidder and others, and was incorporated 
 Sept. 9th, 1762. The principal village is in the centre of the 
 town, in a pleasant and fertile valley. Manj of the dwelling- 
 houses are of brick, and are elegant in appearance. The 
 village contains a bank, a number of factories, and several 
 cotton mills, the first of which was put in operation in 1803. 
 The New-Ipswich Academy was incorporated June 18, 1789, 
 has a fund of £1,000, and generally about forty or fifty stu- 
 dents. New-Ipswich has produced many men, who have 
 become eminent as patriots, merchants, and men of science. 
 There were sixty-five men from this town in the battle of 
 Bunker Hill. The population of the town in 1860 was 1,701. 
 
 • (n) Majoe-Gen. John Sullivan was of Irish descent, and 
 was born in Berwick, in the State of Maine, on the I7th day 
 
NOTES. 69 
 
 of February, 1740. In his youth he worked upon a farm, but 
 after arriving at maturity he studied law and established him- 
 self in practice in Durham, New Hampshire. His energy and 
 industry soon rendered him a prominent man, and he was 
 chosen a delegate to the first Congress. After his retirement 
 from that body, he, with John Langdon, the Speaker of the 
 Provincial Congress of New Hampshire, commanded a small 
 force that seized Fort William and Mary, at Portsmouth, and 
 carried off the cannon and powder. The next year he was 
 again chosen a delegate to Congress, but being appointed by 
 that body one of the eight brigadier-generals, in the new 
 army, he soon proceeded to head-quarters at Cambridge. In 
 the following year he was made a Major-General, and super- 
 seded Arnold in the command of the American army in 
 Canada, but was soon driven out of that province. When 
 Gen. Greene became ill on Long Island, Sullivan took com- 
 mand of his division, and in the battle of Brooklyn he was 
 taken prisoner by the enemy. He was subsequently ex- 
 changed, and took command of Gen. Lee's division in New 
 Jersey after the capture of that officer. In the autumn of 
 1777 he was engaged in the battles of Brandywine and Ger- 
 mantown, and in the winter following took command of the 
 troops on Rhode Island. In August, 1778, he besieged New- 
 port, then in the hands of the British, with the fullest confi- 
 dence of success, but being abandoned by the French fleet 
 under D'Estaing, who sailed to Boston, he was obliged to 
 raise the siege. On the 29th an action took place with the 
 
70 NOTES. 
 
 pursuing enemy, who were repulsed with loss. On the fol- 
 lowing day, with much military skill, he passed over to the 
 continent without the loss of baggage or life, and without the 
 slightest suspicion on the part of the British of his move- 
 ments. In the year 1779 he commanded an expedition 
 against the Six Nations, and soon after his return, he 
 resigned his commission. He was afterwards a member of 
 Congress, and in 1786 became President of Xew Hampshire, 
 which office he held for three years. While in this position 
 he rendered important service in quelling the spirit of insur- 
 rection which exhibited itself at the time of the troubles in 
 Massachusetts. In 1789 he was appointed District Judge of 
 New Hampshire, a situation which he held at the time of his 
 death. Gen. Sullivan was a man of short stature, but well 
 formed and active. His complexion was dark, his nose 
 prominent, his eyes black and piercing, and his face altogether 
 agreeable. He was fond of display, but his deportment was 
 dignified, commanding respect. He died in Durham, N. H., 
 on the 23d day of January, 1795, in the 55th year of his age. 
 
 (is) The atrocities committed by the hostile Indians of the Six 
 Nations, at Wyoming, Pa., and at several settlements in New York, 
 determined Congress, in 1779, to send an army into the country 
 inhabited by the savages, to retort upon them their own system of 
 warfare. The force employed consisted of about five thousand men, 
 and the command of the same was given to Gen. John Sullivan. The 
 following is a particular account of the expedition : 
 
 " They were to make the attack by three different routes, 
 by the way of the Susquehanna, the Mohawk and the Ohio 
 
NOTES. Yl 
 
 rivers, while Washington, by a feint of entering Canada, 
 should induce the British Governor-General to keep his forces 
 at home. Tiiis plan was so far changed in its execution as to 
 divide the whole force into two parts only ; the main body 
 under Sullivan and the other under James Clinton, the 
 Governor's brother. Sullivan reached Wyoming, on the 
 Susquehanna, on the 21st July, having delayed his march, by 
 waiting the result of extravagant demands which he continued 
 to make for men, provisions, and equipments, and which 
 Congress were not disposed to grant. The number of his 
 troops, by the return of the 22d of July, amounted to no more 
 than 2,312, rank and file, for the service of which, the Quarter- 
 Master-General had supplied him with 1,400 horses. This 
 force was more than three times greater than any probable 
 number which the hostile Indians could bring against him, as 
 the whole number of their warriors did not exceed 550, and to 
 these were joined about 250 tories, the whole headed by John- 
 son, Butler and Brandt : yet Sullivan still demanded, and 
 waited for more men. On the 21st of August, he was joined 
 by General Clinton with 1,600 men, who had passed by the 
 way of the Mohawk, without meeting opposition. It seemed 
 to be the infatuated determination of General Sullivan to 
 do everything in this expedition, which could blast the 
 laurels he had hitherto won. He lived, during the march, 
 in every species of extravagance, was constantly complain- 
 ing to Congress that he was not half supplied, and daily 
 amused himself in unwarrantable remarks to his young 
 
72 NOTES. 
 
 officers respecting the imbecility of Congress and the board 
 of war. 
 
 " The hostile Indians and tories before mentioned, to the 
 number of about 800, were posted at Newtown, where they 
 had constructed works of considerable strength, and where 
 they had been long expecting the approach of Sullivan. At 
 length, on the 29th of August, the General arrived. He had 
 with him six light field pieces and two howitzers, and as 
 if determined that his march should be no secret, a morning 
 and evening gun were regularly fired during his whole route. 
 He seemed to consider the enemy as already in his power, and 
 made the most absurd boast of his intentions with regard to 
 them. The assault was commenced by firing his light field 
 pieces against their works, while a detachment under General 
 Poor were ordered to march a mile and a half around the 
 mountain, in full view of the enemy, for the purpose of 
 attacking them on their left flank. Thus put on their guard, 
 they waited the approach of General Poor, and would pro- 
 bably have given him battle ; but his firing being the signal 
 of other movements by Sullivan, they suddenly abandoned 
 their works, and took to flight. Nothing could have been 
 more mortifying to General Sullivan than this escape of what 
 he had deemed a certain prize. He remained in the fort 
 until the 31st, and then marched for Catharine's Town on the 
 Seneca Lake. His road lay through the most dangerous 
 defiles, and a swamp of considerable extent, through which a 
 deep creek flowed in so meandering a course, that it was 
 
NOTES. Y3 
 
 necessary to ford it seven or eight times. He arrived at the 
 entrance of this swamp late in the afternoon, and was strongly 
 advised not to venture into it until the next morning ; but he 
 persisted, and a miracle only prevented his obstinacy from 
 bringing destruction upon liis men. Some of the detiles 
 through which he had to pass, were so narrow and dangerous 
 that a score or two of Indians might have successfully dis- 
 puted the passage against any number of men.- The night 
 was exceedingly dark, the men wearied, scattered and broken, 
 and ready to die rather than move on ; but the Indian scouts 
 who had been sent to watch them, having retired as soon as 
 it was dark, under the full persuasion that no General in his 
 senses would attemjjt such a road by night, the defiles were 
 fortunately unguarded, and the General arrived with his 
 wearied army about midnight at the town. Clinton had 
 halted at the entrance of the swamp, and pursued his march 
 the next day. 
 
 " Sullivan continued for more than a month in the Indian 
 country, laying waste and destroying everything, after the 
 manner of his savage enemy, and completing the destruction 
 of his fame. He arrived about the middle of October at 
 Easton, in Pennsylvania, having in the course of his expedition 
 killed eleven Indians and destroyed eighteen or twenty towns ! 
 Of the 1,400 horses which he had taken with him, 300 only 
 were brought back. His childish and absurd complaints had 
 disgusted the Commander-in-Chief, as well as the board of 
 war, and the ridiculous vanity displayed in his official account 
 
74 NOTES. 
 
 of the expedition, reudered him the jest of the whole army. 
 He was not long able to bear this downfall of his pride and 
 consequence, and on the 9th of November, he solicited per- 
 mission to resign, which Congress readily accorded." 
 
 Allen's Amer. Rev., Vol. 2, pp. 276-279. 
 See also 
 
 Gordon's Amer. War, Vol. 3, pp. 307-312. 
 
 The following extract gives some interesting particulars respecting 
 the condition of the Indian settlements : 
 
 " Many settlements in the form of towns were destroyed, 
 besides detached habitations. All their fields of corn, and 
 whatever was in a state of cultivation, underwent the same 
 fate. Scarce anything in the form of a house was left stand- 
 ing, nor was an Indian to be seen. To the surprise of the 
 Americans, they found the lands about the Indian towns well 
 cultivated, and their houses both large and commodious. The 
 quantity of corn destroyed was immense. Orchards in which 
 were several hundred fruit trees were cut down, and many of 
 them appeared to have been planted for a long series of years. 
 Their gardens, which were enriched with great quantities of 
 useful vegetables of dilferent kinds, were laid waste. The 
 Americans were so full of resentment against the Indians, for 
 the many outrages they had suffered from them, and so bent 
 on making the expedition decisive, that the officers and 
 soldiers cheerfully agreed to remain till they had fully com- 
 pleted the destruction of the settlement. The supplies 
 obtained in the country, lessened the inconvenience of short 
 
NOTES. 75 
 
 rations. The ears of corn were so remarkably large, that 
 many of them measured twenty-two inches in length. 
 Necessity suggested a novel expedient for pulverising the 
 grains thereof. The sokliers perforated a few of their camp 
 kettles with bayonets. The protrusions occasioned thereby 
 formed a rough surface, and by rubbing the ears of corn 
 thereon, a coarse meal was produced, which was easily con- 
 verted into agreeable nourishment." 
 
 Ramsay's Amer. Rev., Vol. 2, pp. 191-192. 
 See also 
 
 Campbell's Tryon Co., pp. 149-166 
 Life of Van Campen, pp. 134-179. 
 Goodwin's Cortland Co., pp. 51-67. 
 Simms' Schoharie Co., p. 295. 
 Stone's Life of Brandt. Vol.2, pp. 1-41. 
 
 (19) Tioga Point, in Bradford County, Pennsylvania, at the 
 continence of the Tioga and Susquehanna rivers, in the 
 northern part of the State, is noted in the annals of Indian 
 warfare as the site of an ancient Indian town, and as a place 
 of rendezvous for parties or armies passing up or down the 
 two great streams. The "Castle" of the celebrated Catharine 
 Montour, sometimes called Queen Esther, was located here. 
 The village of Athens now occupies the place of Gen. Sulli- 
 van's encampment. 
 
 (•20) On the evening of Sept. 12th, 1779, while the army of Gen. 
 Sullivan was encamped near an Indian town, on what is now known as 
 Henderson Flats, a party of about twenty-one men, under command 
 of Lieut. Thomas Boyd, was detached from the rifle corps, and sent out 
 
76 NOTES. 
 
 to reconnoitre the ground near the Genesee river, at a place now 
 called Williamsbnrgh, about seven miles distant from the place of 
 encampment. On their return to the main army, they were attacked 
 by an overwhelming body of savages and tories, and Boyd and a man 
 named Parker were taken prisoners, and subsequently put to death, 
 the former in the most horrible manner, after having his nails pulled 
 out, his nose and tongue cut oflF, and one of his eyes plucked out. The 
 remainder of the party were all killed, with the exception of one 
 Timothy Murphy, who succeeded in making his escape. Shortly after 
 this occurrence, the bodies of Boyd and his slaughtered companions 
 were recovered by the army, and interred at a place now known as 
 Groveland. Their remains lay here until the year 1841, when they 
 were removed to Rochester and deposited in the cemetery at Mount 
 Hope, with appropriate civil and military honors, and in the presence 
 of a vast concourse of spectators. The following is a particular 
 account of the engagement of Lieut. Boyd and his party with the 
 Indians, and of the cruelties subsequently practiced upon him: 
 
 " When the party arrived at Williamsbnrgh, they found 
 that the Indians had very recently left the place, as the fires 
 in their huts were still burning. The night was so far spent 
 when they got to the place of their destination, that the 
 gallant Boyd, considering the fatigue of his men, concluded to 
 remain quietly where he was, near the village, sleeping upon 
 their arms, till the next morning, and then to despatch two 
 messengers with a report to the camp. Accordingly, a little 
 before daybreak, he sent two men to the main body of the 
 army, with information that the enemy had not been dis- 
 covered, but were supposed to be not far distant, from the 
 fires they found burning the evening before. 
 
 " After day-light, Lieut. Boyd and his men cautiously crept 
 from the place of their concealment, and upon getting a view 
 of the village, discovered two Indians lurking about the 
 
NOTES. 77 
 
 settlement ; one of whom was immediately shot and scalped 
 by one of the riflemen, by the name of Murphy. Lieut. 
 Boyd — supposing now that if there were Indians near they 
 would be aroused by the report of the rifle, and possibly by a 
 perception of what liad just taken place, the scalping of the 
 Indian — tliought it most prudent to retire and make his best 
 way back to the main army. They accordingly set out, and 
 retraced the steps they had taken the evening before. 
 
 " On tlieir arriving within about one mile and a half of the 
 main army, they were surprised by the sudden appearance of 
 a body of Indians, to the amount of five hundred, under the 
 command of Brandt, and the same number of rangers, com- 
 manded by the infamous Butler, who had secreted themselves 
 in a ravine of considerable extent, which lay across the track 
 that Lieut. Boyd had pursued. These two leaders of the 
 enemy had not lost sight of the American army since their 
 appalling defeat at the Narrows above Newtown, though they 
 had not shown themselves till now. With what dismay they 
 must have witnessed the destruction of their towns and the 
 fruits of their fields, that marked the progress of our army ! 
 They dare not, however, any more come in contact with the 
 main army, whatever should be the consequence of their for- 
 bearance. 
 
 " Lieut. Boyd and his little heroic party, upon discovering 
 the enemy, knowing that the only chance for their escape 
 would be by breaking through their lines, an enterprise of 
 most desperate undertaking, made the bold attempt. As 
 
78 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 extraordinary as it may seem, the first onset, tliongli nnsuc- 
 cessful, was made without the loss of a man on the part of the 
 heroic band, though several of the enemy were killed. Two 
 attempts more were made, which were equally unsuccessful, 
 and in which the whole party fell, except Lieut. Boyd and 
 eight others. Boyd, and a soldier hy the name of Parker, 
 were taken prisoners on the spot ; a part of the remainder 
 fled, and a part fell on the ground apparently dead, and were 
 overlooked by the Indians, who were too much engaged in 
 pursuing the fugitives to notice those who fell. 
 
 " When Lieut. Boyd found himself a prisoner, he solicited 
 an interview with Brandt, preferring, it seems, to throw him- 
 self upon the clemency and fidelity of the savage leader of the 
 enemy, rather than trust to his civilized colleague. The chief, 
 who was at that moment near, immediately presented himself, 
 when Lieut. Boyd, by one of those appeals and tokens which 
 are known only by those who have been initiated and instructed 
 in certain mysteries, and which never fail to bring succor to a 
 distressed brother, addressed him as tlie only source from 
 which he could • expect respite from cruel punishment or 
 death. The appeal was recognized, and Brandt immediately, 
 and in the strongest language, assured him that his life should 
 be spared. 
 
 " Boyd and his fellow-prisoner were conducted immediately 
 by a party of the Indians to the Indian village, called Beards- 
 town, after a distinguished chief of that name, on the west 
 side of the Genesee river, and in what is now called Leicester. 
 
NOTES. 79 
 
 After their arrival at Beardstown, Brandt, being called on 
 service which required a few hours' absence, left them in the 
 care of Col. Butler. The latter, as soon as Brandt had left 
 theni, commenced an interrogation, to obtain from the 
 prisoners a statement of the number, situation and intentions 
 of the army under Sullivan ; and threatened them, in ease 
 they hesitated or prevaricated in their answers, to deliver 
 them up immediately to be massacred by the Indians; who, 
 in Brandt's absence, and with the encouragement of their 
 more savage commander, Butler, were ready to commit the 
 greatest cruelties. Relying probably upon the promises which 
 Brandt had made them, and which he most likely intended to 
 fulfill, they refused to give Butler the desired information. 
 Upon this refusal, burning with revenge, Butler hastened to 
 put his threat into execution. He delivered them to some of 
 their most ferocious euemies, among which the Indian chief 
 Little Beard was distinguished for his inventive ferocity. In 
 this, that was about to take place, as well as in all the other 
 scenes of cruelty that were perpetrated in his town. Little 
 Beard was master of ceremonies. The stoutest heart quails 
 under the apprehension of immediate and certain torture and 
 death ; where, too, there is not an eye that pities, nor a heart 
 that feels. The suffering Lieut, was first stripped of his 
 clothing, and then tied to a sapling, when the Indians 
 menaced his life by throwing their tomahawks at the tree 
 directly over his head, brandishing their scalping knives 
 around him in the most frightful njanner, and accompanying 
 
80 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 their ceremonies witli terrific sliouts of joy. Having punislied 
 him sufficiently in this way, they made a small oiaening in his 
 abdomen, took out an intestine, which they tied to a sapling, 
 and then unbound him from the tree, and by scourges, drove 
 him around it till he had drawn out the whole of his intes- 
 tines. He was then beheaded, and his head was stuck upon a 
 pole, with a dog's head just above it, and his body left 
 unburied upon the ground. 
 
 " Thus perished Thomas Boyd, a young officer of heroic 
 virtue, and of rising talents ; and in a manner that will touch 
 the sympathies of all who read the story of his death. His 
 fellow-soldier, and fellow-sufferer, Parker, was obliged to 
 witness this moving and tragical scene, and in full expectation 
 of passing the same ordeal. 
 
 " According, however, to our information, in relation to the 
 
 death of these two men, which has been obtained incidentally 
 
 from the Indian account of it, corroborated by the discovery 
 
 of the two bodies by the American army, Parker was only 
 
 beheaded." 
 
 IVilkinson's Annals of Binghampton, pp. 34—38. ; 
 See also 
 
 Stone's Life of Brandt, Vol. 2, pp. 29-33. 
 
 Life ofJemison, pp. 121-122 and p. 291. 
 
 Simms' Schoharie Co., pp. 312-13. 
 
 Life of Van Campen, pp. 160-173. 
 
 Notices of Sullivan's Campaign. 
 
 The following additional facts respecting Lieut. Boyd were obtained 
 from Josias E. Yrooman, who witnessed the parting scene therein 
 described : 
 
 " Lieut. Boyd was a native of Northumberland County, 
 
NOTES. 81 
 
 Pennsylvania. He was about the usual height, and was a 
 stout built, fine looking young man; being very sociable and 
 agreeable in his manners, which had gained him many friends 
 in Schoharie. While there, he paid his addresses to Miss 
 Cornelia, a daughter of Bartholomew Becker, who gave birth 
 to a daughter after his death, of which he was the reputed 
 father. This child, named Catharine, grew up a very 
 respectable woman, and afterwards became the wife of 
 Martinus Vrooman. While the troops under Col. Butler 
 were preparing to leave Schoharie, Miss Becker, in a state of 
 mind bordering on phrensy, approached her lover, caught hold 
 of his arm, and in tears besought him by the most earnest 
 entreaties, to marry her before he left Schoharie. He 
 endeavored to put her oft" with future promises, and to free 
 himself from her grasp. She told him " if he went ofl^ 
 without marrying her, she hoiked he would he cut to irieces 
 hy the Indiansy In the midst of this unpleasant scene, 
 Col, Butler rode up and reprimanded Boyd for his delay, as 
 the troops were ready to march — and the latter, mortified 
 at being seen by his commander, thus importuned by a 
 girl, drew his sword and threatened to stab her if she did 
 not instantly leave him. She did leave him, and antici- 
 pating future shame, called down the vengeance of heaven 
 upon him. Her imprecation was answered, as has been 
 seen, to the fullest extent : a fearful warning to those who 
 trifle with woman's aftections.'' 
 
 Simms' Hist, of Schoharie Co., p. 300. 
 
82 NOTES. 
 
 (21) The following extract, from an English writer, gives one of the 
 best descriptions which we have met witli, of the personal appearance 
 and character of the " Father of his country " : 
 
 sf: if: :(: :tc :i: :+: 
 
 " General Washington is now in the forty-eighth year of 
 his age. He is a tall, well-made man, rather large boned, and 
 has a tolerably genteel address, his features are manly and 
 bold, his eyes of a bluish cast, and very lively ; his hair a 
 deep brown, his face rather long, and marked with the small- 
 pox ; his complexion sun-burnt, and without much color, and 
 his countenance sensible, composed, and thoughtful. There 
 is a remarkable air of dignity about him, with a striking 
 degree of gracefulness ; he has an excellent understanding, 
 without much quickness ; is strictly just, vigilant, and gene- 
 rous ; ah affectionate husband, a faithful friend, a father to 
 the deserving soldier, gentle in his manners, in temper rather 
 reserved ; a total stranger to religious prejudices, which have 
 so often excited Christians of one denomination to cut the 
 throats of those of another. In his morals he is irreproach- 
 able, and was never known to exceed the bounds of the most 
 rigid temperance. In a word, all his friends and acquaint- 
 ances universally allow, that no man ever united in his own 
 character a more perfect alliance of tlie virtues of the philoso- 
 pher with the talents of a general. Candor, sincerity, affa- 
 bility, and simplicity, seem to be the striking features of his 
 character, until an occasion offers of displaying the most 
 determined bravery and independence of spirit." 
 
 London Chronicle, July 'I'l, 1780. 
 
NOTES. 83 
 
 (22) Gilbert Mottier, Marquis de La Fayette, was born 
 in Chavaniac, in the ancient province of Auvergne, in France, 
 Sept. 6, 1757. He was descended from distinguished ances- 
 tors, and was the inheritor of a princely fortune. He was 
 educated at Paris, and at the age of 17 married the Countess 
 Anastasie de Noailles, by whom he received a large accession 
 to his estate. In the year 1777, the most gloomy period of 
 the American struggle, this young nobleman, then only 19 
 years of age, actuated by a love of liberty as pure as it was 
 ardent, left the luxuries of the court, and the endearments of 
 his young wife, and in opposition to the wishes of his friends 
 and the orders of his sovereign, embarked for America, in a 
 vessel fitted out by himself, to aid a people to whom he was 
 bound by no tie of tongue or kindred, and who were then too 
 poor to offer him even a transport to their shores. Upon his 
 arrival in America, he offered himself to Congress as a volun- 
 teer, solicited permission to serve without pay, and raised and 
 equipped a body of men at his own expense. In July he was 
 appointed by Congress a Major-General, and in September he 
 served as a volunteer at the battle of Brandywine, in which 
 engagement he was severely wounded. After his recovery he 
 joined Gen. Greene in New Jersey, and in the battle of Mon- 
 moutli, in 1778, he rendered most important services, for 
 which he received the thanks of Congress. He continued 
 actively employed in different parts of the country until 1779, 
 when he went to France, and after securing aid from that 
 quarter, returned to America. He immediately resumed his 
 
84: NOTES. 
 
 command, and in the campaigns of 1Y80 and 1781, displayed 
 the most consummate generalship. At the siege of Yorktown 
 he shared in the dangers and honors of the day, and after the 
 capitulation of Cornwallis, left again for France. He was 
 about to return to America with a powerful fleet and army, 
 when he received the glorious news of the overtures of peace. 
 In 1784 he visited America, and after spending a few days at 
 Mount Vernon, traveled through the principal cities of the 
 Union, receiving everywhere the honors that were his due. 
 After his return to France, he held a number of prominent 
 positions, both civil and military. In the year 1824, he again 
 visited America, where he was received with the most enthu- 
 siastic demonstrations of respect and affection. Congress 
 made him a grant of 200,000 dollars and a township of land, 
 and he was carried home in the frigate Brandy wine, so named 
 in honor of his bravery in that memorable battle. After liis 
 return to France he again engaged in public affairs, taking an 
 active part in the revolution of 1830, at which time he became 
 marshal of France. 
 
 " Gen. Lafayette was about six feet in stature. He was 
 considered one of the finest looking men in the American 
 army, notwithstanding his deep red hair, which then, as now, 
 was rather in disrepute. His forehead was tine though 
 receding — his eye clear hazel — his mouth and chin delicately 
 formed and exhibiting beauty rather than strength. The 
 expression of his countenance was strongly indicative of tiie 
 generous and gallant spirit which animated him, mingled with 
 
NOTES. 85 
 
 something of the pride of conscious manliness. His mien 
 was noble — his manners frank and amiable, and his move- 
 mentslight and graceful. He wore his hair plain, and never 
 complied so far with the fashion of the times as to wear 
 powder." 
 
 After a long and eventful career, tliis devoted friend of 
 Washington and America died at Paris, on the 20th day of 
 May, 1834, in the TTth year of his age. Admired and honored 
 in life, he died universally lamented, leaving behind him a 
 name which the proudest monarch may envy and the most 
 ambitious warrior well emulate — that of a disinterested, noble 
 minded and consistent patriot. Dearly beloved as he was, 
 his memory will ever be fresh in the heart of every true 
 friend to his country. 
 
 (03) Ebenezer Fletcher, as we have before remarked, was 
 married in the year 1786 to Miss Polly Cummings. The father 
 of this lady, Mr. Samuel Cummings, was at that time a resi- 
 dent of New Ipswich, and owner of the mills at Mill Village. 
 He carried on the mills successfully for a number of years, 
 and then sold them out to Mr. Fletcher, who had learned the 
 trade of him. Mr. Cummings subsequently moved to Cornish, 
 N. H., and died there on the sixth day of June, 1796, at the 
 age of seventy-eight years. Mr. Fletcher, by his first 
 wife, who died on the 26th day of February, 1812, had six 
 sons and six daughters, whose names and places of birth and 
 death are as follows : 
 
86 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 Born in Ne.ie Ipswich, N.H. Died. 
 
 1st. Ebenezeb, Jr .Oct. 9, 1782. .Nov. 14, 1834, in 
 
 2d. CuMMiNGS July 5, 1784. .July 22,1837, " 
 
 3d. John Aug. 14,1786. .July 10,1842, " 
 
 4th. Polly Aug. 21, 1788. . Aug. 27, 1840, " 
 
 5th. Joseph May 22,1790. .Feb. 18,1863, " 
 
 6th. Betsey Dec. 28,1792. .May 5,1842, " 
 
 7th. Sally) ^ . „.„,„„, j July 17,18,54, " 
 
 , ,, > Twms.YeiX). 6,1794 ■{ „ ,_„, ,, 
 
 8th. Milly( / " 11,1794, " 
 
 9th. Nancy May 22, 1797. .. .Still living " 
 
 10th. Dexter Ap'l 19,1799 ' 
 
 nth. SuKY May 30,1801. .Aug. 13, 1803, " 
 
 12th. RoBY June 16, 1803 Still living " 
 
 Corinth, N. H. 
 Enosburg, Vt. 
 Ann Arbor, Mich. 
 Illinois. 
 
 Ashburnham, Mass. 
 Boston, Mass. 
 New Ipswich, N.H. 
 
 Mt. Vernon, 
 New Ipswich, 
 
 Mr. Fletcher's second wife was Mrs. Mary Foster, widow of 
 Nathaniel Foster, and daughter of Asa Kendall. She had no 
 children by Mr. Fletcher. By her first husband she had two 
 sons and five daughters. She was a member of the Baptist 
 church for many years, and sustained a good Christian 
 character. She survived her husband, Mr. Fletcher, a num- 
 ber of years, and died in Winchendon, Mass., January. 25th, 
 1851, at the age of 85 years. 
 
 C 1 ti 
 
 §kf\ 
 
.*' ^.■•■-••/ \-^-\/ V'-^'/ 
 
 'o v 
 
 ^^--^ 
 
 
 -y-o^ 
 
 ^0 ♦'*"' V V ♦'*^' 
 
 
 ^^-V^. 
 
 ^, ^. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 0" *'.^M^^\ ^ 
 
 sJ^hV 
 
 

 ^J>. "^ <V °<u 
 
 "^ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ^^-^^