DUKE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY ^m"^ '^i& Treasure ^om MEMOIRS OF STEPHEN BURROUOHS TO WHICH .iBE ADDED, NOTES, A,XD AX AFPENBIX. When such sad scenes the bosom pain, What eye from weeping can refrain. VOL. J. ALBAXY: PUBUSHED BY B. D PACKARD, Xo. 51 STATE-STREET H. PACKARD, PRINTER. 1811. T 4eC:?lt *j The following is a Lefte?' from the Author to a Friend^ who had requested a Narrative of his Life, WASHINGTON, 25tli JULY, 1794. DEAR SIR, A HE uninterrupted attention of your polite- ness to my welfare since my arrival in this coun- try, is a sufficient inducement for me to attend to any request which you shall barely intimate. You mentioned yesterday, whilst I was enjoy- ing the agreeable society of your family, that a relation of my adventures would be highly gratifying at some convenient time, when op- portunity would serve. You say, that what had come to your knowledge previous to any acquaintance with me, but more especially vrhat has occurred since my residence in this place, has filled you v.i h an almost irresistible anxie- ty to be made acquainted vrith the more minute circumstances of a life which has been filled with so many curious anecdotes and unheard of occurrences. I fear the relation will poorly answer your expectations. My life, it is true, has been one continued course of tumult, revo- lution and vexation ; and such as it is, I will give to you in detail, (in this method, rather than verbally, it being more convenient to peruse it at your leisure, than to listen to the dull tale of egotisms which I must make use of in a verbal relation.) When you become tired Vv'ith read- ing, you will be under no necessity of holdinp; the book in your handfrom the feelings of deli- IV cacy, but can lay it by at leisure. This liberty you could not so conveniently take with a dull reiater of a more dull narrative. You say my character, to you, is an enigma ; that I possess an uncommon share of sensibility, and at the same time, maintain an equality of mind which is uncommon, particularly in the midst of those occurrences which are calculated to wound the feelings. I have learned fortitude in the school of adversity. In draining the cup of bitterness to its dregs, I have been taught to despise the occuiTcnces of misfortune. This one thing I fully believe, that our happiness is in our power more than is generally thought; or at least, we have the ability of preventing that misery which is so common to unfortunate situations. No state or condition in life, but from which we may (if we exercise that reason which the God of Nature has given us) draw comfort and hap- piness. We are too apt to be governed by the opinion of others, and if they think our circum- stances unhappy, to consider them so ourselves, and of course, make them so. The state of the mind is the only criterion of happiness or mise- rv. The Cynic Diogenes was more happy than the Conqueror Alexander, and the Philosopher Socrates more happy than either. They all had, undoubtedly, passions and feelings alike, which, not properly regulated, would have ren- dered them equally unhappy. Yet, whenever jcason stood at helm, the vessel was brought iiilo the haven of peace. "^i^- ^ MEMOIRS STEPHEN BURROUGHS. '4 -4 ■< < ■«S>^^>- »■>••>• CHAP. I. "• l-'all Avell I know you ; deeyj, too deep engrav'cl " On memoiy's tablet your rude horrors iive." iN relating the facts of ray life to you, I shall endeavor to give as simple an account of them as I am able, without coloring or darkening any circumstances ; ulthough ihc relation of many matters will give me a cegrce ai^d kind oi pain, which only they who fcei can describe. I have oftci- lamented my neglect of keeping minutes of the occurren- ces of my life, from time to time, v/hen they were fresh in my memory, and alive to my feelings ; the disadvantage of which I now feci, when I come to run over in my mind the chain which has connected the events toarether. INIanv circumstances are entirely lost, and many miore so ob- scurely remembered, that I shall not even attempt to give them a place in this account. Not to trouble you with any more prefatory remarks, I vriil proceed to the relation. I am the only son of a clergyman, living in Hanover, i,i the state of New-Hampshire ; and, were any to expect merit from their parentage, I might justly look for that merit. But I am so far a republican, that I consider -j. man's merit to rest entirely with himself, without any regard to family, blood, or connexion. My father bein^j: a Presbyterian by principle, I was educated in all the lig- or of that order, v.hich illy suited my volatile, impatien:; temperof mind ; this being the case, my first entrance on the stage of life, was by no means the most a-rrceubi''. 6 MEMOIRS OF ?vly thirst for amiisemcnt wcs insatiable, and as in niy sit- aiion, the only dependence for that gratincation "was en- :;>ly -vvithin inyseif, I sought it in pestering others, cs- cci..ily those Avho were my superiors in age, and in laking them appear in a ludicrous situation, so as to raise AQ laugh at their expense, and partake of the general ivcrsion, which such a m.atter created. My success in kose undertakings was so great, that I became the terror i the people where I lived, and ail were very unaninious n deciariiig, that Stephen Burroughs was the worst boy in town ; and these who could get him whipt were most worthy of esteem. Their attempts to bring on my back .1 flagellation were often very successful, for m.y heedless temper seldom studied for a retreat, when I was fairly in -li.nger ; however, the repeated application of this birchen niedieine never cured my pursuit of fun. A neighbour of my father, an old man, had a fine yard of water-melon^i, which had been purloined by somebody for three or four Nucceeding nights ; the old man, being of a hasty, petu- "..nt disposition, was determined to watch his water-mel- ns, with a club, and severely beat the thief. One night ' e took his SLri-nd*in a convenient place for watching, un- .uov.'R to any one. Accident made me acqu^iinted with ne old man's situation, and suspecting his intention, I v/ent to a son of his, a young man of about twenty, and • old hira I saw a man in the water-melon yard, whom I - uspeetcd to be the tliief, and advised him to go cautious- ly to the yard, and peradvcnturc he might catch him. Accordingly the young man went ; but no sooner had lie i;;ot into the yard, than the old uian, supposing this to be •J-e thief, rushed ficm his hiding place, and attacked his : on with his cli b, and severely handled the poor fellow i^eforc he found out his mistake : the son, supposing the thief was beating him, bawled out to his father, who, he r:er some sinister end ; a view of which insensibly leads the child into the practice of dis- simulation- The ambition in children of becoming like their superiors, rightly directed, is of the utmost impor- tance, in forming them such as they ought to be. To grant a child your approbation, when doing, or desiring to do right, is a reward which he will ever seek after, when. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. he thinks it within his reach ; therefore, to keep that re- ward uniformly within his power, is a matter of impor- tance ; and not, by indulging a petulent disposition, destroy or render doubtful his expectations of obtaining what he merits. Here you establish the first principles of justice in his mind, upon which he will practice, when he be- comes an active member of society. As the child advan- ces to a riper state, and becomes what is ge^^rally termed a youth, he feels the strength of his disposition for assim- ulating his character to the feelings of mankind increase, and he will adopt such measures as his judgment then dictates ; hence, to inform his judgment, is the only way to make him capable of conducting well ; to restrain him., by dictatorial dogmas, from the paths of error, will answer but a temporar)' purpose ; until he learns by the lesions of reason, or by the more feeling effects of prudence, he never will be in a capacity to act his part in life with pro- priety. We must expect to find many errors in the cal- culations of youthful years, and those errors ought to be pruned by the most careful hand, lest the harshness of the pruning should appear to the subject the cruel stroke of an enemy, rather than the gentle touch of a friend. To censure the faults of youth beyond what they ought to bear, is generally attended with fatal consequences. It destroys the object of their pursuit, viz. approbation ; ihey revolt at the injustice, which they sensibly feel ; therefore, inflicting unjust punishment is generally at- tended with fatal consequences in the system of education. It destroys the principles of equity in the youthful breast, and s.ubstitutes in their room, the despotic principles of tyranny. This cause strongly operates in society. Hence, my Lord Hale, with great pertinency and hrimr-nity says, " better ten guilty escape, than one innocent person suf- fer." I have often seen instances v/here the ambition of youth to do well, has been destroyed, by censuring their fjults with too much seventy ; one of which I will men- tion. I once taught a school in a town of Massachusetts, I y the name of Charlton. Having a school consisting of eighty members, I divided them, according to my usual custom, into two classes. Mv school, at this time, was 10 MEMOIRS OF entirely regulated according to my mind, and in the most obedient order, greatly to the satisfaction of the parents of the children, who frequented the school. Application was made to me at this time, by a clergyman in the vicin- ity, for the admission of his son into the school. With great difficulty I persuaded the committee, who had the direction of admitting members, to admit him. My de- sire for his admission sprang from the same cause which the committee's aversion did. The youth v/as fifteen years of age, and had been expelled from all the schools in the country, consequently, whatever Dodge, the name of this youth, was concerned in, must, in the opinion of people, be adopted from a wrong motive. Convinced from my own feelings under similar circumstances, that a different line of conduct towards him, from what had been observed, would produce a different effect, I was desirous of trying the experiment. Accordingly, when he came to my school, I intimated to him, that he must take the lead of one of the classes, which composed the school ; and that 1 expected from his exertions and example, his class would make a very respectable appearance. I endeavor- ed to convince him, that this appointment was not from design, but from a real esteem of his merit, by showing him many little distinctions. His conduct, for about twelve or fourteen days, Avas equal to my most sanguine expectations ; but returning from dinner one day, I found the school in an uproar at the conduct of Dodge, who, in my absence, had gone into the upper loft of the house, and had most scandalously insulted some young women, who were at the back side of the school house. Com- phint was made of this, with all the exaggerations which are apt to attend the transgression of such a character. Dovlge himself was present at the time, and discovered that mortification in his countenance, which made me feel sensibly affected for him. I treated the report as though I could not believe that Dodge had conducted in such a manner as to render it possible, that the thing should be as represented; that some mistake must have existed, and refused to pay any further attention to it. It would have bee:i to you, sir, a matter of curiosity, to have ob- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 1 1 served the workings of the countenance of Dodge under this trial ; and when he found that my confidence in him was yet unshaken, so contrary to his fears, 1 was really afraid he would have fainted. This had the desired effect. Never had I one in my school who conducted better after- wards, during his whole continuance with me, which was about a year. I would not wish to be understood that a relaxation of discipline is ever to be admitted ; on the contrary, the most uniform course of this administration should be at- tended to, without the least deviation. Our commands, in the first place, ought to be reasonable, humane, and parental, calculated to promote, not only the good of the subject of our government, but likewise embracing for their object, the benefit of the whole community. When the commands are once given, never ought we to suffer a breach of them under any circumstances whatever. By such a practice we make good subjects, good legislators, and good executors. By these means we habituate our youth to submit to good and wholesome laws, without be- ing in danger of that restless turbulent disposition, which so frequently distracts the government of a Commonwealth. We likewise make them good legislators, by giving them constant examples, in our mode of governing them, of jus- tice, humanity, and parental kindness ; and when those principles are once established in the human breast, the governing object of such characters will be, to enact and establish such laws as will distribute and support the genu- ine and real principles of their education. They, like- wise, will make men, who, in their executive capacity, win promote the highest good of society, by uniformly adhering to an undeviating course of executing laws to which they are appointed. But I return from this digres- sion to the narrative. CHAP. II. ■ Tis education forms the common mind ; Just as the twig- is bent, the tree's inclin'd. JjEING posse sse(J with the most romantic ideas of mili- tary prowess, I longed for an opportunity of signalizing 12 MEMOIRS OF myself in that department, and consequently, embraced the first opportunity of entering into the military line. At this time a regiment of the continental forces, commanded by Col. Hazen, were marching through the country where I lived, and I, at the age of fourteen, enlisted into an artil- lery company attending the regiment, as a private soldier. This circumstance soon coming to the knowledge of my father, he applied to the officer under whom I had enlist- ed, and obtained my discharge. Chagrined and disap- pointed at this unexpected repulse, I concluded that all my prospects for fame were at an end, knowing of no other opportunity by which I could, probably, introduce myself into the military department. The regiment were on a march, which took them about six weeks, and returned through Hanover again, on their way to head-quarters. While they lay encamped in this town, about five miles from my father's house, I began to consider the probabil- ity of joining them again ; thmking that should I neglect this opportunity, all my future prospects in life were at an end. After revolving this subject some time in my mind, I came to a resolution to elope from my father, about the -time the regiment were to march, and go off with them. Report said they were to march on lilonday morning, therefore, that was the time fixed in my mind to leave my father's house. On the Sunday preceding the time of their march, my father was absent, on a change with a neighboring minister, and so produced a favorable oppor- tunity for the execution of my plan. On some pretended ca«se, I tarried from church that day, in order to have an opportunity of making those arrangements which I thought necessary to equip myself for a soldier. Accord- ingly, 1 took a bed blanket and tied it full of clothes aod provisions, not knowing that I should ever be provided with either by the public. My provision consisting of bread and cheese, that being the only kind which was ready cooked, would best answer my purpose. All this baggage, together with an old musket, belonging to my ' father^ powder-horn filled with powder, and thirty balls, I laid by in a convenient place until the important moment should arrive. About the dawn of day, on Monday morn- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. lo ing, I placed myself under the enormous load, contained in the blanket, after being accoutred with powder-horn and musket, and pursued my wav with great energy to the camp, where I arrived a little after sunrise. My appear- ance in camp, in this ludicrous plight, was an object of univei^al curiosity and amusement. Sweating under an^ enormous load of bread and cheese, brandishing the old family musket of my father's, accoutred with a due quan- tity of powder in a horn, by my side, and a sufficiency of ball in my pocket to kill thirty men, if rightly directed, I made the appearance of more than Quixotic bravery. Sure- ly the knight of La Mancha, had he seen me in my pres- ent plight, vv'ould have dismounted from the mcSt re-^ doubtable Rozinante, and would have yielded to me the. palm of chivalry, as the most accomplished knight on the sod. These first dawnings of resolution and perseverance, which were manifested in this ridiculous essay, I found were pleasing to the officer, under whom I had formerly enlisted ; to whom I again applied for admission into his company, but previously declared, that I would not again enlist with him, unless he would engage not to discharge me if my father should pursue me. The regiment did not march till near the middle of the day, much to my dis- appointment, and I received the disagreeable intelligence thai my father had arrived in camp previous to their march. The resoluuon of my officer, who was a man of feeling, was not proof against the solicitations of my father. He again discharged me, and my father took me home. As the obstacles to my joining the army increased, my reso- lution lo surmount them gained strength, and my anxiety for this purpose had risen to such a degree, that I deter- mined to elope the first minute I was from under my fa- ther's eye, and follow the regiment. All that day and night I was guarded with the utmost attention. About ten o'clock the next morning I v»^as sent on an errand to the next neighbor's, about the distance of ten rods. When I had gotten that distance, I ran with all my might, and never stopped until I had run twenty-eight miles from 14 MEMOIRS OF home, where I overtook the regiment. There I enlisted Vr'ith another officer, determined not to be dismissed again by my former misplaced confidence. I had not been here long before my father, vath two other men, came full tilt after me. Being somewhat doubtful whether I should again be discharged, I determined to make my own safety by flight, but the men who were with my father, observ- ing my operations, pursued and overtook me after some little difficulty. However, the officer under v.hom I had enlisted absolutely refused to discharge me, unless I gave my consent. Accordingly, my father njade application to me, for my approbation in the matter. This was a new scene ; to view^ my parent before me a supplicant, be- seeching me to return with him ; stating to my view, the situation of a disconsolate mother, the most affectioiiate of parents ; the yearnings of his own feelings of compas- sion towards me, and the unhappy situation to which they should all be reduced, should I still persist in my desper- ate resolution of leaving them ; this v/as a situation too alTecting for me to bear. A flood of contending passions rushed on my mind. To return from the fxrst attempt for military fame, before I had fairly set out, after formi- ing such strong resolutions to the contrary, appeared to me pusillanimous and foolish. On the other hand, to break through all the ties of nature, compassion and benevolence, was what my soul sickened at viewing. One moment I v/as determined on going, at the next I M'as for returning. No permanent resolution could I form till the next morn- ing, when the revallee being beaten, all the feelings of military ardor were again rekindled, and I was determin- ed to march. My father finding my resolution fixed, took a most solem.n and affecting leave. This scene I cannot reflect upon without feeling the weakness of a woman. The night following, when the hurry of contending pas- sions had subsided, and I had full leisure for taking a re- trospective view of those very singular transactions, they filled my mind with the severest conipunctions. To view my parent returning to a disconsolate family, laden v/ith . sorrow, whilst I had been deaf to all the calls of nature and compassion, were circumstances wiiich tilled me with the STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 15 keenest sensation of distress ; and the night following T was not able to dose my eyes to sleep, such were the agi- tations of my mind. There I determined to return to my father, notwith* standing all the mortifying circumstances which would attend such a procedure. Early the next morning, a cler- gyman, by the nam. e of Olcott, came to me, to persuade me to return to my father. This he found no difficult matter to do. I told him frankly I was willing : but when he m.ade application to my officer for a discharge, he was flatly refused. AVe marched from thence to head-quar- ters, at West-Point, without meeting with any occurren- ces worth relating. When the regiment had arrived en the North River, they were constantly alarmed by the enemy, and had a number of skirmishes with them. At such times I v/as always kept back with the baggage, and never suffered to go into action, notwithstanding all my entreaty. I fully believe, had I been indulged in my romantic disposition, I should have rushed foolishly into that danger, from which I never should have returned. These repulses brought about that mortification and disappointment which cured me of my mtilitary ardor. Filled with resentment and chagrine, I suddenly left the army and returned home to my father. Soon after my return, my father wrote the following letter to Genera) Washington for my discharge, and sent it by the hand of the honorable Bezaleel Wood- ward, Esq. who was then on his way to Congress, frcri the state of New-Hampshire. '■^ Huno-osr^ J\\ Hainpshire, Dec. 24.. 1779. ^^ Much hosored sir^ *' These wait on your excellency to inform, that while Col. Hazen's regiment remained at Coos, Lieut. Crowley, an officer of the train, meeting vvith my son, ayoung lad of the age of fourteen years, persuaded him to enlist into his company ; with some difficulty I obtained his release from that enlistment. But the young lad having had his mifid inflamed by many fair promises and airy encouragements, with unappeasable desires to join the service, afterv/ards -16 MEMOIRS OF eloped frohi me, and enlisted under Capt. Lloyd, on the regiment's return from these parts to hec.d-quarters. But finding his expectations disappointed, he left the army soon after its arrival at head-quarters, and is now at home with me. As a sovereign God has not long since depriv- ed me of four children, a«d has left me but two to survive their death ; and as this son is a lad so much under the age that is commonly deemed necessary to constitute a soldier 'fit for the service, and as I had ever designed him for a public education, your excellency will please to in- dulge my request, that he may be discharged from the ser- vice. Though I have the cause of America sincerely at heart, and ever have, and trust ever shall exert myself to the utmost of my ability in its behalf; yet your excellency will not wonder at any degree of reluctance in me, against my son's engaging in the ser\-ice under my present cir- cumstances. Your excellency will please to signify your pleasure by the bearer, and due obedience shall be ren- dered to your commands with cheerfulness. With daily prayers, that the God of armies will be you-r shield and friend, and honor your excellency as an instrument, of complete salvation and deliverance to the United States of America, I am your excellency's Most obedient humble servant, EDEN BURROUGHS. His Excellency Geop.ge Washington, Esq. P. S. During the time my son was in the army, he never passed muster, nor drew any bounty or clothing." CHAP. III. Scenes of my youth ! pa.le sorrow fllng-s A shude o'er v.W yoiu' beauties uow ; And robs the mon;enls of their v/ing's, I'Lat scatter pleasures as tliey flow. s OON after this my father placed me at school under the tuition of the hUc Joseph iluntington, D. D. whuie STEPHEN BURROUGHS. \7 fame for an instructor was very noted throughout all Ihc New-England States ; where I continued one year, and was then removed to Dartmouth College, of which I be- came a member. Whilst I was with Doctor Huntington, many of those boyish pranks which students are apt to practice, in order to give themselves the tone of wits, were performed by me to the no small diversion of myself and the other stu- dents, and to the great hindrance of my pursuit in literary acquirements. This was the hour of folly. »om the effect of this age flowed a continued stream of crude, un- digested whims, which kept the school and myself in a constant uproar. I became an inmate in the family ot my preceptor, which consisted of the Doctor, ISIrs. Hunt- ington, two sons by a former wife, nearly my ov/n age, and a number of small children, how many I do not re- collect. The Doctor himself was a character whose par- allel is not commonly found. A man of veiy considerable oratorical abilities, which consisted more in smooth fig- ures, and ingenious declamation, than in close metaphys- ical reasoning. A mind by no means tied down to estab- lished modes and forms, but internally despising them ; possessing an unbounded amxbition ; fond of flattery. A temper, when undisturbed, philanthropic, but disappoint- ment and chagrine changed it into the boisterous rage of a northwest whirlwind. Mrs. Huntington, a character truly amiable. Joseph, second son to the Doctor, after his owii name, about one year younger than myself. This youth was truly the son of his father. The fire of his am- bition was great ; his resolution was equal to his ambi- tion ; and his eccentricity was equal to both ; with a strong mind, equal to his father, he despised the shackles of education, broke through all the little obstacles of vul- gar prejudice, and pursued those paths to which the fire of genius, and the want of judgment at that time directed him. The rest of the family had nothing uncommon in their characters which distinguished them from mankind in general. Being full of vivacity, Joseph and I were almost per- petually prosecuting some scene of amusenieiit or cilvc. B 2 13 MEMOIRS OF LJon. Some cf these pastimes were graduated upon u. ^.'vjile of innocence, and some, I am sorry to say, embraced for their object the vexation and detriment of the neigh- bors. Our chief force M'as aimed at a neighbor, com- monly known by the name of Tyger, on account of his morose misanthropic disposition. One night we repaired \o his house t.nd took logs from his wood pile, about two feet in length, and piled them up against his door, until they reached the top, laying them in such a manner as to incline into the house. After arranging matters in this c.rder, v,e made a noise as if attempting to get into the c'd man's garden, sufficiently loud for him to hear ; im^- mediately upon this the old man crept softly to the door, Wid opening it suddenly, down came the logs so rapidly as tc knock Lim to the floor, and cover him over. The noise v*hich this made alarmed the family universally, with cUi idea thu they felt the shock of an earthquake, and that the last judgment had arrived, which set some a scream- ing and some a pruying, and for a long time these ideas so wholly occupied the minds of the family, that the old man could not get any assistance from the load of timber, un- der which he was buried. Immediately upon his being freed from his confinement, he put on some clothes and repaired to Doctor Huntington'?:, in order to enter a com- plaint against Joseph and myself, whom he suspected of being the agents in this dis.igreeable scene ; and the rea- soa of his suspicion was founded in this, viz. but a fevv- days before, Joseph and I were caught by him, picking s^ome early apples off a tree in his garden ; a complaint of which was made, and we obliged to pay three shillings. But as we v. ere seen to go to bed that niglit and found in bed when he came with this last complaint, and no evi- dence that \f e had left our bed, it was concluded that hiij suspicions wanted proof, and there this matter ended. Soon after this, we contrived another plan to disturb th.c old man's quiet. Joseph went to him, and with a woful countenance professed his sorrovv"- for his having given iiim trouble, and in order to evince his sorrow, told him I.e had to inform of an intention of some of the scholars to lob his apple trees that niglit, and advised him to watch, STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 10 that he might detect them ; and if he should, they would have to pay him a considerable sum of money. This bait the old man eagerly swalloM'ed, and took his stand accord- ingly for watching. The other part of this contrivance I was to act myself, as being the best fitted fei* it, on account of my superior agility. Accordingly, about ten at night, I crept along- close to the garden fence till I came, as though by acci- dent, near to the old man, at which I turned and ran, and he. after me. Being able abundantly to out-run him, I kept but a very small distance before him, pretending to run with all my might, in order to raise his expectations of beiig able to overtake me ; when coming to the edge of a ditch, which contained about three feet depth of mud and filth, I clapped down on my hands and knees before the old man, and he stumbled over me plump into the ditch ; but cathing hold of the skirt of my coat, tore it off and carried it into the ditch with him. This was a clue which served the next day to unravel the plot in part, as it related to me ; and when complaint was made to our Preceptor, he acquitted us entirely, as not having done any thing unlawful, nor having attempted it according to tho proof. This was a scene of great diversion to the Doctor. The v/oful countenance which Tyger made about falling intcv the ditch, together with my strutting about without a skirt to my coat, altogether, made so ludicrous an appear* ance, that notv/ithstanding all the exertion of the Doctor, he could not suppress the rising inclination to laugh, but would, once in a while, burst forth in spite of himself. ^ Not long after this I had intelligence of the death of an only brother by a letter from my father to the Doctor, a copy of the answer to which is as follows : " Coventry^ (Con.) 20th jYov, 1780. '' Rev. AyD vert deap. sir, " In your great affliction I am afflicted ; and the sight of your letter, with the melancholy tidings, made a very deep impression upon my heart. I have several times lasted of the bitter cup ; may \Ye leara to live Vv-holly on 20 MEMOIRS OF Gocl. If our houses are not so with him as wc naturally wish, and do not grow and flourish agreeably to our fond hopes ; yet there is an everlasting covenant, ordered in all things, and sure ; let this be all our salvation, and all our desire. Dear sir, I condole with you and Mrs. Burroughs in this furnace of affliction, and our prayers for each other, I doubt not, are mutual. With regard to Stephen, he behaves well, and makes good progress in his learning ; seems well contented : we take the same care of him as of of our own children, as to everything he stands in need of. I am glad to see that he takes serious notice of the death of his dear brother. I have done, and shall do, all in my pow- er that, with the blessing of God, he may make a good im- provement of it, and be a spiritual gainer by so great a loss. You know how, dear sir, to leave your nov/ only son with Ood, as well as all your other concerns, for time and eter- nity. While Stephen is with me, be assured that I will be as kind and faithful a parent to him as I am capable. But alas I what are friends, children, or any of the dying en- joyments of this transitory world I had you not a better portion, you would be very unhappy ; but you can say with the Prophet, " although the fig tree shall not blos- som—.'* ^'' May Mrs. Huntington's sincere love and sympathetic condolence, together with mine, be acceptable to Mr. Bur- roughs and his lady. I have the honor to be, my dear sir, »vith great respect. Your m.ost obedient, humble servant, JOSEPH HUNTINGTON. Rev. Mr. Burroughs." As it is a custom generally through the state of Con- necticut to keep Saturday evenings as the commencement of holy tim^e, and consequently, to consider Sunday as ex- piring with the beginning of the succeeding evening, the relation of the following circumstance will not be so much wondered at. One Sunday, after sunset, a number of the Doctor's students had assembled in the street, and were somewhat i^oisy about -x pastime by which they were amusing them- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 21 selves. This noisy merriment appeared to the Doctor to be mistimed, when exhibited in the street, at so great a proximity with the Sunday ; and therefore, he wished us to-desist from pursuing our sport in the street, and attend to it in the door-yard ; telling us we might do any thing in the yard, if we would not make any noise in the street. We accordingly all came into his yard, and began our amusement again ; but soon stopped by an idea being suggested of the great liberty which the Doctor had granted us, of doing any thing in his yard. His office of necessity stood within the limits of the yard ; therefore, it was proposed, and immediately agreed, to upset this build- ing. Dr. Huntington rising very early the next morning, ac- cording to his usual custom, saw the destruction of his little house. On making inquiry of the scholars, they all denied that they knev/ how the house came to be overset, until he came to me, and said, " Bun'oughs, do you know how the little house was turned over ?" " Yes, sir." — " Well, who turned it over ?" " We, who were at play, last evening, in the yard." How came you to turn it o- ver ?" "You said, sir, we might do any thing in the yard." The Doctor said no more ; went down ; procured some hands ; and replaced the necessary on its former founda- tion. Not long after t^s, the Doctor wrote the followhig letter to my father. « Coventry, (Con.) March 8thj 1781. " Reverend and dear sir, " You and your lady will please to accept our best re- gards : no doubt the welfare of your only son lies near both your hearts : he is Vv'ell ; has a fine genius, makes swift advances in the classics. There is in him such an exuberance of life and spirits, as requires uncommon vig- iknce and care in the oversight and direction of jiis ways, in this early period of life, v/hich however, I trust may in future time make him so mivch the more active and use- ful in the sevvice of God and his country. I hope he will pass a good examination at the next commencement, if you choose he should enter ColleQ:e. At his ov/n earnest 22 MEMOIRS OF request, he boards about a mile and an half from my house, •with a young man a little older than he ; I have thought proper to dispense with the distance of way, in considera- tion that the family and whole vicinity are attached to re- ligion, virtue, and good order, more than any other neigh- borhood in this place, and more, almost, than ever I knew any where in the world. Mr. Wright lives next door to him ; he and all the neighbors have a great respect for you, and unite in every friendly effort for the best interest of your son. T often tell him. however, that he may return and board with me whenever he is willing ; mean v/hile, I take the same care of all his wants as though he was in my ov/n house. " Such are the times with us, sir, that the support of those ministers who live by the penny, without farms, is one half curtailed, even among parishes that do the best for them,' and if such times continue, I must give my sons their education at home. I hope, however, in the good providence of God, they will live to have the benefit of Dartmouth College. " What we can do for your son in the family, is left wholly to your generosity ; and indeed, v/as my income as in years past, the whole expense I should look upon not worthy of any account. Rest assured, sir, that the best interest of your son is daily consulted, to the utmost of my ability, and I hope and trust that his parents and his coun- try will rejoice in his honor and usefuhiess in days to come. " I am, dear sir, with great affection and respect, " Your most obedient humble servant, JOSEPH HUNTINGTON. Rev. Mr. Burroughs." Sometime after this, boarding about a mile and a half from the Doctor's, with another lad nearly of my own age, we took an old horse that ran in the road, and mounted him, as we were going to school, without saddle or bridle, and rode him through the street full tilt. This circum- stance becoming known, the owner of the horse applied to a justice of the peace and obtained a warrant for us, and being taken, were brought before him and fined, together STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 23 M ith the cost, fifteen dollars ; the owner having summon- ed twenty witnesses to prove one fact. Soon after this I returned to my father, and brought the following letter from the Doctor to him. " Coventry^ (Con,) Se/it. 5th, 1781. " Reverend sir, " On examination, I trust you will find your son well accomplished to perform the exercises of a freshman at college ; with constant study I think he is able to do it better than freshmen in general did at Yale College in my day. I have done every thing in my power for his educa- tion and his morals, and am exceedingly grieved to ac- quaint you, that one affair has happened since I last wrote to you, which must be uncomfortable to his parents, as in- deed it has been to me. " Stephen was so unguarded, about the middle of June last, as to take and use ahorse several times, and that even in a cruel manner, withcret the knowledge of the owner, Avho lived not in my parish, but in the vicinity, near the borders of it : the ov-ner of the horse happens to be one of the most inhuman, cruel, revengeful, spiteful monsters that ever disgraced humanity ; and as soon as he found out the matter, he was wholly bent on vengeance and the ut- most cruelty. I took and pastured the horse eight weeks, and repaired all damage more than seven fold ; I also of- fered the man two crowns if he would settle the matter without a law suit, and took every other step I could think of to save expense and prevent a public noise; but all in vain. The monster knew that the law in such a case is extremely severe, awarding three fold damages and all costs, and nothing could glut his infernal malice till he had drawn your son before authority. And, for three fold damages and costs, obtained judgment against him for about fifteen dollars ; for the payment of which, two of my neighbors, Mr. Porter and Mr. Hawkins, gave their security, and your son returned to his study as before. The affair gave me unspeakable distress of mind, and even ^ept me awake several nights. The authority could do ^-.Ihing in the case but what they did ; the law is plain. The monster that prosecuted summoned a great cloud of 24 MEMOIRS OF evidences on purpose, I suppose, to gratify his malice in augmenting the cost. Our people, sir, have all the high- est respect and veneration for you, and are ready to inter- pose and do all they can to save you trouble, and with one voice cry out upon the wretch that has been so cruel to you and your son. " It is highly necessary, sir, that you should make us a visit as soon as may be after commencement. I am in fear you will think somewhat hard ©f me, that I did not retain Stephen in my own house ; when I see you, I will give you the fullest satisfaction in that matter. Had he been willing to have lived with me the whole time, I should have rejoiced at it, notwithstanding the extreme difficulty of my keeping any boarders in these times. I hope God will dispose and improve him in some important and honorable station in life, as he has certainly an excellent genius ; though he is as yet in the vanity of youth. " I mourn that I cannot wait on you, as I intended, and the other worthy gentlemen of the board. " May our kindest regards be acceptable to Mr. Bur- roughs and lady ; may all New Covenant blessings be your portion, and that of your remaining children : after all our trouble may we meet in everlasting rest. " My kind love to all my friends and acquaintance in your parts. I remain. Rev. and dear Sir, with the firm- est attachments, and most cordial affection, your faithful friend, and most obedient humble servant, JOSEPH HUNTINGTON. Rev. Mr. Burroughs." Inasmuch as you are now on the subject of Dr. Hunt- ington and his correspondence with my father, I v.ill here insert two other letters written by him some years after ; one, when I was in great adversity, and the other, at a time of apparent prosperity. ^^ Coventry^ (Con.) 2^th Jan. 1783. " Rev. and vert dear sir, " Your late epistle came safe to hand > and while I was affected with pleasure in your kind remembrance of me, STEPHEN BURROUGHS. :y I was impressed with much sympathy and grief in the case of your dear and only son. The ways of divine Providence are a great deep ; what God does we " know not now, but shall know hereafter." St. Austin, when a youth, w:\s very vain, vicious, wild, and ungovernable : bis pious mother, Monica, was condnually in prayers and tears for him : an eminent Divine, one day, told her, that so many prayers would never be lost. You well know what God did for St. Austin, and what a blessing he was to the Church, and to the world. Let us submit, pray, hope and wait. '' We are in good health ; have no news more, perhaps, than what you have been acquainted with : the work of God has been considerable among us, and yet continues ; the effusion of the divine Spirit with you has been more copious ; Oh \ may it be on all the world, " as rivers in the wilderness, and as floods on the dry ground :" " I beg that my m-ost cordial regards, with ]Mrs. Hunt- ington's, may be acceptable to Mr. Burroughs and his lady. " Remaining as ever, dear sir, " With great respect, " Your most obedient humble servant, JOSEPH HUNTINGTON. Rev, Mr. Burroug«s." <' Coventry, (Con.) 23cl Oct. ITSi. '^ Rev. and vert dear sib, " Could you know the tender feelings of my heart to- ward you and your family, it would give me comfort ; my friendship is warm as ever, while I lament the separation made among your people, and mourn that we could not Worship together, when I last waited on you at Hanover. But as my 'prayers have been answered with regard to your son, so I believe they will be with respect to your people : you have now great comfort m the ibrmer, you will, I hope, soon have in the latte^' ; and the v.xiolc people shall unite and rejoice in your light, as in days past. " Mrs. Huntington uiiites with me in love and respect to Mr. Burroughs, lus lady and son. God Almighty, 26 MEMOIRS OF grant you eveiy New Covenant blessing. I have the hon- or to be, dear sir, with much respect, " Your most obedient, humble serv't, JOSEPH HUNTINGTON. Rev. Mr. Burroughs." CHAP. IV. ** In life's gay mom, what vivid hues " Adorn the animating views, " By flattering fancy drawn ? *' But storms with gloomy aspect rise, " To cloud the azure of the skies ; ** Now mists obscure the dawn." At commencement, 1781, 1 was presented, examined, and admitted a member of Dartmouth College. Here I had a new situation before me, and another part to act ; not possessing all the advantages to act it with eclat. The reports of my many wild eccentricities had come before me, magnified in a tenfold degree, and I found all were waiting with open mouths to see an explosion. Those, who were fond of such scenes of diversion, were disap- pointed at my neglect in exhibiting some specimens of lun, which I had determined to lay by entirely. Others, who were of a different cast, lowered upon me with a threatening brow, indicative of their intention to check my wildness in its first appearance. Here, I found my situation very different and disagree- able ; on the one hand, I was excited, invited and flattered to gratify those who were fond of amusement ; on the other, I was vratched, with the scrutinizing eye of jealou- sy, for misconduct, and a readiness to censure in me v,^hat Avould be thought innocent in others, to humble and check that growing propensity to disorder, as was alledged. My father was careful to have me take a room with one Jacob Wood, A. M. wiio, of all others, was best calculated to humble and mortify any, whom he entertained a suspicion agciinbi, as differing from him in principle or practice. A man of small stature, and yet smaller mental abilities ; rigid and enthusiastic in his notions of religion, which STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 27 consisted in a sour, morose, misanthropic line of conduct towards all who were not of his party. To be an inmate with such a character, you will readily conceive, no way comported with a disposition like mine ; and consequent- ly, we never enjoyed that union and harmony of feeliui^s in our intercourse, as room mates, which was necessary for the perfect enjoyment of social life. Possessing a mind very unstable, he was often out of humor, at his want of success, in making me submissive and humble to his caprice ; and being desirous of my sharing a part of hii chagrin, he assailed my ears with a perpetual stream of petulant crimiDations. He sought opportunities to mortify me before company, by representing me as a per- son inattentive to matters of religion, and consequcnth', wanting every virtue. This mode of procedure, I could not tamely dispense v/ith ; my invention was the only mean of resort for retaliation. One night, while he was paying his devoirs to a young- lady, word was brought him, that in a fit of the epilepsy, I was about expiring, and wished for him to perform the last kind oSce of a friend, to pray with, and for me. This was a business he always attended with great promptitude ; his Dulcinea being equally possessed with the laudable ambition of proselyting, agreed to accompany him to the room. But when they ca.me there, they found it empty of every living thing, and not even the appearance of any person's being there that night ; for the truth was, I had, the day preceding, obtained leave of absence, and was gone to my father's. This was readily understood as a pun upon his sacerdotal character, than which, nothing rould have wounded him more. His character, in that respect, he wished to have considered as sacred ; and to tritlc with that, was striking at the very root of all his sanctimonious self importance. He suspected me to be ■-.c author of this mortifying scene, and was unwearied in '.-J endeavors to gain some evidence of the fact; but ail his exertions were ineftectual. Notwithstanding all these singularities and eccentricities, I believe him to be a man oi rai honest heart, led to practice those ridiculous plaris by a misgukled zeal for religion. 28 MEMOIRS OF About this time, the Indians had made inroads upon some of the frontier settlements, aiid destroyed them. It ■vvas feared they would make a descent upon Hanover, and burn Dartmouth College, with the buildings ii? its vicinity ; and consequently, the minds of the people were full of fear, and easily aroused by an alarm of any kind. One evening, being in company with a number of others, we proposed and agreed, to make a visit to a yard of water- melons, belonging to a man in the vicinity, who kept them for sale, and help ourselves to some of them. We ac- cordingly put our plan in execution ; and went as far as the river, half a mile out of town, in order to eat them more securely. After we had finished our repast, every one took his own w^ay, in order to get to his room unper- ceived. I came directly into town, by the most obvious rout, in company with one Paine. When we had gotten to the green, around which the buildings stand, we discov- ered some person walking before ray door, suspecting, as I. supposed, my absence from my room; which being against the laws of College, at that time of night, would give him an opportunity, if he made the desired discove- ry, to involve me in difficulty. All these circumstances were very apparent to me, and therefore, I wished to avoid being kncv.n to him, as well as to avoid the discovery of the water-melons. We there- fore turned off another course, tlian directly to the Col- lege, and rolled our gowns close together, and tucked them up on our backs, so as to make the appearance of yncn with packs on their backs. This man, Higgins by name, seeing us by this time, came on towards us; we quickened our pace — ^.:c purs^ued us wiLli equal speed — we ran — he ran after us, and halloaed with all his might. 1 WIS now sensible, that an alarm would be made among the inhabitants, and of course, some immediate and de- cibive measures must be taken to prevent a diocovcry, or a suspicion of the water-melon l)usiness flUiing on me ; I therefore, turned a short coiner, where my pursuer lost sight of me, and ran directly back to the College, and got into my room undiscovered. Fortunately, my i-oom-mate was not at his lodgings this ni /ht. I heard an enquiry in the rooms adjoining respect- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 29 ingthe noise; I went into one of them, and fouiKi they Ave re abo\it staninj^ after Higgiiis^to learn the ditBciilty. We accordingly all started together, and after running about one hundred rods, came up to him, who was still hcillooing for help. On enquiry, he told us that he had discovered two men, carrying packs on their backs, lurking about the town, whom he supposed to be spies from the Indians, and that they had fled on discovering him. The tov.n was alarmed, the miiitia turned out ; the boats up and down the river were stopped ; the w^oods were scoured, br.t nothing found, nothing discovered ; all night, the fruit less search was continued.* About the dawn of day, the people returned, wxary and fatigued, into the town, and assembled for mutual consultation. Some thought one thing, some anoth- er. Some thought the whole difficulty began in noth- ing, and ended in the same. Some thought it a trick ci" the scholars to make themselves diversion. At the sug- gestion of this idea, one Capt. Storrs observed, that )ic sa.w Burroughs and Paine pass by his house, about six minutes before he heard the outcry. The name of Bur- roughs cast a suspicious appearance upon the business ; they all turned their eyes on me, as the author of this alarm and uproar. I cited those who ran from the Col- lege with me, on the first of the outcry, to vouch for my innocence ; they readily did it. All v/ere satisfied, on my account, except my good friend Mr. Wood. He rolled the eye of jealousy over the business — ^he was dissatisfied. He took Paine to a private room in the College, and there, by a reiterated course of flattery, threatening, terrors, and soothings, he obtained the mighty secret, as it related to me. I was immediately informed of the business, by a person wdiom 1 had placed in a room adjoining, to over- hear whatever should be the result of this conference. It was now about sunrise. I immediately went to the owner of the water-melons, and told him, that passing his yard last evening, after he was in bed, I had taken * This is too high colored. There was indeed an alarm, and tiie writer of this note was one of the pursuers ; but the fright did not continue all night, nor did the militia generally twin out, r "^ 50 jmemoirs of t Twelve of his water-melons, knowing he kept them fou Sile, and canne to let him know it, and \Ydy him for them. Aficr counting his water-melons, ana finding twelve taken, according to my account^ he took the pay, and gave me liis receipt. 1 now returned to my room, ready to meet -he heavy blow I saw was preparing against me. By this time it had taken air, that I was the author of last night's alarm. Every countenance was turned upon roe In an oblique direction. They had ail heard that theft was combined in the business; they had all determined I • iViUSt f.dl under this blow ; tberetore, they were wailing for the awful moment of my being summonec^, before the authority of College. Ten o'clock, the all tremendous hour arrived ! I appeared ; a number had gathered, which crowded the room. After the charge was read against me, Mr. Ripley, one of the Tutors, addressed me in a speech of half an hour's length, stating the enormous crime I had been guilty of, the course of iniquity I must have led through life, to be detected in such an attrocious high handed breach of law, at the age of sh^teen ; the disgrace i had brought on my family connexions, and the seminary cf which I was a member ; that my expulsion, which would undoubtedly succeed, would be but only a prelude to my punishment by the civil law ; that ruin and disgrace were the only effects, vrhich would fall on my devoted head. This rant I heard v,ith the coolness of a stoic. After he had talked himself out of breath, I had liberty to an- swer. I mentioned the hardness of my case, in being ac- cused, condemned and executed without any proof, or even being heard in my own defence. That I did not know what evidence they could produce of my being guilty of the crime laid to my charge, but whatever it was, I hop- ed to be sufficiently able to overtiuii its vali Jity, and clearly establish my innocence. At least, the humane language of candor taught us to hold every man innocent till he was proved guilty. True it was, I had taken water-melons from Mr. Smith the night preceding, but had early that morning informed him of the fact, and paid for them. This information was like a thunder-clap to some of the spectators. All their hopes of seeing ruin fall heavy on my head vrere now quashed in the twinkling of an eye. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 51 Mr. Smith, the owner of the water-meloDs, havin.:^ been sent for, testified to all the facts which I had stated ; and of coarse, here the business ended. My father consented for my removal from the room where I had lived. I accordingly chan::jed my lodgings, to my no small satisfaction. During the succeeding vaca- tion, my father, attentive to his wonted humanity, took a class-mate of mine, by the name of Coffin, home to his house, whose pecuniary circumstances were difficult, and gave him his board and tuition, gratis. He likewise sup- plied Coffin with provisions for his subsistance for the next winter, on condition of his paying for them afterwards, at a time he himself had fixed, as being most convenient. The time being elapsed, I asked Coffin for the money, ac- cording to his promise, in behalf of my father, in order to answer some small engagements which I was under for the payment of money. He paid but little attention to my request ; I repeated it a number of times afterwards, but without effect. At length Coffin told me plainly, he had no intention of paying the debt ; stating the difference be- tween his and my father's circumstances ; that my father was better able to do without it than he was to pay it. I remonstrated in warm terms on the unreasonableness of his conduct. This brought about a violent resentment on his side, which he never failed to shew when he had an opportunity. He united himself und^r the banner of my friend Wood, in order to increase their strength by union. Mr. Ripley, the Tutor, was likewise disaffected^- not only by the chagrin of being found to be a false preacher, when he was on the subject of the water-melons, but likewise on account of a violent antipathy and resentment against my father, owing to their disagreeing in sentiment with regard to the management of certain religious matters ; and therefore vras determined, according to the good old rule, " to visit the iniquities of the fathers on the children.'* He, uniting his force with those above mentioned, formed a powerful triumvirate against me.* * It is justly due to the memory of Professor Ripley, to acquit his character of such an unmerited aspersion. I do not accuse tlie autlior of falsehood. Ke imdoubtedly considered this gentleman as his enerr^y ; but it is believed that nothing- could be more err> 2 MEMOIRS OF About this time the President of the College left here, irjtending a tour to Europe. The Tutors now becarae the only executive authority of the College. My friend Rip- ley was the second in standing, and consequently a great degree of influence fell into his hands. This influence he was careful to exercise on every occasion. On a certain day of the week, when my class were called upon to de- claim, I did not attend ; the reason of my absence was ow- ing to this circumstance. I ^ad sent my shoes to the shoe- maker, and contrary to my expectation, they had not yet returned, and I had not shoes decent for my appearance abroad. Mr. Ripley sent for me to appear, and perform my part of the exercises of the day ; the excuse, which existed, I sent him, but the messenger returned with pos- itive orders for m.e to attend. I attended with such shoes as I had, mounted the stage, and declaimed. I made my obeisance, and retired. He called to me, and publicly reprimanded me for appearing in such habiliment. At a certain time he made a request to my class to assist him in a certain piece of business, which he was desirous of performing one afternoon. I turned out to assist him. We were detained till ten o'clock at night. The next morn- ing I was absent from recitation. He sent forme — I came — He again reprimanded me for being deficient in my classic lesson, though he knew the cause was my perform- ing service for him at his request. Finding matters thus disagreeably situated, I determined to quit that ground which I could not maintain with any probability of success. I accordingly left College, and went to my father's. CHAP. V. " And thus my days in one sad tenor run, " And end hi sorrow, as they fii'st be gam.'* X O remain an inactive member of society was far from my desire ; various plans were proposed by my father for neous. !Mr. Ripley labored with young Bmroughs, as a tender father with. his child, to dissuade him from his vicious courses ; but, imfortunatcly, the latter considered all his exertions a,s the ef- fect only of personal prejudice. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 33 tny entering into business, or at least, preparing myself for it, but none appeared so eligible as going to sea ; there- fore, it was determined for me to bend my course that way. My father fitted me out with a horse, saddle, bridle, and about twenty dollars in money, and let me loose upon the broad theatre of the world, to act my part according to my abilities. The want of experience and a natural hasty temper, prone to inconsiderate actions, augured no very favorable prospects before me. I had been t mem.ber of the seminary of Dartmouth College sufficiently long, to be filled with that sort of learn- ing which gave me an exalted idea of my own importance, and which was of no manner of use, in my pursuits through life. This may appear strange, that I should spend three years in gaining that, which was good for nothing. Hov/- ever strange it may seem to you, sir, yet it is a fact. One year, I was studying to prepare myself for admittance into that seminary, where I spent two in learning nothing, or that which amounted to the same in the end. Perhaps you may think I entertain an opinion of this College as being, in point of usefulness, much below the other Universities on the continent ; but this is not the ccise. It is a melancholy consideration, that our youth should spend so much time in acquiring that knowledge,* which is of no use to themselves or to the community, of which they are members. To acquire an accurate knowl- edge of the dead languages, seven years is a short time ; and after this is effected, to what does it amount ? Does it give bread to the persons possessing it, or does it serve to enlighten, enrich, or render more happy any part of the comm.unity ? I contend, that the person who has learned to make a shoe, does more good to society, than he wh.o hi s spent seven years in acquiring a knowledge of the dead langu^xges. If this position is founded in truth, then this consequence will follow, that more than one half of the time spent at the Universities, according to their present establishment on this continent, is throv/n away ; and that the position is founded in fact, I will endeavor to prove.* It is not stran,g:e the author should rccason in this murmer. He was expelled College in the second quarter of his second year ; and it is ii f'lct, he studied but very little" v.hile he vras a member. 34 MEMOIRS OF The happiness of ourselves, together with the good of society, is the governing pursuit of every valuable member of community ; therefore, whatever conduces to this end, is the only object v/orthy of attention. ! he good of socie- ty may be comprised in these three points, viz. 1st. To obtain wh:it is necessary to supply the calls of nature, by the least painful measures. 2d. Rules for the regulation of mankind, in their relative situation, which, in their op- eration, will tend to harmonize the conduct of the whole towards individuals. 3d. A supply of food for the mental part of creation ; for the mental part requires a certain supply, in order to render us sensibly happy, as well as the corporeal. x>Iankind, in their present state of exist- ence, find it necessary to submit to the pain of labor, in or- der to protect themselves from the cries of hunger and thirst, from the inclemency of the climates and seasons, and from the unjust encroachments upon their industrious acquisitions and natural rights. These are the first objects Avhich mankind find themselves under the necessity of attending to ; hence, we find the most savage and barbar- ous nations occupied in these pursuits. Nations that have made no improvements in useful knowledge, are subject to the greatest degree of pain, in supplying the simple calls of nature. The precarious effects of the chase are the most general supplies to the calls of hunger with them, and as that is a resource of so doubtful a nature, those peo- ple often suffer the pain of hunger unsatisfied ; therefore, no wonder we find the inventor of the plow immortalized and deified, because the good which he had done to man- kind was so essentially felt and known. They then saw the imcertainty of a support changed into a certainty ; that they now were able to provide for themselves and fami- lies, and consequently, the different sexes could enter in- to that connexion, which contributed greatly to increase the happiness of society, without the danger of seeing their tender offspring perish miserably for the want of suste- nance. This object occupies the feelings of mankind now, as it has done heretofore. Tliey find the same necessity for a support for themselves and offspring ; >nd consequently, those acquirements, which serve to STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 35 render men able to procure a support, in an easy and cer- tain way, are now the most essential to the good of socie- ty. That learning the dead languages has no direct or indirect tendency to this acquirement is a truth so ol3vi- ous, that more need not be said on the subject ; therefore, with regard to the usefulness of this species of knowledge, in the first and most essential pursuit of mankind, we find that it is not founded in fact. The second most important object, for the good of so- ciety, is those rules for the regulation of mankind in their relative situation, which, in their operation, will tend to harmonize the conduct of mankind towards each other. Legislation is a subject, perhaps, of all others, the most difficult to bring to perfection, so as to have a thorough understanding of its nature and operation. It has been the study of the greatest men in all ages, since society has been formed ; and yet, much is to be learned on this sub- ject. To understand the operations of the human heart, so as to adopt rules for the regulation of man, in his conduct towards his fellow members of society, in such a manner as to render those rules easy and acceptable to all, and under which, all will enjoy the blessings of society unin- terrupted, is an object of such magnitude and importance, that every breast, possessing the principles of philanthro- py, must be fired with ardor in the investigation. As far as mankind deviate from such a government, so far they are politically unhappy, and in as great a degree as they approximate to this golden age, not of poetic fiction, but of reality, so far they approach towards real political perfection. What a perversion of the talents and time of our youth, whom we intend for public employments I to keep them tied down to the study of the uninteresting and unessential branches of the Latin, Greek, and Hebrew languages, the greater part of their continuance at the University, to the utter neglect of political knowledge \ I am bold to affirm, that not one to twenty of those who are dubbed with the title of a. b. or a. m. understand that con- stitution or form of government under which they live. Will not the mind of sensibility C17 out with the orator, on another occasion ? ** O, the times I O, the manners V* 36 MEMOIRS OF The last object of attention, though not less interesting, is a supply of fcod for the mental part of creation. The mind of man is made capable of greater enjoyment than what barely relates to the senses. The system of morali- ty and philosophy are what I mean to be understood as food for the mind, or mental part of creation. When the mind of man becomes disengaged from the primary ob- jects of nature's call, it then mounts to things of greater magnitude than what barely relate to itself; it views crea- tion, the works of providence, and the end to which all these things point. The doctrine of right and wrong, or in other words, virtue and vice, is a subject which supplies food for the mind, or which gives the highest polish to the happiness which it enjoys. When we vie"w the curious order of nature, and see that all things are governed by fixed and unalterable laws, which once discovered, lead to a knowledge of future events and useful improvements ; that the parent of nature has carefully and curiously pro- vided for all his children, even to the minutest insect, we cannot but be filled with that delight at viewing the fitness of things, which no other subject can create. I will con- tend, that more satisfaction is enjoyed in viewing the ope- ration of nature on a single kernel of wheat, after it is committed to the ground, and there is more usefulness in that contemplation, than in the study of the dead languages through life. Can a knowledge of these languages help a person in the investigation of ethics, philosophy, or mo- rality ? I am aware it will be said, that to read the scriptures in the original tongues will enable a person to understand them much better, than to be able to read the translations only ; and therefore, it is necessaiy that all who intend the study of divinity as their pursuit, should be acquainted with these languages. Happy would it have been for man- kind had these effects followed : but, the truth is far oth- erwise. We find the Christian world broken into parties and factions by those very characters who have been en- abled to read the scriptures in the original ; and much greater disagreement has happened in the interpretation, than what has been among those v/ho can read the trc^r'^la- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 37 iion only ; and even in this enlightened age, when so ma- ny are favored with this great privilege, we do not find a more general agreement respecting the doctrines of scripture. I appeal to your own observations, whether I have not stated matters of fact, as they exist, without miscolorhig or exaggeration, in respect to the study of the dead lan- guages. Then the greater part of the time si>ent at Uni- versities amounts to nothing, or what is vrorse. It habitu- ates the mind to a system of error, and puts it upon the pursuit of wroijg objects, and of course it becomes difficult to break those chains of habit which education has forged. Look around on mankind ; do we see any of those lumi- naries, who have been granted to the world as Heaven's richest boon, from among our collegiate characters ? On the contrary, a Washington, a Franklin, a Rittenhouse, have shone resplendent, without the borrowed rays of a College. We are prone to form a Avrong estimate of edu- cation, perhaps, more than of any other object of our at- tention. When a youth has spent four years at a Univer- sity, and has gone the common round of establishing a character for ability, by stealing water-melons, robbing hen-roosts, geese-houses. Sec. and playing tricks upon the inhabitants' cows and horses, and can speak a number of sentences which others do not understand, his fond mother looks at him with a pleasing significance, and tells her in- quisitive neighbors, that her son has got to be a man cf science, and in order to establish her doctrine recounts all the manoeuvres he has practiced at College, in order to get a hen out of the roost. The father thinks these are marks of greatness of mind and depth of knov/ledge, and from these evidences, forms the most pleasing expect^.- tions of his son's future greatness. These anecdotes are recounted by the neighboi^ to their families, through a long course of succeeding winter evenings' amusements. They drink deeply at this fountain of entertainment. When they hear of the foolish pranks of scholars, they are exhilirated at the recital ; they dv.eil upon them with pleasure, and behold the performers with admiration. Whereas, let it be said, that such or such persons have D Se MEMOIRS OF outstripped their felloAvs in depth of thought, or perspi- cuity of reasoning and invention, the tale becomes lifeless, and is soon forgotten. Our youth, possessing the ambition of becoming famous, strike out into that road which the unaccountable prejudi- ces of mankind have marked for them. They wish to start into notice, and will most assuredly adopt such mea- sures, as they see have brought others forward into public esteem. I believe, sir, you will be heartily tired with my digressions, before I get through my tedious narration ; but I ask for that exercise of patience, towards my weak- ness, which I know your generosity will grant. My feel- ings arc so warmly interested in the ideas which some of my observations communicate, that I cannot suppress them, without doing great violence to my mind. But to return to the narrative. I left my father'*s house, about the 20th of November, at the age of seventeen, and directed my course for New- buryport, a small seaport town in the state of Massachu- setts, where they fitted out many small vessels for priva- teering. After I had travelled the chief of the day, I entered into the woods about sunset. Being unacquainted \vith the way, I was not av/are of riding more than a mile or two, at farthest, before I should come to inhabitants ; but to my surprise, I continued my course till it became quite dark, without discovering any traces of human be- kigs, except the road 1 Avas travelling. It began to snow violently, and the night was extremely dark. I suddenly found myself against a team and waggon, containing a family moving into the country. After enquiring the dis- tance through to inhabitants, and the nature of the road, I found I had got the greatest part of the night's work be- fore me. I accordingly quickened my pace, and waded through the snow, which by this time had becom.e pretty deep, with all the exertion in my power. My horse, which had not been refreshed since I left home, now became fa- tip-ued ; alighting, I drove him before me, till I became weary with travelUng myself; and tlren mounted again. I pursued such measures alternately, till about twelve at iiieht, v. hen I espied a light, at a little distance before me. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 39 A person, who has been in a similar situation, will read- ily conceive the nature of my feelings at this time. The sight of this illumination, through a small cranny of an old log hut, was attended with those effusions of pleasure, which the miser never feels when hoarding up his trea- sures. Entering the building from which the light pro- ceeded, I found it a hut, made in that rude state, which did not admit of the polish of art. Logs cut from the forest were laid on the top of each other, to the height of eight feet, when a ix)cf was added, the rafters of the same mate- rials, covered with the barks of trees. This building was' about twenty feet square ; a large fire being built in the midst, the family lay around it on the ground. The whole group presented a subject fit for tlie pencil of Hogarth. Inquiring how far it was to a public inn, I was iniormed, that one was kept there. Necessity constrained me to accept of those accommodations, for the want of better. Some refreshment for my horse being obtained, I was conducted to a bed kept for travellers, as the best piece of furniture in the house. Nature was too much fatigued to hold a parley with inconveniences. I soon fell into a pro- fcimd sleep, which continued, I suppose, about tv.-o hours, when I awoke. By the complaints which my bones ut- ered, I was jealous my bed was not made of down. I arose, called for my horse, and after travelling five miles ftirther, ever a bad road, I came to a tavern, where accom- modations were to be had for man and horse. I enjoyed myself in this situation much better, since my other en- tertainment had been so disagreeable. I stayed at this house until noon ; when I found myself refreshed with food and sleep, I again pursued my journey. The next day, I arrived at a town called Londonderry, where the father of a class-mate of mine lived, on whom I called, and to my great satisfaction, found the son at his father's. I told them my intention of going to sea, and the reason why I had left College. They tried to persuade me to relin- quish my purpose, but when they found me fixed, the okl gentleman wrote to some of his acquaintance in Newbu- ry port, to befriend me in my pursuit. 40 MEMOIRS OF Intending to sell my horse, saddle and bridle^ and with the avails to prepare myself for sea, I here found the mark- et for horses so low, that a sale for him would not be easily obtained, without great loss ; I therefore concluded to send my horse back to my father. I arrived at Newbury- port and delivered my letter of introduction to Capt. M'- Hurd, to whom it was addressed. This man kept a house for boarders and lodgers ; I accordingly put up with him. Not finding any privateers going to sea soon, I concluded to go in a packet, which had a letter of marque, to France. Having no doctor engaged, I undertook to act in that ca- pacity ; and after obtaining the assistance, advice and di- rection of an old practitioner in physic, together with marks set on each parcel of medicine, I thought myself tolerably well qualified to perform the office of a physici- an on board the ship. We did not sail till the first day of January, 1783. When I lost sight of America, I cannot say but what my feelings were more disagreeably affected than I expected. Those attachments which we form in childhood, to places, to persons and things, are pretty strong, I believe, in the minds of all ; and none can give them up without a struggle. Soon after we had lost sight of land, I began to grow in- tolerably sea-sick, which continued without intermission for four days. This is a species of sickness, though not dangerous, yet as disagreeable to bear as the most violent disorder to which the human constitution is subject. This served, in a great measure, to cool my ardor for spending my days on the salt water. On the fifth day I began to feel more at ease ; the motion of the vessel was not so irk- some ; my appetite began to recover, which before was quite gone, We made the island of Sable, lying in 4-5^ north latitude, where we went on shore. This island is a dreary barren place, about thirty miles in length. Some wild horses and hogs were placed on this spot, for the sup- port of seamen who might be cast away. Accidents of this kind being very common here, on account of the shoals extending from its shores at a great distance into the sea. Here was likewise a small hut, a porridge pot, ?nd fire -wood, flint and tinder-box. Here, the sailors re- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 1 1 counted many circumstances of the marvellous, represent.- ing this as the abode of spirits, hobgoblins, £^c. They af- firmed with much positive assuriince, that many famiiies had attempted living here, induced by great rewards from government, but all their attempts were in vain, owing to sights and noises, which had disturbed them.. It was said that this island, in time of an easterly storm, would shake with great violence, which I was rather induced to be- lieve, because a natural reason can be assigned for this phenomenon. Leaving this place, we proceeded on our voyage, till the eighth day of our departure, when, about 10 o'clock in the morning, the man at the mast head cried out, a sail 1 a s£.il was discovered a head ; we hove to, in order to see which way she was going. We soon found her making from us with all her force. We put about and made sail after her, till about sunset. We found her a merchant's brig from New-York, bound to London, with pearl-ash, commanded by one Pratt. After v/e had man- ned our prize, we pursued our rout, vvithout any matciial occurrence, till the twenty-third. About 1 1 o'clock in the morning, we espied a sail astern, v/hich we soon saw was in pursuit of us ; we made all the sail we could, to run from her, and found she carried to it (a sea term for not taking in sail) through some pretty severe squalls. We lost sight of her about sunset : we made an island on the coast of France, pronounced in the French language, Graw — how they spell it, I do not re- collect. We came to under this island, and fired for a pilot One soon came off to us : about I o'clock at night, we got under way again. This pilot Vvas the first person I ever saw wearing wooden shoes ; his dress and appear- ance were miserable ; the use of the knife and fork was unknown to him. He was invited into the cainn, and vic- tuals set before him ; he felt himself in such an awkward situation, that, instead of eating, he fihed his pockets v.itli hard bread, and went on deck. This is the situation of the peasantry, though not in quite so deplorable a condi- tion, through France, so far as I had opportunity of ob- serving. About 10 o'clock the next morning, we made Bjellisle, and soon after, saw a sail st-\nding for us, rio-hr D 2 4 3 MEMOIRS OF R-hcad. We thought her the same that pursued us the day prccedinp; ; she proved to be the same. She >vas a Ltij^i^er, carryinp^ 12 six pounders, and was chasini^ a brig moiintiii£^ 6 guns. We soon passed the brig, and speak- in,^ with her, found her from Boston, bound to Nantz. We entreated her to put about with us, and look at the Lug- gei*, which, by this time, \vas hove to, waiting for us. All our entreaties were in vain ^ she ran in under the fort of Bellisle. We carried 18 guns, but unfortunately, ten of thern were wood, so that little advantage could be expect- ed from them. We hauled up our courses, put up our boarding netting, cleared our decks, lit our matches, and made all ready for action. We bad on board twenty-one men besides the prisoners. The thirteen stripes of the United States wxre flying ; but the Lugger, as yet, shew- ed no colors. We came so near as to hail — she answer- ed in French — and after understanding we came from A- inerica and were bound to Nantz, she offered us a pilot, and when we told them vve had a pilot already on board, she affected net to understand, but made towards us with a pretended design of accommodating us with a pilot. Not more than ten men were to be seen on her deck. By this time., she was sufficiently near to discover those on board by their countenances. Mr. Severe, our first mate^ Imcw the commander of the Lugger to be a man from the isle of Jersey, having been taken by him the preceding year. The mate vociferated like a stentor, " give them a gun ! give them a gun 1" We fired, but so strongly pre- possessed were the gunners, that the Lu;^gei' was a French- man, that they pointed over her, and did her no damage. She ported her helm, and fell astern as much as half a mile, expecting that we fought with 18 guns. We kept on our course — seeing this, she made all the sail possible after us, hung out the English colors, and her deck be- came instantly filled with men. She first came up on our windv/ard board, but now altered her intention, and came round on our lee-side. We began to fire stern chases dt- them, and they returned our salute with bow chases. While Mr. Severe was elevating the gun at our bow he received a swivel ball, rvhich carried away his right cheek?. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 43 went through and broke his right aiTn,and two of his ribs. We caught him up, and carried him into the cock-pit, where I dressed his wounds, and at the desire of one Boot- man, a passenger, left Mr. Severe in his care, and relu'-n- ed on deck. Our ship was thinly manned, and the help of every hand w^as felt. A chest of loaded small arms stood on the quarter deck, where I took my station. The Lugger, by this time, was grappled to our ship, and at- tempted sword in hand to cut away our hoarding nettings. Every man was ordered to his boarding pike, and for ten minutes, the conflict was truly sharp, but the issue was in our favor. They retreated on board their own vessel, the guns were their next resort. With cannon and small arms they poured in upon us a shower of balls, and we en- deavored to puy them in like kind, to the full amount of our receipt, so that a balance should be left in our favor, and not against us. The captain and myself had fired neurly ull the small arms which were loaded. The com- mander of the Lugger kept bellowing from his quarter deck, that if we did not strike, he would give us no quar- ter. I took a blunderbuss, which remained loaded, and taking aim very leisurely, at the mouth of his trumpet, let fly. I believe this did his business ; at least, I heard no more of this bravado. Twice more did they attempt to cutaway our boarding nettings, but, to as little effect as at first. We by this time, had disabled their fore-top -mast, and carried away their gib-boom. They cut from us, and made all the sail possible towards the Penmarks, which were hidden and dangerous rocks, lying under water, where they expected wc should not follow them. In this conjecture they were right. We arrived the same day in Khe river Loire, and came to an anchor at a town called Penbeef, thirty miles below the city of Nantz. The next day I went up to the city, and took lodgings at one mad- ame M. Harty's, a house of general resort for the Ameri- cans. To undertake a particular description of the places through which I went, will be less interesting than the accounts of travellers of more observation; being tco young, at that time, to make those remarks, which would serve to throv»^ any light upon your previous knowledge cf those pir.ces. by the information of other authors. . 44 MEMOIRS OF Soon after my arrival, I had an advantageous offer of going as Doctor's second mate in a ship bound to the East- Indies. I accepted of the offer, and was preparing to go ; but the ship, which lay at Penrine, ten miles below Pen- beef, had order suddenly to sail, and so left me behind. We received our dividend of the prize money, which was 42 guineas each. Being possest with so much money, and some time on hand, I determined to take a short ex- cursion through the country, in order to see what of France my finances would admit. I accordingly set out, with two more Americans, for Angers, from thence to Brest, from there to L'Orient, and then back to Nantz. I r/as absent on this excursion about three weeks, if I re- memberx right. As nothing more occurred than what happens to travellers generally, I shall not take up your time in giving you the uninteresting detail. When I returned to our ship, I found some alterations had taken place in my absence, which proved a source of the utmost mortification to me afterwards. The prize brig had been bought by the Captain, and fitted out for Lisbon ; on board of which went the first mate as com- mander, and one Kenne was engaged to succeed him in our ship. The third mate supposed this, by the right of succession, belonged to him, and accordingly, desired me to write to the Captain, who was at Nantz, in his behalf. I did according to his desire, which I was induced to do by the drunken irregular conduct of Kenne, who had dis- gusted the whole crew, he having proved a worthless wretch. This act of mine was the cause of a mortal en- mity towards me, which he was but too successful in shev/- ing. When the Captain came on board, I found his feel- ings were cooled towards me. However, no open breach as yet took place. We sailed for America some time in April, and being becalmed off the western isles, we went on shore at St. Michaels ; when we came on shore, we saw a great concourse of people about half a mile distant. Our curiosity led us to see what was the occasion of this assemblage : when we came to the spot we found a Ne- gro bound to a cannon, and a man standing by with a stake in his hand, sharpened atone end. , The people were For- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 4o tugucse, and consequently, we could not understand theif lanp^uage, nor learn the occasion of what we saAv, only from conjecture. The Negro appeared to be in great distress, with fearful apprehensions. The dreadful operation of empaling soon began, which consisted in driving the stake through his body, from one end to the other, till it came out a little above his shoulders. The agonies, which he manifested by writhings and hedious yells, had such an ef- fect on my mind, that I almost fainted. The wind breez- ing up, we soon returned on board, to my great satisfac- tion. I could not, for a number of days, get the scene of this horrid action out of my mind ; and even now, sir, ray blood recoils with horror at the recollection I What strange infatuation ! That man, who is placed in this state of dependence, instead of granting that help which the voice of nature calls for, should exert his power to make a fellow creature more miserable, than to be left to the savage beasts of prey. We sailed from hence, and I soon began to peceive that Kenne was intriguing against me, by holding conferences often with Jack, the cabin boy. One day it was said, that wine had been clandestinely handed out of the cabin to tvv'o men, who appeared to be drunk. I was ordered, in a vei y peremptory manner, to leave the cabin, and remove my chest into the forepeak. I moved according to order, but you can scarce conceive the emotions of my mind on the occasion. No reasons were offered for this order. The conduct of the Captain before, had been of such a nature as to gain my warmest esteem. I felt those emo- tions of friendship for him which would hate carried me almost any length to serve him. To receive this treatment from him, and, as I suppos- ed, by the influence of a low, dirty scoundrel, added a poig- nancy to the sting of disappointment, which is more easily conceived by a mind of sensibility than language can de- scribe. For the Captain to suppose it possible, that I could be actuated by so base a motive, as to hand his wine clandestinely to any of the crew, was a sacrilegious profa- nation of the feelings of my heart. 46 MEMOIRS OF * All intercourse between the Captain and myself V^'as at an end. I often had visits from Kenne, who, in the most arrogant, insulting manner, triumphed over me ; and it was well for him that I was sick with the small-pox at this lime. About the time I was recovering from this disor- der, I fouod by the noise, that a number of the crew was drunk on deck. The Captain came down into the fore- peak, and clapped me into irons ; being in a great passion, he accused me of breaking open a box of wine and giving it to the men, in order to revenge the affront of being turn- ed out of the cabin. I endeavored to expostulate, but in the room of being heard, I received a brutal kick on my head. All this did not wean my affection from the Cap- tain. I considered him a dupe lo the low intrigues of those wretches who were unworthy his notice. We arrived at Newburyport, where I left the ship, and put up at a boarding house. Here I remained three days, about entering on board of a sloop bound to the West-In- dies. I had removed all my things out of the ship, and had no further communication with any one belonging to her. I intended a further investigation of the treatment I had received. While I was contemplating these circum- stances, I was arrested in the street, and carried before a justice of the peace, and there found to my surprise, the cabin boy, Kenne, and an Irishman, who testified that one Bradley, who had before run away, and could not be found, told them that I gave him wine out of the cabin ; that af- terwards, I broke open a chest of wine, and handed him the bottles ; and likewise broke open a bale of silk, and hid one piece of it ; all which was done through a revenge- ful disposition. Something worth observing took place on their side, viz. Kenne and the cabin-boy were those, who made the discovery of the wine box being broken open ; of the silk bale being broken, and the place in which the piece of silk was hid ; it being where no man would have mistrusted, Avho did not know beforehand : it was concealed in a cask, once in my use. Kenne was the man who informed the Captain, that the wine was gone out of the cabin ; and as he was half drunk the greater part of the time, from his first coming on board till we STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 47 arrived, I never doubted in my own mind, what became of the wine. And as for Bradley's tellifig the story, which they related, I knew it was false, unless it was done by a preconcerted plan. However, I was committed to jail, where I lay some time, how long I do not remember, and ■was then turned out in a manner as unaccountable.* By this time all my money and clothes were gone I know not where ; I never saw them more. The assis- tance of my friend Ripley was not wanting to embellish this scene, who was in Newburyport at this time. My sit- uation did not aiford me the opportunity of calling those to a legal account, who had confined me, contrary to law, and dismissed me in such a clandestine manner. I re- turned to my father*s, sunken and discouraged ; the world appeared a gloomy chaos ; the sun arose to cast a sickly glimmer on surrounding objects; the flowers of the field insulted my feelings with their gaiety and splendor ; the Irolicksome lamb, the playful kitten, and the antic colt, were beheld with those painful emotions, which are be- yond description. Shall all nature, said I, smile with joy ; shall the brute creation break out into irregular trans- ports, by the overflowings of pleasing sensations, whilst I am shut out from even the dim rays of hope ? The com- parison between my situation, and that of the rest of intel- ligent nature, was so much against me, that I could not bear the ideas which this brought into view, without groan- ing with pain, under the pressure of the load. Those who had before pursued me, with their unabat- ing enmity, proclaimed their triumph. I found a censo- rious world little desirous of inquiring into circumstances. It was sufficient for them to have such facts, as served to raise a slanderous report ; and they felt easy, ^vithout giv- ing themselves the trouble of inquiring into the causes, why those facts existed, and the circumstances attending them. * The writer of this saw the author at Newbur^-port, at this period. The Captain, after reading- the memoirs, told the wTiter, tliat Burroug-hs had given a much more correct history of the voy- age to and from France, than he was capable of doing himself ; and that he was pretty well convinced Kenne was the rogue. 48 MEMOIRS OF CHAP. VI. Descend, bland Pity, from thy native sky. Come with thy moving plaint and melting eye. After I had remained at my father's house about one year, without attending to any kind of business, I conclud- ed, from what reason I was capable of exercising, that it ill became me, as a man, to remain thus inattentive and useless. I determined to enter into business of some kind ; and as a school was the only employment which im- mediately offered, I entered into that calling. At a town called Haverhill, thirty miles from Hanover, I engaged to teach an English school for four months. No sooner was I seated in the business here, than I found my friend Rip- ley busy in his endeavors to throw me out of employment. He came to Haverhill, and in that plausible manner, of which he was master, stated the evil consequences of con- tinuing me in that business. The base examples I should set before the children who attended my school j and al- though I did veiy well now, yet, notwithstanding my sub- tilty to conceal my disposition? I should, ere long, do some- thing that would make them repent of their credulity, and expose myself to their universal censure. His represen- tation had but too much effect on the people. He was a clergyman, and consequently must speak the truth. They were afraid — they kept their children chiefly at home, for fear of some terrible explosion, which had been foretold by their spiritual leader. With indignation I quitted them and the school. I then took a school in a town called Orford, eighteen miles below Haverhill, and twelve miles from Hanover. Fortunately lor me, I had kept this school long enough to get established, before Mr. R — y knew where I was, and of course, his efforts for my overthrow here were ineffec- tual. I continued this school until the expiration of the time agreed for, to the universal satisfaction of all coiv- cemed. I began this school in November, and ended with the month of February. The usual time for schooling, in all the towns through the eastern states, is only in the v, in- ter, some few populous towns excepted. STEPHEN BURRCyGHS. 49 Whilst I taught this school, I became acquainted with a woman, who was suppoBcd to be a widow, possessinc; those amiable qualifications calculated to attract the atten- tion of every admirer of the fair part of icreation. I paid strict attention to g-ain her affections, and flattered myself I had in a measure succeeded. After the school vvas end- ed, I returned to my father's. I had not been long with my father, before I had a visit from Joseph Hunlington, who was a member of Dartmouth College. He came in a sleigh, and brought a class-mate, who w?.s of that pe- culiar turn of mind, as to be a butt for the ridicule of all the wits in College ; and it was certain, he would be lead into all the scrapes then in vogue. Hunti'H ton proposed to me to take a ride that evening in his sleigh, telling me at the same time, he had brought A with him to steal a bee-hive. For the diversion of drawing A into a ludicrous situation, I iminediately consented to be one of the party. We accordingly all got into the slei:^h, and drove away alrut two miles, when, coming near where bees were kept, we sent A after them, who was ever prompt to do what he was set about by any one. He soon returned with a hive to the sieigh, when we drove off with great speed to the College, where I foun-J a number as- sembled, ready to partuke of the repast which the iioney aiforded. All were regaled with this delicious morsel but myself, having an insuperable antipathy to honey, which wholly incapacitates me from ever making use of it. I am now, sir, at a place in my narrative which has caused me pain in relating, because I view my conduct en- tirely wrong, and my mode of reasoning upon such- sub- jects, at that age, quite lidicuious. For some unaccoun- table reason or other, youth are carried away vrith false* notions of right and wrong. I know, for instance, that Huntington possessed those principles of integrity, that no consideration v/ould have induced him to deprive anoth- er, by stealth, of any species of property, except fruit, bees, pigs, and poultiy. And why ii is considered by youth gei> erally, that depriving another of those articles is less crim- inal, than stealing any other kird of property- I cannot tell ; but it is a fact, that almost all do esteem this so ; and 50 MEMOIRS OF robbing others of those articles is thought to be only the playfuL^vantonness of thoughtless inexperience. I will ask you, sir, whether our treatment of those things does not give too much reason to convince youth, that we view them in that light ourselves. We parted at 1 1 o'clock that evening, and I returned home. The man who lost the bees, suspected the schol- ars as the authors of this depredation, and accordingly, went to the governors to enter his cornplcdnt. Search was made, and by the inattention of A , a discovery was effected. It was found, likewise, in the discovery, that I was of the party. This was a fine bone for my friend R — y tp pick. He did not fail to fulfil the office of a clergyman, by setting his face against iniquity. He v/as determined I should be made a public example. After Huntington and A had settled with the owner of the bees, R — y represented S) him the necessity of not mak- ing any settlement with me, but prosecute in tiie law, and there have it terminate. Coffin v/as ready to back this re- presentation with all his oratory. They succeeded ; I was informed into the circumstance^; and as another circum- stance had now taV;en place, which co-operated with this, it is necessary I should go back a little in my narrative, and bring forv/ard this event to the present time. The lady, of whom mention has been made, and who was sup- posed to be a widow, I slill addressed on the terms of courtship : matters between us had proceeded to consid- erable length. I went to visit her one day, after 1 had left Orford, and coming to a neighboi' of her's about six rods dibtant, I saw a man standing in the door of her house, a stranger, whom I never before saw ; and upon inquiring V. ho he was, received information that her husband was alive, and had come home. This intelligence was like heavenV artillery, charged with tenfold vim. The wheels of nature ran backward I The blood curdled in my veins, and I fell almost senseless into a chair 1 I was aroused from tliis stupor, by female shrieks ! Howlings of bitter lamentation assailed my ears *********** God of nature I what greater scenes of distress urc reserved in :^ STEPHEN BURROUGHS. ^ I store ? What sharper arrows vet remain in thy quiver ? ************ *'* *********** May Ihide myself-vvith a mantle of darkness, and retire from the stage of action, into eternal obscurity. CHAP. VII. " Fir'd is the muse ? And let the muse be fir' J, " Who not inflamM, when what he speuks, he feels ." V ? EARY ^vith life, I returned to my father's, made iome small arrangements, and left the country. One pis' tareen was all the ready cash I had on hand, and the sud- denness with Y.'hich I departed, deprived me of a chance to raise more. Travelling on leisurely, I had time for reflection. ^Vhat, said I, again an outcast amt5ng man- kind ? Where am I going ? What can I do with myself in this world, where I meet with nothing but disappoint- ment and chagrin ? True it is, I am an outcast, but who cares for that ? If I will not use means for my own pres- ervation and prosperity, what am I to expect ? Is it to be supposed that whining over misfortunes is calculated to make them better ? No., by no means. Then arouse, said I, for shame ; usqisuch means as you have in your power. The greater embarrassments, the more honor in over- coming them ; lay aside the idea of being any longer a child, and become a man. If others endeavor to throw obstacles in the way of your prosperity, show them that you can rise above them. This dialogue with myself was productive of the most - py effects ; I began to look about me, to see what was :;3 done in my present situation, to what business I could ■/■A my attention. The practice of Law. which would have been most to , mind, I could not undertake, until I had spent some le in the study, which Avouid be attended with expense . beyond n.y abilities ; therefore, this object must be ,uid a^ide. Physic was under the saiTie embarrassments : business of the mercantile line, I cculd not pursue for 52 MEMOIRS OF want of a capital; and even a school, at this time of the year, was hardly to be obtained. Business of some kind I must enter into, and ihat im- mediately, in order to answer the present calls of nature. And what can that be ? said I ; have not I enumerated all the callings, which are profitable for me to attend to ? I might possibly write in an office, or tend in a store, on wages, had I any person to recommend or introduce me into that business. But what can now be done ? A strang- er — moneyless — and friendless. There is one thing, said contrivance, which you may do ; and it will answer your purpose ;— preach 1 I Preach ? What a pretty fellow am I for a preacher ! A pretty character mine, to tickle the ears of a grave audience 1 Run away from my own home for being connected in robbing a bee house, and for my at- tention to a married woman ; having been through scenes of tumult, during my whole career, since I have exhibited on the active stage of life. Besides all this, what an ap- pearance should I make in my present dress ? which con- sisted of a light grey coat, with silver plated buttons, green vest, and red velvet breeches. This, said I, is a curious dress for me to offer myself in, as a preacher ; and I am by no means able to obtain a different suit. These objections, truly, are weighty ; many difficulties must be surmounted, in order to enter into this business; but as this is the only kind you can attend to, said I to iTTiyself: under present circumstances, you can but be destitute of resource, if you make the trial and do not succeed. At any rate, it is best to see what can be done ; therefore, in order to obviate the first difficulty, viz. of disagreeable reports following you, it will be necessary to prevent, as much as possible, your being known, where you offer yourself to preach; and in order to prevent that you must change your name. Tiiis being done, you must !^o some distance, where you are not personally known ; iind the probability is, tiuit you c-\n continue in such busi- ricss, till some opportunity may offer for your entering in- to othjr employment. As for your dress you cimnot alter that at present, and therefore, yv>u must make the best of it you can. I do not think it will be an in-iurniountable obsta- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 53 e ; if you fid! in one attempt, mind not lobe discouivr;ed, t repeat the trial, until you bucc?ed. After I h?in Connecticut river about one hundred and fifty miles, judging th?vt l\v this time, I wasj&r enough from home to remain unknown. I co'ncl'jded to begin my operations. Hearing of a place called Ludlow, not far distant, where they v/ere destitute of a clergyman, I bent my course that way, it being Satur- day, and intended to preach the next day, if I proved suc- cessful. I arrived about noon, and put up at the house of one Fuller, whom I found to be a leading man in their re- ligious society. I introduced myself to him as a clergy- man, and he gave me an invitation to spend the sabbath with them and preach. You v.ill readily conclude that I did not refuse this invitation. The greatest obstacle was now surmounted, as I conceived, viewing myself as fairly introduced into the ministeiMF^l function. I retired to rest at the usual time, and^ after I had composed my mind suf- ficiently for reflection,*! began to consider under what sit- u"ition my affairs nov/ stood, and what was to be done under present circumstances. I had engaged to preach on the morrow. I had almost forgotten to tell you that ray name here w^as Davis. People had been notified that a sermon would be delivered. This businef^I never had attempt- ed. It is true, the study of divinity had come under my atrention, together with every other subject of common concern, in a cursory manner. I concluded that sermon- izing would net he so difficult as the other exercises of public worship. Many disagreeable possibilities arose in- to view. What, said I, would be my feelings, should I make some egregious blunder in travelling thii unbeaten road ? I must be. exposed to the mci tifying consideration ot being observed by a whole assembly, in this ridiculous essay to preach, and not be able to carry my attempt into cxeculion ; and all those things possibly may li.^poen. E 3 " 5i MEMOIRS OF Those consideraUons made so dismal an appearance, tliat J once concluded to get up, take my horse privately out of ihc stable and depart, rather than run the risk of the dan- ,c^crs which were before me. But upon more mature re- ilection, I found the hard hand of necessity compelled me to stay. When I awoktr the next morning-, my heart Ijeat v.ith anxious palpitation for the issue of the day. I con- sidered this as the most important scene of my life — thu'. in a great measure, rny future happiness or wretchedness depended on my conduct through this day. The time for assembling approached i I saw people began to come tu- gethcr. ]\Iy feelings were all in arms against me, my heart would almost leap into my anouth. What a strange thing, said 1, is man I Why am I thus perlurbated with these wliimsical feelings ? 1 know my dress is against m.e, and v.ill cause some speculation ; but I cannot help it, and why need I afilict myself with disa- greeables before they arrive ? I endeavored to calm my feelings by those reflections. I fortified ray countenance with all my resolution, and set out with my bible and psalm book under my arm, those being the only insignia of a cler- gyman about me. When I made my appearance, I found a stare of universal siu'priie at my gay dress, which suited better the character of a beau than a clergyman. My eyes I could not persuade myself to raise from the ground till I had ascended the pulpit. I was doubtful whether I had the command of my voice, or even whether I had any voice. I sat a few moments, collecting my resolution for the effort of beginning : I made the attempt — I found my voice at command — my anxiety was hushed in a moment, my perturbation subsided, and I felt all the serenity of a calm summer's morning. I went through the exercises of the forenoon without any difficulty. No monarch, when seated on the throne, had more sensible feelings of pros- perity, than what I experienced at this time. During the intermission, I heard the whisper in sv>ift circulation among the people, concerning my appearance in such a dress. The question was often asked with great emphasis, " Who is he r" but no one was able to give those answers which were saiisfaclorv'. A consultation STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 5^; /k place among some leading members of the society, relative to hiring me to continue among them as a preach- er, as I had intimated to Mr. Fuller that I should he bil- ling to continue among them in that capaciiy, should such a matter meet Avith their approbation. I attended on the afternoon's exercises ^vithout any singular occurrence. The meeting being dismissed, and the people retired, I was informed by my landlord, that they did not agree to hire me any longer ; accordingly, I found my business here at an end. I was advised by IVIr. Fuller, to make application to ?.Ir, Baldwin, minister of Palmer, about twenty miles distant from Ludlow, for information where were vacancies, and for an introduction into those vacancies. I accordingly set out for Palmer on Monday morning, and arrived at ?.Ir. Baldwin's about four o'clock in the afternoon. I intrc- duced myself to him as a clergyman wanting employment. I saw he noticed my dress, but asked no questions. He examined into my education, knowledge of divinity, tenets, Sec. and finding all agreeing with his ideas of orthodoxy, he concluded to recommend me to a town called Pelham, eighteen miles distant from Palmer. The next morning I set off for Pelham, with a letter to one Deacon Gray. I arrived, and delivered my letter, and was hired, in conse= quence of the recommendation of Mr. Baldwin, without any hesitation, for four sabbaths, five dollars a sabbath ; boarding, horse-keeping, &c. kc. — I now found myself, in some measure, settled in business. The want of an im= mediate relief to my temporary inconveniences was now supplied. I found the family into which I had fallen, to be an agreeable, sociable circle, and I was much respected in the family, not only on account of my sacerdotal char- acter, but likewise on account of the ease with which I . mixed with them, in all their little social enjoyments. ^' MEMOIRS OF CKAP. VIII. " Companion of the wretched come, " Fi'ir Hope ! and dwell with me awhile ; *' Thy heav'nly presence gilds the g-looni, '*' AHiile happier scenes in prospect smile.' B EFOP-E I proceed to the rcbtion of sticceedmg events, it will be necessary to give a dcsciiption of the people in- habiting this town, as much will depend on knowing their character, to rightly understand the relation of incidents which will follow. The to^n of Pclhnm was settled with people chiefiy from the north of Ireiand. They were of course, strict Presbyterians. They valued themselves much on beinf^ acquainted with the nice distinctions between orthodox and heterodox principles and practice. They likewise wished to be thought shrewd in their observations on ministers and preaching. A people generally possessing violent passions, which once disturbed, raged, imcontroled by the dictates of reason ; unpolished in their manners, posses- sing a jealous disposition ; and either very friendly or veiy inimical, not knowing a medium between those two ex- tremes. The first settled minister they had among them, was one Abicrombie, from Scotland, a man of handsom.e abilities, but violent passions, resolute and persevering. Not many years after he was settled among them, a diffi- culty took place between him and the people, which was carried to considerable length, and ended in his dismission. After Mr. Abicrombie left this people, they made appli- cation to one Gi-ayham, who at length settled among them, to tUeir universal satisfaction ; being a very handsome speaker, and otherwise possest with popular talciHs as a preacher. Mr. Gray ham was a man of very delicate feel- ings, of superior refinemciij^, and inheriting a great desire for that peace which establishes the enjoyments of society. After preaching a number of years to this people, he found an uneasiness prevailing among them, the chief cause of v.hich was, his practising upon a system of man- ners more refined than what was prevalent in the place ♦, consequently, they accused him of pride, of attention to STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 57 the vanities of the world ; of leaving the plain path of scrip- ture, and following after the vices of Rome. Mr. Gray- ham labored to convince them of their mistake ; of his wish to live with them upon the most intimate terms of equality ; of his ever having it in view to pursue such measures as would, in their operation, conduce to their good and prosperity ; and in that pursuit, he had expected his examples and precepts would answer a valuable pur- pose. His expostulations, remonstrances and entreaties were all given to the wind. The difficulties increased, and the clamor grew louder. The mind of Mr. Grayham was too delicately stnmg to bear those strokes of misfor- tune ; they insensibly wore upon his constitution, till at last he fell a sacrafice to the tumult, and sought his rest in the grave. The town of Pelham remained destitute of a minister for a considerable time. They tried a number of candi- dates, but not finding any with whom they could agree, no one was yet settled. At length, a Mr. Merrill came among them. He was a man possessing the gift of utter- ance and flow of expression, perhaps equal to any. He was an eccentric genius, and imprudent to the last degree ; possessing violent passions — head-strong and impetuous. The plausible part of his character was so captivating, that the town agreed to settle him. He accordingly was in- stalled. His imprudences soon made their appearance. Complaint was made, but they found one now who paid but little attention to their complaining. Both parties be- gan to give way to passion. Their contention increased, and a flame was kindled which set the whole town in an uproar. Mr. Merrill refused to start from that founda- tion to which his legal contract Entitled him ; therefore, the other party determined to use extraordinary and vio- lent measures. Thft'attack Mr. Merrill durst not meet ; therefore, he suddenly left the town. Matters were in this situation when I came to Pelham. From the infor- mation of Mr. Baldwin, and from the communications of my landlord and family, I soon gained a pretty thorough knowledge of the people whom I was amongst'; and I en- deavored to adapt my conduct to their genius as far as L 58 MEMOIRS OF >vas capable. I found myself soon able to dress in a habit fitting my calling. I soon found, likewise, that my endeavors to suit the people had not altogether failed. At the expiration of the four Sabbaths, they engaged me to preach sixteen more. I began to form an acquaintance in the neighboring towns, and with the neighboring min- isters. This happened to be a time of great mortality among women in child-bed ; consequently, I was called to preach many funeral sermons in this and the neighboring towns, many of which were destitute of a clergyman of their own. I always attended this business when I had a call. This circun^stance began to raise a wonder in the minds of some, how I could be prepared for preaching so constant- ly, and on so short notice, being as yet only nineteen years of age. I had, in reality, ten sermons with me, written by my father. At a certain time, being suddenly called to preach a funeral sermon, I had none of my own written, proper for the occasion. I took one of my father's, and delivered it to a crowded audience. As this sermon was delivered in a private house, it was in tiie power of any to look into my notes. One, who hnd wondered at my always being pre- pared to preach, took this opportunity of looking over my notes, and thought they appeared too old to be lately writ- ten. This circumstance was mentioned to a number, who began to grow uneasy with the apprehension of my preach- ing sermons not my own. Mr. Baldwin coming to Pel- ham about this time, they mentioned the matter to him, that he might make some enquiry into the business, and inform them. He accordingly mentioned the matter to me, in a confidential m.anner, and desired to see the ser- mon alluded to. I v.'as sensible the hand-v/riting of my father was so different from my own, that the first view must clearly convince any obser\"er, that this sermon was not written by myself ; 1 therefore thought it the better way to treat the matter ingenuously, and tell him the sim- ple matter of fact. I told Mr. Baldwin, that the mermen v.as a manuscript ■\yhich I had in my possession, together with some ethers, STEPHEN BURROUGHvS. «9 written by another person, and that the want of time to pre- pare a discourse had induced me to take this, rather than refuse to preach. Mr. Baldwin made some observations with regard to my situation ; of the necessity of a great degree of prudence ; and of the impropriety of using oth- er sermons as a general thing. He returned to Palmer, without giving the men any account respecting the mat- ter of their suspicion. Not gaining that intelligence by Mr. Baldwin which was expected, those who were un- easy, spread their suspicions among others, until there be- came uneasiness pretiy generally through the town. They proposed a number of ways to obtain that satisfaction, with regard to their suspicion, which would either clear me from the fact of which they were jealous, or else establish them in it. They, at length, agreed to this method, viz. to send one of their number to me, on Sunday morning, previous to my going into the meeting-house, and desire ine to preach from a passage of scripture, which he should give me. I was informed of all these circumstances pre- vious to the time of trial. Their reasoning upon this sub- ject was of this nature, viz. that if I was able on the short- est notice, to preach on any occasion, I should be able like- wise to preach on Sunday, from such a passage as should be given me on the morning of the same day ; and should I not be able to preach, the evidence would be conclusive against m.e, that I preached the sermons of others, and not my own. The Sunday following, 1 was vraited on by Mr. Clark, who desired me to oblige him, by delivering a discourse from the first clause of the 5th verse of the 9th chapter of .Toshua ; the words were, " old shoes and clouted on their feet." I informed him I would deliver a discourse from that text, and accordingly he left me. I truly felt some- what blanked, at the nature of the passage I had to dis- course upon. However, I was determined to do the best on the subject I was capable. I endeavored to make some arrangements in my mind on the subject. I had not thought long on it, before the matter opened to niy mind, in such a manner, as to give me much satisfaction. As your pa- tience would hardly endure the repetition of a tedious ser- 60 MEMOIRS OF mon, I will not trouble you with it ; yet, sir, indulge me in giving you some general outlines of this discourse, as it was founded on a very singular passage, and delivered on a very extraordinary occasion. CHAP. IX. " Thus airy pleasure dances in our eyes, " And spreads false imag-es in fair disguise, " To lure our souls ; till just witliin our arms " The vision dies, and all the painted charms " Flee quick away, from the pursuing sight, " 'Till they are lost in shades, and mingle with the night." An handling this discourse, the exordium consisted of a description of the Gibeonites ; the duplicity which they practiced upon the Jews ; the nature and general tenden- cy of deceit, Sec. After I had gone through with the in- troduction, I divided my discourse into three general heads, viz. to consider in the first place of shoes ; 2dly, of old shoes ; and 3dly, of clouted shoes. In treating of the first general head, viz. shoes, I considered them in a met- aphorical sense, as shewing our mode of conduct in life. We are all, said I. sojourners in this world but for a sea- son, travelling to another country, to which we shall, ere long, arrive ; we must all be shod, in order to enable us to travel the road before us. We find the good man repre- sented as having his " feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace." All mankind are in a state of mo- tion ; none remain inactive on this stage of probation ; all are moving forward with rapidity, and hastening to their final end. Not only the natural world, but likewise' the mental, is filled with briars and thorns, stones and rubbish which wound us at every step, when we are not shod to guard us from those injuries we should otherwise receive from those impediments. Mankind, finding this to be the case, have immediate recourse to such coverings for their feet, as they imagine will protect them from the in- juries to which they are exposed, he. kc. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 61 In treating the second head, viz. of old shoes, I endeav- ored to shew, that they represented those, " who had been hewing to themselves cisterns, broken cisterns, which can hold no water." We find, said I, from the earliest ages of the world, mankind practicing upon that system. Tney have continued ever since to tread in the steps of their predecessors, and to wear the same old shoes. The old shoes represent old sins, which mankind have made use of from old times, down to the present day. And would to God they had been worn until mankind had been ashamed of them. A spirit of jealousy and discord, per- haps, may be accounted as old as any shoes now worti. How soon after the creation do we find this same destruc- tive principle raging in the little family, which then com- posed the whole human race. Murder was the conse- quence ; revenge and hatred were perpetuated by it. *' Now I am possessed with this accursed passion," said Cain, " whoever shall find me, shall slay me." The dire- ful influence of this passion spreads its dismal effects among all mankind, when it once prevails. Solomon, viewing the operation of this principle upon the human heart, says, " Jealousy is more cruel than the grave." It deluges countries, destroys societies, and renders man hateful to man. All civil and religious bodies are destroyed, when once this hateful monster is allowed an enti'ance. Minis- ters and people, parents and children, husbands and v/ives, fall a sacrifice to the influence of " jealousy, that green eyed monster, which makes the meat it feeds on." There- fore, wo be to that people who cherish the seeds of jealou- sy, or practice after her counsels, ^c. kc. &c. In considering the last general head, viz. of clouted shoes, I observed, that those, v/ho wore those old shoes, and. pra«:- ticed upon a system of jealousy, were sensible of its odi- ous and hateful nature, and of consequence, ashamed to be seen by God, man, or the devil ; nay, they were ashamed to be seen by themselves, therefsre, they had recourse to patching and clouting themselves over with false and feign- ed pretences, to hide their shame and disgrace. This vice has been considered, by all wise men, as the most destruc- tive to human felicity, and the least excusable, and most F 62 MEMOIRS OF unreasonble, of any passion incident to the human heart. It is a passion, which debases the human character to its lowest ebb, as says a noted author, " Where I see a jeal- ous people, I expect likewise, to see eveiy thing base and sordid among them." Look around, my hearers, and judge for yourselves ; whenever you have left this firstborn son of hell triumph- ing in your bosoms, how soon has joy and comfort fled from your hearts ? How soon has this doleful monster turned all the sweets of life into wormwood and gall ? &c. I concluded this discourse by an application of the sub- ject, after the following manner. My hearers, where shall I apply this doctrine? Is it calculated for a people only at some great distance ? Can we not bring it home, even to our own doors ? Search and see. Try yourselves by the sanctuary, and if there your garments are not washed in innocence, you will find, " Mene, mene, tekel upharsin," written on your walls. Will you suffer this hateful mon- ster to rage among you ? Will you wear these old filthy clouted shoes any longer ? W^ill you not rather put on that " charity which endureth all things, which hopeth all things ?" Will you not rather be '< shod with the pre- paration of the gospel of peace r" kc. &c. ice. After this sermon was delivere'd, I found the people, though somewhat disturbed at my esteeming them jeal- ous, satisfied with regard to my ability in sermonizing, and they afterwards remained quiet on that head. I found it necessary to purchase me a horse, saddle, and bridle, as well as to clothe myself anew entirely, with such apparel as became a clergyman ; therefore, I was under the ne- cessity to anticipate my wages to answer these purposes, after I had disposed of my old horse, saddle and bridle to the best advantage. No person of my acquaintance knew where I was at this time, except Joseph Huntington, whom I had left at Dart- mouth College ; with him I continued a correspondence by letter ; he engaged to make me a visit in September, as he should then be on his way to Coventry, and could take Pelham in his journey. I once saw a person whom I had formerly been acquainted with at Coventry, by STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 63 the name of Avery ; but he did not appear to recog- nise me, being under a different name, and in a different dress. The f- st of my seeing him was in the meeting- house. I made it convenient to fall in with him after- wards, to see if he had any recollection of me, and found he had not. Not long after this, I saw a young man by the name of Powers, with whom I was acquainted at Dartmouth Col- lege. I saw he paid close attention to me, whilst I was preaching, and concluded from a number of circumstan- ces, he knev/ me. He lived in Greenwich, a town adjoin- ing, and had connexions in Pelham. I therefore conclud- ed it to be a matter of consequence to throw myself in his way, find come to an explanation with him. Accordingly, after meeting, I made it convenient for him to speak to me, which he readily did ; and he being informed into the motives of my conduct, promised not to say any thing which should create an uneasiness among the people. At another time, coming from a town culled Colrain, having been on a visit to the clergyman living in that town, I met one Church, with whom I was acquidnted at the College ; he now being a clergyman, and seeiiig me in a clerical habit, stared with surprise at me. I frankly told him my situation, and vrhere I was preaching. At the re- lation of this, his phiz became lengthened, he assumed all the importance attached to his function, and addressed me in a lengthy harrangue, shewing the sacredness of the character which I had assumed, and of the grci-t impor- tance of " walking worthy of the vocation wherev/ith I was called." I pulled off my hat, made him a profoimd rever- ence, and rode on. Soon after I had left this Knight of the Cross, I began to reflect upon the nature of my own conduct, and upon mature consideration, blamed myself much forgiving aim that information which I had, with regard to my own mat- ters. This information, said I, can do him no manner of good, and it may do me much injuty. The secret is u^w gone from me, and I cannot recal it. I cannot recei-. -3 any possible good from commuiucating this matter, and many possible evils may befal me in consequence of it. 64 MEMOIRS OF I will leave matters in this situation, and go back* some "vvay in my narrative, in order to fetch forward a number of matters, necessary to understand many events, which will hereafter be related. When I first came to Pelham, I formed an acquaint- ance with a family, vv'hich must remain nameless, for rea- sons vrhich you Vvili understand by the after relation. The 3nan was possessed of information far above the rest of the inhabitants. His manners and sentiments were equally refined ; his wife possessed those amiable accomplish- m.ents which made her a paragon of excellence among the rude inhabitants of this town. This couple lived together on such terms, as to do honor to their refinement. The most tender affections marked all their actions, whilj their parental care had formed a family of the most lovely chil- dren. With this family I formed an acqualf^tance, which was not only intimate, but ardently affectionate. I lived with them on such terms of nearness and confidence, as I never expect to do with any other. All their propensities, feelings, and sentiments were in union with my own ; so that not a discordant sound was- heard among us. In fine, I do not knov.- the act of friendship too romantic or desper- ate for me to have performed, for this amiable family, had occasion called ; my feelings of friendship were so strong towards them, I communicated all the secrets respecting myself to them, without disguising any circumstance. The man told me that measures were in such a train, ihat lie should soon be in possession of an independent fortune. Prompted by the feelings of friendship, he wished me to enjoy a part of the blessing in store for him ; he therefore let me into the knowledge of his wealth and greatness. He informed me thatone Philips, who was then at work in New-Salem, with the noted Glazier Wheeler, a money- maker, known throughout all New-England, had the art of transmuting metals, so as to make copper into good sil- ver, M'hich would stand the test of every essay made upon it. This knowledge Philips had agreed to communicate to my friend, who, for distinction sake, I will call Lysan- der. Said I, it this can be done, at no considerable ex- pense, it is a matter of the utmost consequence ; but his STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 65 working v»'ith Glazier Wheeler is an exceptionable cir- cumstance a,^ainst him, in my opinion ; however, he may liave his own reasons for it, and those reasons, were they known to me, might be satisfactory. Lysander appeared to entertain the highest confidence in the business. His wife was more doubtful ; who, by the by, was the most penetrating of the two. In order to put tlie matter out of all doubt, 1 agreed to attend Lysander on a visit to this wonderful transmuter of metals, and there examine his experiments, until v/e had reduced the matter to a certain- ty. The visit was to be made in the night, to prevent any suspicion arising from the circumstance of being at the money-maker Wheeler's. We accordingly, one night, set out on our destination, it being a rout of about tv»elve miles, and arrived there about 10 o'clock. We made our business known to Philips, who was willing to. give us proofs of his skill. He in the first place, weighed one half ounce of copper, and put it into a crucible, and then put the crucible into the fire ; after it remained there a short space of time, he put in a paper, containing something wrapped in it, and immediately the matter in the crucible became turbid, and began to foam and boil with great violence, for about ten minutes, and then settled down into a clear beautiful metai, which, when poured off and cooled, was good silver, v/eigh- ing one half an ounce. It stood the trial by aqua-fortis, and several ways, so that I had no doubt of its being good silver. My only doubt remained as to the contents of the paper, which was put into the crucible. This contained a certain powder, as Philips said, which served to destroy the verdigrease, which the copper absorbed, aiid the re- mainder was pure silver. I wished to see the powder — with some seeming reluctance, he shewed it me. I sav/ it was in reality a powder. I wished him to try the ex- periment again, and to put the powder in open, so as to have it seen after it was in the crucible. He pre- tended it would not do quite so vvell this way, but, to gratify our curiosity, consented. The experiment, in all its circumstances, was repeated, excepting his laying a large flat coal over the mouth of the crucible, immediate- 66 MEMOIRS OF ly after the copper was put in. The effect was the same —one half an ounce of good silver was poured out of the crucible. I again desired him to furnish me with the materials, and let me go through the operation myself, without his coming near the fire. H& consented. I weighed the copper, put it in, and proceeded according to his method, wdiich I had seen him perform, till the powder produced the boiling foam in the crucible, when he cried out to me to stir it. I did not recollect seeing him stir it ; however, I put an iron rod, about the bigness of a large nail-rod, and i.bout eighteen inches long, into the crucible, and stirred the contents. There was nothing but this iron rod which would answer to stir the metal with. When we emptied the crucible, we found half an ounce of good silvei-. Once more I begged his indulgence for another experiment ; ?,nd that he should not be in the room when it was per- formed. He readily consented. Lysander and myself proceeded together in the experiment, secundum artem. When we came to stir the metal, we could find nothing calculnted for that purpose, except a short piece of a walk- ing-staff; we therefore made use of that; but saw after- v/ards, we had burnt off about four inches of that end we had put into the crucible. We poured out the usual quan- tity of good silver. I was now satisfied beyond all doubt. We returned to Pelham with no small satisfaction. I felt all the confidence in the business which was possible to feel on any subject. I saw, in my own imagination, my fortune certainly made. Not a doubt remained in my mind of becoming the richest man on the continent of America. But how "fleeting our joys 1 how vain our expectations I Can you suppose the whole of this an illusion ? It was truly so. All the the plausible experiments which were per- formed by Philips and ourselves, were a series of the most consummate duplicity, which was ever performed. We did iiot make this discovery till som« time afterwards; but I will go forward with the account now, for the reason of its being so closely connected with th.e incidents aires.- dy related. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 67 When the first copper was put into the crucible, he put half an ounce of silver in likewise, which was wrapped in the paper, with some powder, which consumed the copper and left the silver. The next operation was after this manner. Being prevented from conveying the silver into the cructble, by my request of seeing the powder put in, he therefore secretly put his silver on the forge, and laid a large flat coal over it. At the proper time, he took up the silver and coal together with his tongs, and laying them over the top of the crucible, the silver unperceived fell in. The next deception was performed thus : at the time in which I was ordered to stir the metal in the crucible, an iron rod was the only thing to be found for such a purpose : on the lower end of this rod was fixed the silver, blacken- ed like iron, which being put into the crucible, melted off. The last experiment for supplying us with silver, was per- formed by making the end of the piece of walking-staff hollow, and placing the silver in the end of it, which being burnt off, left the silver in the criicifele. Thus this migh- ty fabric of wealth was blown away in an instant, like the baseless fabric of a vision. This adroit deceiver obtained property of a number, to the amount of two thousand dol- lars, and suddenly was missed. As he will be found on the stage a number of times, in the course of this narrative, it will be necessary to give some more particular description of this singular man. He was about five feet eight inches high, dark complex- ion, thick set, do-vn look, plausible in conversation, very ingenious in executing mechanical undertakings, and what is more surprising, he has but one arm. He had the entire command of his feelings, so that his countenance or actions never betrayed his inward sensations, persever- ing in any undertaking, perfidious, subtle, and designing.; lost to all feelings of fidelity, either towards the public, as a member of the community, or towards individuals, to whom he had m.ore immediately pledged his faith ; a rank coward, yet possessing the happiest abilities of imitating courage of any man I ever saw. There was no part of the coining art but what he was master of, and could, with one arm only, execute it to perfection. 68 MEMOIRS OF Being fully possessed -with the idea that our prosperity was certain, we concerted a plan to carry on the business to that amount, as to answer a purpose of magnitude. We therefore concluded to charter a vessel, load her with cop- per, coal, provision. Sec. necessary for the business, and re- tire to the isle of Sable, where we could pursue our plan uninterrupted. A writing was made and signed by all parties, for our regulation in prosecuting said purpose. CHAP. X. *' It was a season, when the ling^ering night, *' Disputes her empire with the rising lig'lit ; " A rosy blush here paints the doubtful mom, ** There glimmering stars, the uncertain shades adorn.'* A-T the time fixed on, Joseph Huntington came to see me at Pelham ; I introduced him to my acquaintance, and particularly to Lysander. We opened our schemes of aggrandizement" to him, without reserve. He was pleas- ed with our prospects, and in the overflowings of our friendship, we agreed to allow him, as the highest favor possible for us to communicate, to set his hand to our agreement, and so become a partner in our business. In the course of Huntington's remaining with me at Pelham, he made several unguarded mistakes, which reduced me to a very disagreeable situation. He called me by my proper name, a number of times, before the family where Hived. He excused himself by saying, that Burroughs was my nick name at Cc2Iege, and was given in conse- quence of my looking so much like one of that name. One Sunday morning, as people were going to meeting, 1 was leaning back in ray chair, the pommel resting against the door case. Huntington, seeing the situation in which I was resting, put his staff against the chair and pushed it off the case, and down I fell on the floor. This impudent action, done on Sunday, by my known and ultimate friend, had a very disagreeable appearance, and made people look with astonishment at the circumstsmce j however, I re- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 69 proved Huntinsjton with some warmth, and he, seeing the nature of his folly, bore it with patience. The Monday- following, Huntington was to proceed on to Coventry. I rode with him about twelve miles on his way, and then re- turned; but previous to my return, an affair took place which gave a new face to the scene of things. As we were riding by the house of Mr. Forward, min- ister of Belchertown, he came out of his house, and desir- ed us to call, alledging that Mr. Chapin, a minister from Windsor, was in the house, to whom he offered to intro- duce us. Mr. Chapin was a man well known to me, and I presumed I should be equally well known to him. I excused the matter, alledging that I was in haste, and therefore, could not do myself the pleasure of accepting his invitation. Mr. Forvrard was pressing for us to alight, and go in ; and while this dialogue continued, Mr. Chapin came out of the house, and addressed me by the name of Burroughs. I endeavored to convince him of his mistake, but to no purpose ; he insisted in a very peremptory man- ner, that my name was not Davis, but was bona fide Bur- roughs. I replied that those insults were not grateful to my feelings, and what I should not bear. " Your humble servant gentlemen." We then rode on, though repeat- edly desired to stop. When Huntington and I were by ourselves, we were merry upon the circumstance of being driven into so short a corner. After I had parted from Huntington, I was under the necessity of returning back the same road I came, and con- sequently, must pass again the house of Mr. Forward. Soon after I had gone by the house, I heard somebody calling after me, " Mr. Davis, Mr. Burroughs," but for reasons which you will easily conceive, I did not answer. As I rode on towards Pelham, I endeavored to concert measures of retreat against the storm, which w.is fa-st ga- thering, and would soon burst upon me, if it were not averted. The news would soon come to Pelham, of my real name, character. Sec. This would serve to arouse the indignation of that people to its full height. To con- tinue among them any longer, would be out of the ques- tion ; and to meet the rage of their resentment, after the 70 MEMOIRS OF whole matter of fact should be promulgated, I dared not; neither did I v/ish it. One Sunday more I was to preach among; them, before my time of engagement expired, and for this Sunday, I had already received my pay ; but under existing circumstances, it was doubtful in my mind, whe- ther they would insist on my fulfilling my engagement. At all events, I was determined to leave them veiy sud- denly, I accordingly came to my landlord's that evening, put my horse in the barn, and after the family were all re- tired to rest, I put my things in order, took my horse, and silently left the house. In this situation, I sought Lysan- der, related the circumstances which I was under, and concluded to lie by with him, till I should see what the event of those things would be. The next morning, Mr. Davis was not to be found. My landlord was almost frantic with surprise and grief. The town was alarmed, and suddenly was all in a flame. About 1 1 6'clock, P. M. a man came from Belchertown, with in- formation respecting the character who had been exhibit- ed among them as a preacher. This blew the flame into a tenfold rage. No pen can describe the uproar there was in the town of Pelham. They mounted hue and cries after me in every direction, with orders to spure not horse §esh. They perambulated the town, and anxiously asked every one for some circumstance, which would lead to a discovery where I was. All this took place whilst I lay snug in the corner, observing their operations. In hold- ing a corisultaiion upon these disagreeable matters, every one was anxious to clear himself of being the dupe to my artifice, as much as possible. " I never liked him," says one. " I always thought there was something suspicious about him," says another. " He ever had a very deceit- ful look," says a third. In fine, it had come to this, that not one now could discern any thing which ever appeared good or commendable about me, except one good old la- dy, who said, " Well, I hope they will catch him, and bring him back among us, and we will make him a good man, and keep him for our preacher." You may with propriety ask me, what the people of Pel- ham expected they could do, should they overtake me in STEPHEN BURROUGHS. n their pursuit ? I know the question will naturally arise ; but I cannot give you ^n answer, for I do not know their intentions or expectations. Perhaps they thought, for they were a people very ignorant, that I had broken the laws of the land, to the same amount as I had offended them. About 1 2 o'clock, the night following, I took my leave of Lysander, promising to return and see him again, as soon as the tumult was hushed, and concert further mea- sures for our prosecuting our schemes for gaining wealth by transmutation ; being obliged so suddenly to leave the country, that we could not ripen our plans for the present. It was not without the most sensible pain I left this amia- ble family. Journeying on, I had time for reflection. At dead of night — all alone — reflection would have its opera- tion. A very singular scene have I now passed through, said I, and to what does it amount ? Have I acted with propri- ety as a man, or have I deviated from the path of recti- tude ? I have had an unheard of, difficult, disagreeable part to act : I do not feel entirely satisfied with myself in this business, and yet I do not know how I should have done otherwise, and have made the matter better. The laws of the land I have not broken, in any instance ; but my situation has been such, that I have violated that prin- ciple of veracity which \^e implicitly pledge ourselves to maintainHowards each other, as a general thing in society; and whether my peculiar circumstances would warrant such a line of procedure, is the question ? I know many things may be said in favor of it, as well as against it. How I came into this disagreeable situation, is another matter. I know that the leading cause which produced it, was founded in wrong. My giving countenance to an open breach of the laws of the land, in the case of the bees, was a matter in which I was justly reprehensible ; but that matter is now past ; the owner of the bees is remunerated to the utmost extent which is provided for by law, and therefore, I must take things as they now are, and under these circumstances, do the best I can. I know the world will blame me, but I wish to justify my conduct to myself 72 MEMOIRS OF let the world think what it may. Indeed, I know they are not. capable of judging upon the matter, with any proprie- ty, because they ever will and ever must remain ignorant of the particular causes which brought these events into existence. They understand the matter in the gross, that I have preached under a fictitious name and character, and consequently, have roused many ideas in the minds of the people not founded in fact. Therefore, they concluded from this general view, the whole to be grounded in wrong. The name impostor, is therefore easily fixtto my charac- ter. An impostor, we generally conceive, puts on feign- ed appearances, in order to enrich or aggrandize himself, to the damage of others. That this is not the case with me, in this transaction, I think is clear. That I have aim- ed at nothing but a bare supply of the necessaries of life, is a fact. That I have never, in one instance, taken advan- tage of that confidence which the people of Pelham en- tertained towards me, to injure them ami benefit myself, is ^ truth acknowledged by all. Under these circum- stances, whether I ought to bear the name of imposture, according to the common acceptation, is the question ? That I have a good and equitable light to preach, if I choose, and others choose to hear me, is a truth of which I entertain no doubt : but whether any circumstance will justify my putting on a false appearance, in order to intro- duce myself into that business, is the only doubt remaining on my mind. I think it my duty, at least, to steer as clear of this base guise for the future, as my safety will admit. About 1 o'clock at night, leaving the confines of Pel- ham, I overtook Powers, the person whom I have before mentioned, likewise coming out of Pelham. He knew me — I asked him where he had been. He was embar- rassed about giving me an answer. I mistrusted he had been employed in searching after me ; I laid it to his, charge. After some hesitation, he o^vned the fact. I put on a fierce look, and commanded him to stop, in a very peremptory manner ; he obeyed. Now, said I, Powers, you see my situation ; you are the only person who knows where I am ; therefore, I am determined tiJT^take mea- sures for my own safety j and for that reason, promise me, STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 73 Vvith the solemnity of an oath, that you will give no Infor- mation respecting me. Powers began to expostulate. I added still more terror to my looks, and commanded him to swear to secrecy immediately, if he ever wished for the opportunity. He was terrified. He began to imprecate curses on his head, of the most horiid nature, if he should divulge his having seen me, or knowir»g v.hich way I had gone. We then fell into familiar chat on various topics ; rode on together till we arrived at the place where he left me to go to his father's. I went on without suspicion of danger ; but no sooner liad I left Powers than he took his way back again with all speed, and informed the people of Pclham of his discovery. It was about the dawn of day when he had returned to Pelham, and gave this important information. The nev/s was like an electric shock. It was communicated through the town with that rapidity which vvould have done honor to a cause of importance. The people were assembled, and a select, niiiaber ap- pointed to pursue me. All these things were unknown to me, whilst I rode on leisurely and securely, thinking of no danger. I had de- termined to bend my course for Rutland, (IVIass) where I expected to find an acqudntfence of mine, by the name of Frink, who was doing business in the mercamile line in that town ; and if, fortunately, I could obtain business of some other kind, through liis meuns, I determined to drop preaching, which subjected me to so many false appear- ances, contrary to my inclination. I arrived about 8 o'clock A. M. at Rutland, and found Mr. Frink, according to my expectation, at his shop. CHAP. XI. "No joy, no glory, glitters in thy sight, " But thro' the thin partition of an horn- ; ** I see its sables wove by Destiny, " And that m sorrow buried ; this in shame ; " While howling Furies ring the doleful knell." XRELAfcD to him the scenes through which I had passed j my motives in performing such parts iu tho :c 74 MEMOIRS OF scenes, and my present determination. Mr. Frink had no business of his own in which he wished to engage me, but said he would make enquiry among his acquaintance, and see what could be done. In the mean time, he wished me to tarry with him., and make myself easy, until he could have opportunity of making the necessary inquiry. After I had taken some refreshment, and put out my horse, I went into his counting-room, to have some further con- versation on the subject of my business. Whilst I was leaning my elbow out at the window, I turned my eyes at the sudden and violent tranipling of horses, and sa^y a large number of people from Pelham after me. Seeing so ma- ny, and they riding with such fury, gave me a sudden im- pulse of fear, and I thought to elude them by flight ; therefore, sprang out of my chair, and ran across the shop, in oixler to go out at the back door ; but no sooner had I arrived there, than I was met by one Konkey, who at- tempted to seize me. This roused my indignation, and "vvith my walking-staff, I gave him a blow across the riglit arm, which broke it. Having by this mean, made myself a passage, I ran round the end of the shop, which I sup- posed would be most out of sight ; but when I turned the corner, I met, full in the face, two of my deacons. I then turned and ran abouttwentyrods, down a small hill, and the Pelhamites all after me, hallooing with all their might, ** Stop him ! stop him !" To be pursued thus, like a thief, an object of universal speculation to the inhabitants of Rut- land, gave me very disagreeable sensations, which I was determined not to bear. I therefore stopped, took up a stone, and declared that the first who should approach me, I would kill on the spot. To hear such language, and see such a state of deter- mined defiance, in one whom they had lately reverenced as a clergyman, struck even the people of Pelham with astonish. ment and fear. They were very credulous in sto- ries^ofthc devil, witches, 8cc. and now thought the devil had appeared in human shape, ready to destroy thern. They all stopped ; amazement being pictuped on their countenances, except one Hind. This mian™ued him- self much on his courage and dexterity, and in order to STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 75 shew his superior ability, advanced alone, till he came within my reach ; when, with a stroke of my stone, I tum- bled him to the ground, apparently a lifeless corpse. This was a sufficient corroboration of their first suspicion, and they were now very certain, that the devil had actually tak- en the liberty to hold a tight dispute with them. A sharp dialogue took place between those men and myself. See- ing a large number of people beginning to collect and come toward me, I moved on about two rods in front of the Pelhamites, and they after me. I told them in the most decided manner, that instant destruction should be their portion, if they attempted to approach any nearer. They believed, and kept their distance, till coming to a barn, which had only one small door, I went in, determin- ed to defend the door, which I expected to be able to do, on account of its advantageous situation. After I had en- tered the barn, I found there a situation, which pleased me much better, viz. the hay-mow, there being only one place, by which it was possible to ascend it, therefore, when I was on the top of this hay-mow, I could keep oft' any number of men that should attack me. I accordingly seized this strong hold with dispatch, mounted my for- tress and carried vrith me a scythe-snath, as a weapon of defence, to keep off the assailants. When the Pelhamites saw, through the crannies of the barn, where I had taken my station, they ventured to come in, together with a num- ber of the inh:J;itants. I found the people, who came into the barn with the Pelhamites, were anxious to learn the reason of this up- roar. Deacon M'Mullen, of Pelham, informed them that I was an impostor ; I had called my name Davis, when in reality it was Burroughs ; had come among them under that character, and grossly deceived them ; preaching v.-ith them through the summer. It was demanded of him whether this Burroughs had, during the ti.ne of his preach- ing among them, preached well, and conducted according- ly I The answer was in the affirmative. " Well,"' says a by-^tander,, " why need you make any difficulty ? he preach- ed v»-ell— -^ou paid him v/eil — iW parties v.'ere saiisncd, and why need you now be uneasy ? What sienines wh .t 76 MEMOIRS OF he called his name ? A name does no good nor hurt, as tG the matter of his doctrine ; therefore, it will be well for you to make the best use of his preaching ; and of course, you will find yourselves rew^arded that way, for the money which you have paid him." " But," said the deacon, '* we hnve paid Iiim fpr one Sunday which he has not preached." " As to that matter," said the by-stander, " I think he is wrong, if that be the case. If he has en- gaged to preach, he ought to fulfil his engagements ; but as the Sunday is not yet come, on which he is to preach, I think it. a hard interpretation of his conduct, to say he has cheated you out of that sermon, until that time comes, so that you may see whether he w-ill perform his engage- ments or not." " He certainly has attempted to murder doctor Hind and ISIr. Konkey," said deacon M*Mullen. lie therefore ought to be apprehended, anc} prosecuted recording to the severity of the law." " As to rightly un- derstaniing that," replied the other, " I believe a number cf circumstances will come into view. At first, you came Tipon him in a riotous, tumultuous manner, indicating by your conduct, that your intentions towards him were evil, and under this situation, he might well suppose, that to submit tamely to what you were about to do, might be ex- posing him.seli to immediate death. And secondly, he took those measures to discover the violence ct your in- tentions, which prudence dictated, under such circumstan- ces, by telling you to keep your distance ; and at the same time, declaring his determination, in case you did not do it. Therefore, as self-defence is justifiable, and as it will < ppear that his conduct was dictated by self-defence; I believe it will be somewhat dithcult to make it evident to iny impartial jury, that he has transgressed the law, in the i ;Stance you mention." " If he has broken the law no other way," said the deacon, *' he has done it in thrcat- tning to kill a ycung m.?.n last night, by the name of Pow- ers, because he*d not promise to keep it a secret that he had seen him." " If that be the case," said the other, " he cen:jn)y is cogniz'^ble by tiie law, when tl^ is prov- ed. Eut where is this Powers r" " At Pclhan^ said tlie (Icucon. " Th^n," said the otlicr, «itiith so miicii sanguine assurance. However, as his last resort, he ad- verted again to the pay which I had anticipated for one day's preaching, which I had not yet performed, and said he was very sensible I did not mean to perform, and to my deceiving them under a false name. " As to obviating the first difficulty, this objection arises," said the by-stander, " from whom did Burroughs receive this money which you mention ?" " From Dea- con Gray, our committee for supplying the pulpit," said Deacon MOIullen. " Then," said the other, '^ the busi- nes stands thus : Burroughs stands indebted to Deacon Gray for money had and received of him, to the amount of the sum total. On the other hand, Deacon Gray stands Indebted to Burroughs for the services whichhe has ren- dered, according to their agreement. Now, if Deacon Gray's advances have been greater than his receipts, \\\\- doubtedly Burroughs is indebted to Deacon Gray for the balance, and ought to pay him according to contract ; but as you have no power to act for Deacon Gray, I do net conceive how you can have any demand, either mediately or immediately, against Burroughs on that account ; cJid if Burroughs should even pay you back the five dollar-, which you say, though without any legal evidence, bo owes Deacon Gray, yet that would not exonerate Bur- roughs from the debt, or make him less liable to pay i:;. G 2 rs MEMOIRS OF ever ag-ain. And as forliis deceii-ing you uv a fcdsc name, I will tell you how you mny settle that inatler, in the best vray I can think of. I recollect, some years since, when r^.Ir. Abicrombie was your minister, there was an uneasi- ness prevailing among his people on account of his intem- perance ; they therefore chose a committee, of whom I think you, Deacon M'MuUen, was one, to deal with him for this crime. They accordingly came. The old fox un- derstood how to avoid the trap. He had laid in some ex- cellent West-India rum, treated the committee with great hospitality, and. in the language of the poet, caused them to " drink deep at the iountain of pleasure," till they were imable to leave him through the night, on account of dip- ping too deep into the sv.cets, for which they were about to reprove him. Under this situation, they concluded the rext moiTiing, as the better way, to make their report to the church, that Mr. Abicrombie had given them christian satisfaction. They did so, and here this matter ended. Now> continued this by-stander, the way that I propose is, lor Burroughs to do as Mr. Abicrombie did', and for you to accept itas christian satisfaclion from this minister as well as that. Wood keeps an excellent tavern hard by ; I pro- pose for all to move \xp there." This proposal was finally accepted by all. I therefore came ir value in the hands of others. To put this art into practice, so as to enrich myself, and not destroy that due proportion between representative property and real property, is doing myseli" a favor, and injuring none. Gold and silver are made use of for con- venience, to transact our business of barter and exchange with each other, as the representation of property, it bein,t; less cumbersome, and more easy to communicate from one to another, than real property of any kind : hence, when there is a due proportion of representative property, business cr.n be transacted to the greatest advantage, and with the greatest ease. And when the public experience a scarcity or redundancy, they of course suffer an incon- veniency : therefore, that person who contributes his mito to keep the balance between these two species of proper- ty justly poised, is a blcsjAng to himself, and to the com- munity of which he is a member. That an undue scar- city of cash now prevails, is a truth too obvious for me to attempt to prove. Your own observation will convince you of it. Hence, v/hoever contributes, really, tn increase the quantity of cash, does not qnly himself, but likewise the community, an essential benelic. And, that this can he done, in the pursuit which I have undertaken, and with- out endangering the .safety of any g'^:\ I •"•11 convin-^ vou by ocular demonctr.^.tion." 90 MEMOIRS OF lie then presented me -with a bag of dollars, which his said were made by Glazier Wheeler. I poured theni-aH out ; I examined them with care, as I then thought ; I compared them uith other dollars, which were good. I could discover no difference. His arguments now stood all plain before me ; they were collected in a line ; and what do you think was the consequence ? I blush to tell you ^he truth 1 — I feel asham- ed of my own weakness I — My great want of solid judg- ment at that time, almost persuades me to hide the rela- tion of this fact. These arguments convinced me, un- founded as they were. I.ysander told me his intentions were to pay strict atten- tion to the business, and did not doubt his finally raising himself and family to a state of t4ie greatest afftuence. He had already obtained a sufficiency to ans^ver present pur- poses. He should soon obtain much more. The business was at a stand, just at present, for want of drugs proper for cari7inglt forward. He intended to go soon to Spring- field, vrhere he should obtain whatever he wanted for such a purpose. Lysander had not yet passed, or attempted to pass, any of his money. As I expected to leave his house the next night, on my rout to Danbun/, and to pass through Spring- field in my way, he agreed to set out with mc, and go his rout in my company. His wife had ever felt dissatisfied about this business ; being easily alarmed with the least appearance of danger, towards one in whom her happiness was so essentially embraced ; but when I drew the dread- ful picture of a detection, she grew almost frantic with fear ; and when she saw that no entreaties would prevail over his determination, she embraced the first opportuni- ty of conversing with me alone : and besought me in those moving terms, which would have melted a savage, to use my influence to prevent him from prosecuting his present undertaking. Her grief spoke more powerfully for her, than all the oratory of a Burke. I could noi resist her importunity. The language of her countenance and actions were irre- sistible. When Lys.inder c-ame into our comp:ir.y, I be- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. n gan the attack in the most vulnerable part of his fortress, i endeavored to set the distress of his wife in its true light before him. I recapitulated his own arguments, which he had before used, in order to induce me " to be content- ed with a bare competency." I repeated to him emphat- ically the words of Young, in his " Night Thoughts," viz. " Why all this toil, for triumphs of an hour ? " What tho' we wade in wealth, or soar in fame, <' Earth's highest station ends in " Here he lies." I told him I knew perfectly well his sincere aifections for his ^\dfe, and his ambition of seeing her become pos- sessed of an eq«ipage, Sec. But believe me, sir, not all the pomp and splendor of riches will repay her for the pain and anxiety she will endure on your account, for the space of one day, when you have absolutely launched into this dangerous ocean ; therefore, sir, inasmuch as her happiness is a leading motive in your pursuits in life, you will m^ke a most egregious blunder in your calcula- tions, even provided you are over so successful in your undertakings. The feelings of Lysander were moved. The struggle in his own breast was apparent in his countenance. He sat in silence a while, then burst into a flood of tears, and retired into another room. Not many minutes had elaps- ed before he returned. His countenance wore a more settled aspect. He mentioned his weakness with some confusion. He said he was ashamed of being seen in tears, especially on such an occasion, not having resolution suf- ficient to withstand our united attacks. " But," said he, '' the business is fixed — the die is cast — I have pledged my faith— -I have given my word to procure those articles at Springfield. Not only myself, but more than a dozen others, are now waiting for me to fulfil my engagements. Shall I, of all others, after having agreed in the most sol- emn manner, to yield my aid in the prosecution of this bu- siness, now in open violation of faith, retreat and leave them in suspense ? I feel the emotions of gratitude towards you, Mr. Bur- roughs, for the warmth of your feelings in my concerns j 92 MEMOIRS OF but this truth is manifest to me, that the enthusiasm of your feelings, as well as my wife's, does not give you an opportunity of rciisoning coolly and candidly upon this subject. Enough has been said. These articles must be obtained ; and no entreaties shall deter me from paying attention to it.'* What could be done ? What more could be said ? Ly- sander's wife I saw was inconsolable. What would you have done, had you been in my situation ? Words had now become entirely out of the question, and only one thing remained to be done ; and that I determined to do. I told Lysander I would take his money ; go to Spring- field ; purchase all the articles ; and return with them immediately. With some reluctance, he consented ; gave me twenty dollars for the business ; made out his account of the articles v/anted ; and directed me to the apothecar)''s shop, to which I must apply for them. At night, I left them with ten thousand blessings accompa- nying me. Riding alone through the dreary night, reflection would make me a visit. The scenes through which I had pass- ed had been so rapid, and filled with the emotions of sen- sibility, to that degree, as to leave but little room for re- ilection. I have now, said I, set out to perform that business, which, two days since, I do not believe the art of man could have persuaded me to. It is a new undertaking ; but I believe not attended with danger ; for the money is exe- cuted so well, as to prevent any man from distinguishing it from standard silver ; at least, it looks as well to me as any money ; and I do not see why I cannot distinguish counterfeit from true money, as well as others. I think my motive for this undertaking is founded on the principles of uprightness. I think the sentiment of friendship is the uppermost object in this undertaking. Possibly a species of vanity might have some induence on ■my mind ; and that I might wish to shew the wife of Ly- sander how ready I was to undertake such a desperate bu- siness to befriend her ; though, in reality, the danger con- sisted chiefly in her own fancy. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 93 What would be the consequence, should one among the ten thousand events, which daily occur, serve to reveal the part, which I am now about to act ? What would be the opinion of people concerning me, but of the most disagree- able kind, after having passed the ordeal of Pelham re- ports, founded on facts, which, to the world at large, would appear very unfavorable ? They would undoubtedly form their opinion from ostensible facts, that I was divested of honesty, uprightness and integrity. And even should I declare to the world, that my intentions were not against the good of society, this declaration v/ould fall upon the unbelievingheartsof a multitude, prone to place confidence in an evil report, and difficult in giving credit to that which is fiworablc. These circumstances would, moreover, be attended with the following disagreeable events, viz. reports of ray raisfortunes, or crimes, would spread and probably be at- tended with that exaggeration, of which reports of that kind generally partake, and reach my friends, connexions and enemies ; and of all misfortunes, that which gives tri- umph to an enemy is the most keenly felt. My friends would mourn, my enemies would rejoice. A view of these disagreeable events, which probably might happen, made a very deep impression on my mind. I was almost ready to faint under the trial, and thought to relinquish my undertaking. But again, said I, should I fail upon this first trial, what a pitiful appearance should I make in my own eyes ? I set out on this expedition with an idea that my friendship would carry me any length. I have pledged my friendship for the performance of this business ; and shall this be said of Burroughs, that in fair weather he was possessed with friendly sentiments, but the moment the prospect became overcast with clouds, his friendship failed ? How shall it be known whether I really possess those sentiments of benevolence, of which I have made such a pompous display, otherwise than by standing the trial in time of adversity? If the feelings of Damon and Pythias were graduated upon that scale of cool deliberation, which has appeared in my reasoning up- on this subject, those God-like acts of benevolence, to- G4 MEMOIRS OF wards each other, would never have been recorded of them, which not only made Dionysius stand m mute as- tonishment, but left a memento to the end of time, to what an amazing height virtuous friendship may arise. Contemplating upon matters, in this point of view, it gave me pain to think that I had even hesitated about my .performing the engagements which I had entered into. I felt a degree of guiit, which I wished to hide from my own view ; it produced a mortification which was exceedingly painful; therefore, I determined in my own mind, never again to allow myself to query upon the propriety of my undertaking, but to pursue it with unremitting attention, till it was accomplished. About 1 1 o'clock, A. M. I arrived at Springfield ; made application at the shop where I was directed ; told the shop-keeper my demands ; and received from him the articles according to the bill. I delivered him his money and departed. Stepping into the printing-office, across the way, to do some business, I was there, in a few min- utes, arrested by an officer of justice. The business at the apothecary's had made so little impression on my mind, that I could not conceive what could be the cause of my being arrested, at the time when the officer made me a prisoner. He informed me : and in an mstant, the whole view of my desperate situuion opened upon me. I vras taken before justice Pincheon, who treated the bu- siness with a great degree of candor. However, a compa- ny of attornies' clerks, merchants' clerks, &c. being called together by this event, were very active in making obser- vations against me, and hundng for evidence, for fear I should not be committed for trial. After ali circumstan- ces had been attended to with care, on both sides of the question, and the justice was about giving his final decis-* ion on the business, a part of the beforementioned clerks came into the office, hauling after them a man, like the Trojans, when they had found the Greek Sinon, vociferat- ing, " here is a man who knows him ! here is a man who knows him !" When the stranger was introduced, and silence prevail- ed, justice Pincheon asked what be knew concerning mc ^ STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 95 The answer was, " that I wae the greatest villain in the world ; had come to Pel ham under a fictitious name ; had there preached, when I was unworthy of the business ; had endeavored to kill a number of men in Pelham ; had cheated them out of their money," See This man you will readily understandi wasaPelhafnite. He rode post from Springfield to Pelham, constantly once a week. He felt all the prejudice incident to that people. He gave his testimony in a very categorical manner. It was now determined that I must take up my abode in jail, and there continue till the session of the Supreme Court, when I should take my trial for passing counterfeit mon- ey. I was accordingly committed. And now, sir, I be- lieve I have brought your patience to a very severe trial, by the length of my tedious narrative : therefore I will leave the business here till to-morrow ; for I feel almost sick myself, with ruminating upon the gloomy scenes through which I soon passed after this. CHAP. XIV -" Love of gain " Strikes like a pestilence, from breast to breast ; *' Riot, pride, perfidy, blew vapour's breath ; " And inhumanity is' caught from mem." jljLS the apothecary was the only witness against me, which could be produced at Court, I entertained warm expecta- tions of being acquitted on my trial. In the state of Massachusetts, many inconveniences had been experienced from the frequent circulation of coun- terfeit money ; therefore, the governor had offered a re- ward of twenty-five pounds, L. M. to any person, who should detect another in making or passing counterfeit money, knowing it to be such. Hence, the complainant becume interested in the issue on trial, and of course, ought to be excluded from giving his testimony. The apothecary, it is evident, would be entitled to the reward from government, the moment I became convict- / 96 MEMOIRS OF ed of the crime for which I remained confined. Hence, I felt confident that his testimony could not, according to every principle of justice, and would not, be admitted. In cases where not more than one dollar is in dispute, this regulation is invariably and sacredly adhered to, viz. that no one shall be admitted a witness in a case, wherein he is mediately, or immediately concerned ; and certainly, said I, where character, liberty, and property are all at stake, they will not dare to deviate from this rule of im- partiality. Those who would plead for the propriety of the apothe- cary's being admitted a witness in this cause, must either deny this general rule, viz. " that a man interested in a cause, ought to be excluded from bearing testimony in that cause," or else the being entitled to twenty-five pounds, in case of my conviction, did not make the apothecary in- terested in the case. Immediately after my confinement, a number of specu- lating geniuses resorted to me, expecting I would turn evidence for the state, and involve many more in the situ- ation to which I was reduced : they therefore were anx- ious to improve this time of harvest, and enrich themselves from the bounty of government. Hence, they offered me their exeitions in my behalf, and moreover, half of the reward which should be received, in case of the con- viction of others, from ^government. Had these speculators known with what contempt I viewed their conduct, they might have saved themselves some considerable, trouble. To speculate in human wo, and barely for the sake of enriching themselves, reduce others to a «tate of wretchedness and misery, is an object so detestable as to excite horror in every feeling breast. Had their real motive been the good of society, their ob- ject would have been laudable ; but it was a matter of pub- lic notoriety, that Glazier Wheeler had wrought openly for months past in New-Salem ; but these heroes took no notice of him, until the moment it was known that a re- ward was to be obtained for prosecuting money-makers to conviction, then all their ardor was in action ; aiid tlrls loo> for the benefit of government. . STEPHEN BURROUGHS. :. Those, who applied to me, found their expectations frus- trated ; that I had no design to communicate to them any knowledge I possessed concerning others ; therefore, they turned their course to different objects ; and determined, since I would not further their designs, that I should suf- fer the effects of popular prejudice. The printer, in Springfield, inserted a paragraph in his weekly publication, not calculated to fix the nxost pleasing; idea upon the minds of people through the country, viz. That I had been to a clergyman under pretence of coming from a mission among the Indians, and being poorly cloth- ed, had stated to the clergyman, that my clothes had been worn out during my continuance am.ong them. That the clergyman had invited me to preach, and in order to my appearing in character, offered me a suit of clothes ; that I had accepted the offer ; and in order to prepare myself for the exercises of the next day, had retiied into his study, begging the favor of his watch, to know how long I might allow myself to study previous to retiring to rest. That after the clergyman and his fiwnily had retii*ed to rest, I had silently left the house ; carrying with me at the same time, watch, clothes, &c. And leaving this text, written on paper, folded as for a sermon : " you shall seek me early, but shall not find me." These matters were all calculutcd to fix an invincible prejudice against me, in the minds of those people by whom I must ultimately be tried ; and consequently de- prived me of that favor which every person ought to have, upon a matter of such infinite consequence to his pros- perity in life. I saw the3e matters, and what would be the probable event. I expected application would be made to me« for a dis- covery of my confederate, or confederates, at the session of the Supreme Court; and therfeore, ought to form some system in my own mind, to rcgul. ;e -ny conduct: upon such an occasion. I ought either to discover the person of whom I received the mo::cy^ and for »vhom I had acted in passing it, or else I ought "io exonerate him entirely from crimination, or even suspicio'.. , and in or- der to weigh tiiese matters in the balance oi" justice. :' I i 3 MEMOIRS OF ■ ill naturally arise into view, wiiat is his situation, con- trasted with my situation and circumstances ? The con- nexions which have existed between us, and our views and expectations under that connexion ? True it is, that this act was performed solely for his ad- vantage, not having my own emolument in view, either directly or, indirectly ; therefore, ought he not to suffer the consequence of this business ? Moreover, his charac- ter stands as fair in this county, as any man's wl>atever ; and of consequence, he would siand a better chance on trial, in the prejudices of people, than I should. He is likewise a man of property, and can of consequence, make arrangements for assistance, by counsel and friends, which I cannot expect ; and even should he be convicted, ' the exertions of government may be nfiore mild towards hira, than they v/ouid towards me ; for judges are but men, and are subject to like passions and prejudices, with oth- er men ; and it is not impossible, but that they may feel -^he operation of prejudice in a trial respecting me, as well C'S others, which I daily seef.re governed by it. These were t^e arguments in favor of my making a discovery of the person from whom I had received the money. The arguments on the other side were, that Ly- biander, it is true, has a character, property, &c. to lose, and which he moreover must lose, in a great measure, should he be subjected to trial. He has aTamily, a de- scription of which I have already given you, which must share his fortune in the v/orld ; therefore his ruin must bring ruin likewise on his family. A wife, possessed of every tender feeling, must suffer more than is possible for a m.tn to puffer, who is calculated by nature, to endure the robuat toils of pain and hardship ; .and as she must sufler with her husband, in feelings, at least, it will be in- volving two in misery, as great as what I can endure, should I reveal this business respecting Lysander. It will likewise involve those who are perfectly inno- cent, in difnculty, as well, as the guilty, viz. Lysander's wife and children ; therefore, whether will it be better to meet the impending storm alone and unsupported, or else to exculpate myself, by throwing the sume-burthen upon STEPHEN BURROUGHS. Oj dx others, and all of them entirely innocent: excepting one ? Moreover, why did I undertake this business, un- less it was to hazard the danger myself, which attended this imdertaking ? I am determined. The arguments are more against me than they are for me, and I must stand the power of this storm, thick and fast gathering over my head. Happy was it for me, that I was ignorant at that time of the dreadful trials and miseries which I had to encoun- ter, before I was released from a state of confinement ; otherwise, my courage must have sunk ; my resolution must have failed. My blood, at this distant period of time, runs cold, at taking a retrospective view of those scenes. Since I have been writing this narrative, necessity has compelled me to have recourse to minutes, which brought those scenes into view, which have been a great tax on my tranquillily. I cannot now close my eyes in sleep, without being called to act these things over again in imagination. I start from sleep often, sweating with agony of mind, under the apprehensions which those images present to my view.* My determination being fixed, I laid my account to con- duct accordingly. Many people visited me daily, out of curiosity, to see a character entirely new ; the public be- ing fully possessed with the belief, that I had absolutely stolen a v.'atdi and suit of clothes from a clergyman, and had left him the text before mentioned ; and all I could say or do, had no influence to make them believe to the contrary. Some said this clergyman was Dr. Huntington of Cov- entry, and some said it was Mr. Trumbull, of North-Ha- ven ; but those two gentlemen denying any such titmsac- tion tow5ft'ds them, said the matter was a fact, but who the clergyman v/as was unknown It appeared that the world were determined not to give up any unfavorable idea which had once been broached concerning me, let it be ever so * These observations the ^^-^iter of this note has oftfrn heard Burroughs repeat with emotion, even since writing his seco'^-l voiume. How then is it possible he could have again phmg^d him- seitheadiong, and v>'ith his eyes open, into the same guh" of misery ! 100 ::,IEMOIRS OF unfounded or improbable. Therefore their ears wei^ open to croy lireatU of slander which was puffed ac^uinst me. My visitants would often look at me, when relating matters of lUcU with an arch significance, declarative of their knowinj^ the bottom of the business, notwithstanding all my plausible declarations. I do believe, if I had set cut with T^iirmth, to prove to the world that I was a man, and not a woman, that a great number, from that circum- stance, would have been able at once to look through the deception w^hich I was endeavoring to lay them under, and known for certainty that I was, in reality, a woman ; so strong WTiS the desire of mankind, at that day, to elude my deceptions, which they thought I was master of, to the utmost degree. In thb iiluction, you will readily conceive it could hard- Iv be expected that I should run clear of a verdict against ri.c, let the probi be ever so inadequate ; for the wisest and ; ;crt considerate of men will be influenced in their rea- :.::jir}5S by those popular clamors, more or less; and they L^».>jt avoid it, so liable is human nature to err in the de- vious path of life. The speculators in government bounties had now taken Glazier Wheeler, w*ho was likewise committed for trial. This man you will likely have a curiosity to be made more 'minutely acquainted v>dth, as he will make somewhat of a figure in this narrative. He was a man tottering under the weight of years, having long since, to all appearance, been a presumpiive candidate for the grave. He was a man of small mental abilities, but patient and persevering in any manual pursuit, to admiration. Credulous in the extreme, which subjected him lo the duplicity of many who had resorted to him for his work : inoffensive and harmless in his manners, simple in his external appear- ance, and weak in his observations on m.en and manners. He had spent all his days in pursuit of the knowledge of counterfeiting silver, so as to bear the test of essays. He had always been unfortunate, and always lived poor. • This was the man concerning whom the world had said so much, and who was to take his trial at the same time with me. One other, by the name of Jones, was likewise STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 101 committed, either for counterfeiting or passing counterfeit money, -which I do not recollect. Likewise one by the name of Cook was in co'^nement, to take his trial for bur- glary. These were the men who waited for the approach of the court with fearful apprehensions of the event. Many circumstances had taken place* whilst I lay con- fined here, which served to give me a pretty sanguine de- pendance on my own abilities. I had written a scrawl of ^ribaldry, and intitled it " the Hay-Mow Sermon," repre- senting my exploits in Pelham, at Rutland, kc. and deliv- ered this often to those who came to see rae as a phenome- non. I found Aiany applauded this as a witty thing, until I- finally began to think it so myself. The fiattery of those who were willing to alleviate the miseries of my situation, by making me at peace with myself, had such an opera- ation on my mind, that I seriously began to think myself a man d^some consequence, and was determined to let this circumstance be fully known at court, when I should have an opportunity of displaying all my abilities in such a con- spicuous manner as to create admiration in the minds of all. This was the state of things when I was called to the bar, and my indictment read. The judges on the bench, at this time, if I remember right, were«Mfessrs. Gushing, Sargent, Sumner and Dana. The attorney-general was Robert Treat Paine, of whom you have heard much men- tion made : yet. sir, as this is so extraordinary a character in the department of our jurisprudence', I will give it you more particularly in this narration. * * * * * # * * **3^5it';3t ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ** * >• **,*******#**# ^tt * *• ;i- In the indictment, I was"^ charged with passing tV:'o pieces of base metal, the counterfeit of Spanish milled • tf — ■ —1 * Mr. Editor — As Judg-e Paine sustains a station of importance in the judicial department in Massacliusetts, I wish to cast a veil of candor over his foibles, and suppress v/hatever may tend-to in- jure him in the minds of the public, in this narrative,' wiuch v/ar. given to a friend ; it being essentially necessaiy to support a due degree of respect towards those who remain in ctices of emiiiencc', ill ord^r to enable them to execute their duty t« the benefit of societ ' I 2 lOi MEMOIRS OF dollars, knowing them to be such, kc. To the indictment I plead not guilty. I had no counsel at this time, owing to the folloTving reason, viz. When I was first commit- ted to confinement, I expected to be in want of more mo- ney than %vhat I had on hand, for expenses in jail, attor- ney's fees at triaK Sec. Therefore, I sold my horse, sad- dle and bridle, and had a promise of the money in ten days, but to my no sm.r.ll disappointment, have not received my pay to this day : of course, at the time of trial, was entire- ly destitute of money. Being wholly unacquainted with the practice of the gen- tlemen of the bar at that time, I had embraced the opinion that they never would attend to the application of any, without an advanced fee. This idea I afterwards found to be entirely groundless. Under this apprehension, I ap- plied for no help, having no money to remunerate a coun- rellor for his assistance. This being the case, 1 stood alone in the business, which communicated an idea to tlie gcntlem.en of the bar, that a confidence in my own abili- ties induced me to look with indifference on their assist- c.nce. This, of consequence, did not serve to ingratiate myself into their favor. This was not all. In my address totbojury I flung out some hard expressions against them, owing to my mistaken idea of their venal practice ; all which served to create myself enemies, without the least t.pparent advantage arising from it. I have often thought that a jetrospective view of a thou- sand foolish calculations which people make in the days of youthful inexperrience, and the thoughtless unmeaning impetuosity, with which they pursue these objects of cal- culation, would serve greatly to lessen the resentment which the wiser part of mankind often feel towards them. After I had plead to the indictment, the attorney-gene- ral arose and opened the cause to the jury, stating in the course of his observations, that I had been a most abandon- ed character, leading a life.of iniquity from the beginning ; that I had been a counterfeiter not only of the coin of tb€ country, but had likewise counterfeited a name, a charac- ter, a calling : all which seemed to communicate this idea to the woridj that I had given a hose to the practice cf STEPHEN BURROUGHS. lOS every enormity ; that my wickedness had at length found me out ; and that I should now suffer a punishment due to my long course of crimes. After he had closed, he proceeded to call on his evi- dences. When the Apothecary came on to the stand, I objected to the court, againt his being admitted, being a person interested in the business. After hearing the ar- . guments pro. and con. the bench took the matter under consideration, and determined that hia evidence might be taken ; giving for reasop, that it had before been deter- mined ; and that the reward which government had of- fered, would militate against the conviction of crimes of that nature, rather than promote it, if the complainant should be exchided from giving testimony. As soon as this determination of the court was declar- ed, I pretty much gave up the idea of being acquitted. However, 1 thought it necessary to make the last defence I was able to; therefore, after the witnesses were exam- ined, I began my address to the jury, and in the course of my observations, took notice of the remarks of the attor- ney-general ; that he had, contrary to every principle of Jaw and justice, asserted facts, in open court, apparently with a wicked design, to fix prejudice in theii' minds, in order to prevent my trialbemg impartial, not even at- tempting to produce evidence to support the base asseo^ tions which he had made. I continued still further : I am astonished, said I, to see all justice and virtue fled from the bench. That those characters whom we are taught to revere, on account of their eminent station, should so far debase their own im- portance, as to remain in silence, when the most flagrant violations of all rules of order are perpetrated before them in open court : therefore, gentlemen of the jury, I turn to you as the only support, which now may be depended • on, for the enjoyment of our just rights and privileges. And nov^, sir, what do you think of this rant ? I know what you will say, viz. that it was tlie ebullition of a mad, hair-brained fellow. My feelings, it is true, were wound- ed by the observations of the attoi"ney-gene<^l, and I verilf expected to. punish all those whom I thought to blame in i»^ no4 MEMOIRS OF*' ith^iwMhess ; but how weak was my reasoning upon such '•a su^ect I How mad the part which I acted ! I soon found 49 iWy cost, that in the room of punishing others, I was irritating that power in v/hose grasp I was embraced, I continued my remarks to titiL fiiry, upon the evidence which had been exhibited against me, with as much argu- ment as the case would -admit of. The attornej'-general answered my remari^, and the judges summed up the evidence, and stated the business to the jury, not in a very partial map^e;-.; "The jury retir^, and in about one hour retyi^eid w'iTih the- verdict of GUILTY ! < • ;^*I*h'e sentence was soon pronounced, which was to this effect, viz. that I should stand one hour in the pillory, and remain thre^ years confined to the house of correction, without the corporal punishment which generally is in^? flicted on those who are sentenced to said house. Gla- zier Wheeler's sentence was the same, excepting an ad- dition of twenty^ stripes, and to be Cropt. Jones was sen- t^n^ecf -fe)^ two.-yefars to the house of correction, and twenty stripes. .Cook, for burglary, was sentenced for two years to the house of correction, an hour in the pillory, and ten stripes. I was remanded to jaU^here to contemplate the gloomy prospect before , me, offending three years in a state pf close confinement. I expected this state of imprison- ment would be in the common jail of the county, therp being no other house of correction provided. Here the horrors of my situation began to open to my view i I saw an eternity in miniature before me, consisting of one con- tinued scene of gloomy horrors. Shut from the enjoy- ment of society, from performing a part among the rest of my fellow piortals, to make some establishment for my- self, in this state of dependance ; and from tasting the sweets of liberty, for vv^hich we had so lately fought and bled. How is this, said I to myself, that a country which has stood the foremost in asserting the cause of liberty, that those who have tasted the bitter cup of slavery, and have known from hence the value of liberty, should so soon af- ter obtaining that blessing themselves; deprive '•©ihers of STEPHEN BU=RROUGHS, 105 it ? I know that it will be said, that, for my crimes I am deprived of liberty, whicli is accoi'ding to every dictate of justice ; whereas America was only struggling for her natural rights, when exercising the principles of virtue. I have no idea of calling in question the justice of the American cause, but only advert to the situation and feel- ings of the people in this state, to shew that they feeling- ly knew the value of liberty ; and therefore, it appears more strange that they should wantonly trifle with this valuable treasure. It has been abundantly said by the leading men in this state, that life Avithout liberty is not worth the possessing. This was abundantly urged to the" people in time of the war ; and it was urged with great truth and propriety ; therefore, that the same characters, upon a revision of the criminal code, with a pretence of mollifying those laws wliich were sanguinary and cruel, should substitute slavery for death, is to me, conduct truly enigmatical. As this narrative will not admit of entering into a politi- cal disquisilion of the subject, I shall content myself with barely stating facts, which have abundantly come to my knowledge, from seeing the operation of this system of servitude upon men. These facts I shall relate from time to time, as they naturally connect with the narrative ; and I presume, sir, you will think w^th me, that political reasoning strongly marked this legislative act. CHAP. XV. " Deluge and conflagration, dreadful poWers ! *' Prime Ministers of vengeance ! chain'd in caves " Distinct, apart the giant furies roar ; ** Apart ; or such their hon-id rage for ruin, *' In mutual conflict would they rise, and wage *• Eternal war, tiU one was quite (icAoured." T. HE evening after my sentence, the prisoners in the room adjoining were endeavoring to make their escape. Their attempt was overheard by the jailor, who came into the room where I was, about 12 o'clock at fiight, with the 106 MEMOIRS OF high sheriff, who, with his drawn sword, threatened to put me to instant death for making the attempt to break jail. The cold contempt with which I treated his threats stung him to the quick ; he lowered on me with an eye of ma- Ugnancy. He cried, " ah ha ! Burroughs, you are in my power,, and I'll make you know it before I have done with you.'* He by this time had learned his mistake, by hear- ing the prisoners in the other room crawling out of the holje which they had made. This circumstance serves to shew the prejudice which the high sheriff had conceived against me, by his concluding, without the least evidence, that I was making an attempt to break jail ; however, this I found was a pretty general opinion among people at this time, that I must be conversant in every species of out- rage which was going forward, and consequently, when any thing of that nature was known to be on foot, they were very confident of my being interested in it. It was thought that the jail in Springfield was insuffici- ent to hold me . securely, and therefore concluded to re- move me to the jail in Northampton, another half-shire town in this county ; they accordingly put this determina- tion in-execution, removing all the prisoners at the same time. I was confined with a large chain around my legs, secured in the most critical manner, and then bound fast to the waggon in which I was transported, it being twenty -miles between the two places In this situation, carried through the country as a spectacle to the inhabitants, I will not attempt to describe to you my feelings, because I know the attempt will be in vain. There is a language of the hear: which we cannot express, it so far exceeds the descriptive powers of speech ; yet, by comparing our own feelings in different situations, we may give the nearest guess what oiir feelings would be under other circum-. stances ; and hence by this rule only, can you judge of my sensations* upon this voyage to Northampton. It was on Sunday when we were carried through the counCry, on our journey to Northampton ; and in the room of attending the usual solemnities of the day, people thronged the roads to see this procession. When we pas- Bed, the people would inquire mtb eageraessj who w^s the STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 107 minister, being kno^vn inore by that appellation than I was by my ovm name. When the minister was pointed out ta them, some would shout with joy, considering that I was now detet ted, notwithstanding that amazing fund of subtilty which I could use when I had occasion. Theii* ideas of their own judiciary became highly exalted in their opinion; for, said they, " this man has been all over the world, pljiy- ing pranks in all countries, but could never be brought to justice, owing to his amazing subtilty. Until he came among us, and we have shewed him what is what : he finds by this time, that we are not such fools as he thought for." Some examined my looks with great attention, Jo see if they could distinguish where that depth of knowledge lay which had set the world in an uproar. Some few dropped the sympathetic tear over our wretched state, apparently sensible that we belonged to the same human family with themselves, and were capable of suffering equally with others. • > About sunset we arrived at Northampton, and were con- signed to the abodes of misery. The ponderous doors growled on their rfiluctant hinges ! The rattling of bolts, bars and locks, reverberating through the hollow apart- ments of this dreary abode, made such an impression on my mind, that with difficulty I supported myself under this situation. The appearance of the Cerberus 6f these in- fernal abodes was equal to every poetic description of ihe Janitor of hell.^ Hail, ye infernal powers ! said I, who in- habit these regions ; assemble your forces, gather your strength, and keep high carnival to-day, in consideration of those victims which have now fallen a sacrifice at your shrine. I was confined in a room on the ground floor alone, and shut out from the possibility of seeing any company. This was a situation which left me to the corroding pangs of thought. However, these thoughts were, in the end, cal- culated to fortify me against impending troubles. I re- flected on my imprudence at the time of trial ; on the des- perate voyage I had undertaken for the sake of befriend- ing others ; on the consummate folly in our plans for wealth ; and upon the three years' siege I must no>^un- 108 MEMOIRS OF dertake a"gainst the walls of a prison. But, said I, wluit does it signify to complain ? The die is cast; my fate is fixed ; and at the close of three years, what will it matter, whether I have lived in affluence, or been confined in a dungeon ? Does it now militate against my happiness to think that yesterday or last week I was in a disagreeable situation? ,The present and future are the only times for enjoyment. The present blessings we have in our power, and consequently, can partake of every joy they grant : the future we possess by anticipation ; and it is thought by many, that the foretaste of pleasure by anticipation, is greater than the participation. At any rate, happiness is the pursuit of all, and it is evident that the nearer we can approach to a state of content, by the same proportion we approach to that happiness which we are in pursuit after ; of consequence, the dictates of wisdom will induce me to throw aside care and trouble, let my present situation be ever so disagreeable. Not long after I was confined in this jail, there was a man by the name of Rood put into the same room with me. This man had held a commissitwi in the military depart- ment of Massachusetts, and was an inhabitant of a neigh- boring town ; had a family consisting of a. wife and one daughter, a young woman in the bloom of life, and a pret- ty handsome figure. This man, by mistake, having taken some cattle not his own, and appropriated them to his own use, some people were so impolite as to charge him with theft. This charge was carried before the supi^me court, and there he was fined about seventy pounds, if I mistake not. As the circumstances of this Rood were somewhat embarrassed, he could not pay the fine which the court had laid upon him ; therefore, the pi'ospect was, that he must lie in jail a long time ; until he should be able to pay his fine, and this he had no apparent chance for doing. This man had a genius somewhat singular. His stature was about six feet. He had an upright bold look ; possessing a small share of learning. He was fond of using far-fetch- ed and hard sentences, in order to appear like a man of letters. He was very fond of using high sounding words, and had a most singular talent of palming himself upon STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 10'^ tlie vulgar for a man of real information. He was cun- ning, but not politic, sociable and amusing, but not edify- ing. Finding himself in ibis embarrassed situation, lieuten- ant Rood determined to oUricate himself by any means •which he should find in his power. As he was not pos- sessed with those delicate feelings of uprightness, which would subject him to a hurtful system of honesty, he de- termined to have recourse to any measure which would answer his purpose. We were soon joined by another, wlio w^as committed by the name of Warner ; but I believe his real name prov- ed to be Hutchins. This man was apprehended for pass- ing counterfeit bank bills, .us pur- poses. **"" ^ ' ^ Having this company, that eternal series of enn^i, which had hung like a leaden mountain upon me, was now in some measure removed. The privilege of conversation was iK)w restored, and amusement in some measure occu- pied our minds. When I have been debarred the privi- lege of seeing and conversing with crthers, the bare sight of a man has involuntarily and unaccounfibly raised a sen- sation of joy in my mind greater than you can easily con- ceive, even when I had not a possibility of speaking to him. This, I think, is a sti^ong evidence that we are all descend- ed from one common origin, and that a certain ^tiraction of cohesion operates upon the human race,. and will so con- tinue till we all return to that fountain from whence we originated, and form an union as perfect as is formed be- tweeq the river and the ocean when their waters becomo one. K 1 10 MEMOIRS OF The scanty allowance of provision which we received at this place, made us feel severely the pains of hunger. Those who had friends near them, commonly received an additional supply from them ; but those who had only what our keeper allowed us, to supply the calls of nature, often felt the griping hand of hunger, in addition to other in- conveniences. All these circumstances made me feel an inconceivable uneasiness at my confinement. I would walk backward and forward across the room by the whole day together, ruminating upon the possibility of making my escape. How I longed to be at liberty, is beyond my powxr to tell. Often would I wish that I was possessed with the ability of passing from place to place with the same facility that wc could discern objects at a distance, in this place and that place. How quick would I then leave these hate- ful abodes, and wanton in the sun-beams of liberty. How easily could I then elude the iron grasp of this petty ty- rant, who triumphs over the miseries of the wretched few under his control. Often would I contemplate upon the situation of the beggar, who gained his daily bread by the cold hand of charity, and yet walked at liberty, free as the air in wUich he breathed, capable of going to any place to which his fancy directs him, ^nthout let or hinJrance ; I compared his situation with mine, and in the comparison, I fell infinitely short of his state of happiness. I was determined to try some measure for my escape from this place. I peeped into ever}' corner of the room ; 1 surveyed all the barricadoeswith which I was environed; I contemplated evevy possible measure v.diich occurred to my imagination. I at last concluded to begin my ope- ration upon the chimney way, hoping that I could, by tak- ing up the foundation of the chimney, get to the ground, and by that mean undermine the jail, and make my escape that way. I laid the plan before Warner and Rood, for mutual consults lion and approbation. Warner, at once, entered into the scheme, and promised his assistance. Rood refused to lend his assistance, but encouraged us to proceed ; suggesting that the thing probably might be ac- complished. I soon saw into the drift of Rood. He de- termined to take advantage of our success, if we proved for- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 1 1 1 tunate ; if otherwise, he thought to exculpate himself by saying he had no part in the business. He had acted the part of a sycophant towards the jailor and the high sheriff from the time of his commitment, hoping through their intercession, to gain some alleviation from the couit of their sentence, at the next session. Notwithstanding the assistance of Rood was not to be expected, Warner and I were determined to make the at- tempt immediately after the approach of night, as that was the only time in which we could work, without an imme- diate detection. Therefore, after the time of reiiremcnt, we pulled off our coats, and went to work with a great de- gree of energy, upon the stones in the chimney. We soon almost filled our room with stones and i-ubbish. In this situation, we experienced great iticonveniences for the want of light, being obliged to have recourse to pine sliv- ers pealed off from a board, which kept one hand constant- ly employed in feeding the blaze, lest it should be extin- guished, which would at once defeat all our purposes. As 1 was the strongest of the two, I kept Warner feeding the light, whilst I labored like Sisyphus in rolling huge stones out of the chimney-way. Happy should 1 have thought myself at that time, if, Hercules like, I could have tunied the course of som£ mighty river under the jail, to have as- sisted me with its force, to sweep away those huge rocks. I labored and toiled witbout intermission, till about mid- night, when coming to a rock I could not possibly get out of the hole, I for a moment despaired of success, after straining with all my might a number of times to no effect. Rood, seeing the situation in w^hich matters stood, jumped out of bed, and helped to lift the stone from its place, and then returned agidn into bed. I again renewed my labor, and had overcome tiie greatest part of the difhcuilies be- fore us, when the light became extinct for ^vant of fuel, t !ie board being all consumed.' I tried to pursue the busi- iiess in the dark, but found it in vtdn, and therefore was obiigcd to quit our undertaking. How much would I now luive p.iven for a farthing candle I but wishes were as vain us cur expectations were unfounded. The necessity of our relinquishirig the pursuit was £.bsoluie, and therefore, n: MEMOIRS OF Nvith sullen reluctance, I yielded to the force of necessity. T did not entirely lose all hopes of succeedin.fj yet by this method. As soon as day light should afford an opportu- nity, I determined to renc^v my labor, and if by good for- tune our Cerberus should not make us a visit till some time in the morning-, I was still in hopes of making the breach soon enough to leave him to his own agreeable re- flections, when he came to search our room, which he con- stantly did every day. Therefore, at the dawn of day, I again renewed my labor with increased animation, I struggled and toiled with the huge rocks in such a man- ner as to establish the belief, that in the course of an hour I should again flit upon the wing of liberty. But O 1 horrid to relate I the thundering noise of the jailor, in opening his ponderous doors, throwing back the many bolts, and turning the keys of the enormous locks, at once 'defeated all my expectations of freedom. The mighty castles which I had been building in the air, came tumbling over my head like a sweeping deluge. The jailor came into the room, and what was the scene pictured to his view ? Rubbish, rocks, stones and dirt fill- ed the room ! Two men almost naked, covered with sweat and dust! The door was again immediately shut, and the jailor re- tired, but his absence was almost momentary. He return- ed with a band of flinty hearted myrmidons to assist in the diabolical system of revenge. We* were taken by those patrons of humanity, tied to the grates, and received ten lashes each, on our naked backs, with a horse-whip. Im- mediately after this, we were put in the dungeon, where we lay two days, and were then removed to another room. The day after we were confined in the dungeon, the high slieriiT '^.ame to the j:ul, and threatened to put Rood into the dunp;eon with us; this threat had the desired ef- fect. Rood declared he had given no aid, assistance, or advice in the business of brealdng the jail, but on the con- trary, used all the arguments and entreaties to induce us to desist, v/hich were in Ids power : and moreover, said he, " when I saw they would not give up the attempt, I * Warner and myself. blLPHEX BURROUGHS. li - got out Oi my bed, and wcni to the -window, in order to call the jailor, but when Burroughs saw what I was about, lie came' up to me with iiis penkniie, and threatened to stab me it I proceeded ; therefore, I was obliged to de- sist." This conversation happened to take place where I over- heard it all. I called to Rood, in the midst of it, and in- formed him that he was a liar, that he had, in reality, been ;dding and assisting in our efforts for breakinp: the jail ; that had he conducted with ingenuousness in the business, 1 should have been Avilling to have him exculpated from blame ; but when he manifested a disposition to heap ad- ditional censure upon me, for the sake of making himself stand high in the opinion of others, I supposed it a just tribute to my ov/n vindication, to set matters relating to him in their true light. This I expected would be heard by the high-sheriff' likewise, as they two were in conver- sation together ; and my main object in making this de- claration at this time, was to prevent Rood from building himself up in the opinion of the sheriff, at my expense. When Rood found I had detected him in his duplicity, lie entreated the sheriff to put him into a room separate from me ; dreading, as I suppose, my just vengeance up- on him, for his perfidious conduct. He promised on this condition, to give information concerning any attempt of the prisoners to break jail. He was, of consequence, put into another room. The second day of my confinement, nearly night, I heard a terrible clanking of massy chains; approaching to- wards my apartment. The door of the dungeon was open- ed, when lo I horrid to relate I a deformed Vulcan* at- tended with his grisly Cyclops,! carrying with them a huge iron chain, and all the tools for their infernal pur- pose 1 I was ordered into another apartment, and to work went those engines of cruelty. They in the first place, made fast a flat ring around my leg, about six inches wide and an inch thick. This was connected with a chain weighing about 36lb.'^and ten feet in length. The othe" * A Blacksmith, -j- A joimieAiunn Blacksinith. k2 ll'i MEMOIRS OF end of the cliain was fastened to the timber ccniposiii;]^ our floor, with a staple driven in with a sledg-e, which made the whole jail tremble. After Lwas fixed in this manner, they left me to my own reflections, inwardly ex- ulting at their mighty power, in makincj a poor v»^retch se- cure from enjoying the cold comfort of hoping for better times. O ! ruthless mortals ! said I, why so infatuated I Am Jiot I a member of the same fomily with yourselves ? Am 7"!0t I capable of suffering the same woes with others ? Place yourselves in my situation for a moment, and ti y to 3'cgale your feelings in such a condition. Even suppose a brother, a child, or any near relative, or fi'iend, in my situation ; would you conduct towards him as you now do icvvards me, vvho am a stranger among you ? Surely you •'.vculd not. Does not the language of nature, do not the principles of that benevolent religion of which you make so great profession, teach you to treat the stranger with kindness ? How then is it that you phich me with hunger, mangle me with whips, confine me in a dungeon, Sec. as though you envied me the enjoyment of the liberty of v/alking a room of twenty-feet square ? You have confined me to a space of half that dimension ; and this confine- ment too performed in the most cruel manner. Would any of you, who are walking at your ease, enjoying the sunshine of liberty, if placed in my situation, lie down tam.ely under the burden, and not exert yourselves for freedom, when you possessed a faint ray of hope, that you may obtain it by exertion ? You who have never felt the burden of confinement, can have but a faint idea of its na- ture ; hence, you esteem it as it feels to you, and treat those who are under its pressure, according to your feel- ings. 1 lay in this dismal situation about a fortnight, if I re- member right. My leg, by this time, was worn by the iron around it, till the skin was quite off. In this situa- tion, I became entirely impatient. My sufferings I thought insupportable. I cursed the day in which I was born. I cursed my friends and all the human race, in the bitter- ness of my anguish I Well was it for Warner, that I was STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 11 J connned v,ith a drain, at that time, lest haply I shciikl have vented my rar^e on him in the overflov/in^ ofny dis- tress. I roared with anguish I I raged like a Bediumite 1 The obdurate heart of my Cerberus was not moved by my situation ; he was terrified and durst not approucti m.e. Yet that adamantine barrier which fortified the avenues to his soul, from the approaches of coirjpassion, remained entirely unimpaired, and prevented the least motion of pity from disturbing his repose. There are certain situ-jp ations of suficring which will make a man mad ; will take away every exercise of rational conduct ; will reduce him to a state of desperation ; so that he will rush into the most desperate danger. This was my situation at this time. I was deternnined not to endure these trials any longer ; and, in the language of the poet, to end them *' by taking arms against myself, and all my woes at once." i ruminated upon the means of accomplishing this de- sign. \'arious wer« the plans which offered to my view, but none appeared so eligible to answer the state of tny mind, as the terrible element of ftve. Therefore, I de- termined to set fire to the jail, and Sampson-like, make a sacrifice at my death, which should atone for the cruelties I had suffered in my life 1 ! 1 The flooring of the jail was laid with two thicknesses of timber, each thickness being about fourteen inches, and over these timbers, a floor of inch boards. The boards ■which composed the floor I cut away, in such a manner as to be able to take up a piece about two feet long ; the cracks between the timbers were about two inches wide, into which I dropped coals of fire, which fell down to the ground, twenty-eight inches below the floor, among shav- ings and other combustible stuff. The air drawing in strongly, at the place where the fire was, it soon began to rage with great violence. I replaced the board in its for- raer situation ; placed my straw, v/hich served for my bed, on the board, and lay down with great composure, viewing my sufferings as fast hastening to an end. The floor being so tight as not to admit the blaze into the room, it sought a passage elsewhere, and soon burst out, through the underpinning and blazed up to the height 116 MEMOIRS OF of the caves of the jail, about tweiity-feci! ibis v/as a scene possessing more of tlie horrid sublime than any tiling I ever met with during my life. At the dead hour of night, v/hen all nature was lost in forgetfulness, as Young emphatically expresses it, " Night, sable g-oddcss ! from licr ebon throne, ** In rayless majesty, now stretclics forth ** Her leaden sccpti"e o'er a slumbering world ; " Silence, how dead ! and darkness, how jirofound I " Nor eye, nor lislcninsic car, an object finds : *' Creation sleeps. 'I'ls as the general pulse " Of life stood still, and nature made a pause, ** An awful pause I prophetic of her end. *' And let her prophecy be soon fulfdl'd ; *' Fate ! drop the curtain ! I can lose no moi-e." In this situation, to see columns of smoke and fire roll- ing up with a majestic power, enveloping me around, was a scene which surpasses all description I I viewed the op- eration of the flames with a tranquil horror ! I now felt myself exalted above the operations of the petty tyranny of those who had exercised the rod of severity over me. Your reign, said I, will be short, and I shall not fall alto- gether unrevenged. It may serve as a memento to oth- ers, not to drive those to desperation, who have the mis- fortune to fall under their power. I soon found that the fire had loosened the staple, which confined my chain to the floor ; therefore, I was at liberty to walk from one end of the room to the other, contem- plating the progress of this dreadful devouring element. By this time, the prisoners in the room over head were awakened, alarmed, and began to cry out for help. The jailor w^as aroused, the inhabitants gathered, and the bolts, bars, and locks, were in motion. They immediate- ly came into my room, and finding me loose, conveyed me into the dungeon. Whilst I v»'as in the dungeon, I heard the bustle among the people, in putting out the fire. From the exclama- tions of some, I thought the danger increased, and from the operation of others, I thought it diminished. My Toind was wavering between hope and fear, till about -i STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 117 o'clock in the morning, when I found the noise decreased until it became entirely silent. I now concluded they had subdued the fire, and of course, I should be called to an account as disagreeable, as when I attempted to break jail. The scene following, of all the scenes of my life, strikes my mind with the most distress in relating. To paint it according to the existence of facts, and the sensations aris- ing from those facts, is an arduous task, too great for me to undertake, till I have refreshed nature with a little re- laxation by sleep, and application to other objects, which will turn my mind a while from the disgust which the contemplation of this subject creates. Therefore, sir, ac- cept my sincere wish for your welfare, my desire that you may never taste that cup of adversity, w^iich I have drain- ed to the dregs. I am, dear sir, S^c. CHAP. XVI. 'TIs only change of pain. " A bitter chang-e ! severer for severe , " The day too short for my distress ! and night, *' E'en in the zenith of her dark domain, " Is sunshine to the color of n.y fute." J\.T 9 o'clock in the morning, I heard the usual tumult at entering the outer door of the jail. I saw a crowd were entering and passing along the alley-way, previous to their coming to the dungeon door ! The door opened ! The high sheriff, jailor, and about twenty more, entered ! I saw by the appearance of things, that I must prepare for the worst possible event. The sheriff advanced with a cock- ed pistol, w^hich he presented to my breast, and swore by God, that if I offered to resi^^t, he would put me to instant death. Ke had an idea that I had become desperate, and Vrould sacrifice my ov»n life for the sake of ridding mvsel/ from the misery I was under, and obtaining revenge for the injuries I had suffered. I called him a despicable, cov/ardly wretch, to advance upon a poor, helpless,* unarmed man, in the manner lie 118 MEMOIRS OF assumed. I told him I placed his utmost malice at defi- ance, and challenged him to do his worst. I told him I expected every thing base and cruel from him, ever sensi- ble that the ignoble spirit which possessed a coward, led to cruelty and barbarity. That I had been punished igno- bly once, for nothing ; and therefore, I determined he should have something for his next attempt which should make his cowardly soul tremble* with fearful apprehension. He ordered his posse to advance and seize me. They advanced and laid hold of me. As soon as they had made me secure, the sheriff took hold of my hand and twisted it round, so as to make the pain veiy sensible. I thought he would have wrung my arm off my shoulder. I was led out of jail in this manner, into the yard. I was then tied fast to the grates, and stripped naked. The reason why I was carried into the yard was, that this mild distributor of justice might have a better opportunity to give his whip full scope, without impediment. He im- proved his opportunity, and with a whip, commonly known by the name of hunting-whip, he laid about me with all his vengeance, for about five minutes. I then was taken down, and Warner put in my place, who received twenty lashes. We were then rc-conveyed into the dungeon ; when I was loosed from the iron I had about my leg, and in lieu of that, a large ring was put about each leg, with an iron bar running from one to the other. This bar was bolted to the floor. I tlien had an iron about my waist, and bolted to the floor : after all, I was hand-cuffed and pinioned The sheriff tlien came to take his farewell, and parted with some hearty curses for my incorrigible conduct. The curses he received back again with interest. I was now left to myjielf, a gloomy spectacle of helpless misery, 'i'his was in the month of December, in the year 1785, a remarkable cold month ; and my confinement in this situ- ation continued until January, 1786, being thirty-two days in the vrhole. Here I was deprived of fire, of clothing and exercise, till the time was nearly expired ; and even the pitiful allcw.mce of straw to lie on : but all this wi\s noth- ing, compared with what I suffered with hunger. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 1 1 9 Those who know the cruel effects of hunger, are the only people who can understand me when I relate these facts. But fev/ people have ever felt its effects ; there- fore, should I relate this story to people in general, not many would know what I meant. I had not been in this situation many days, before I be- gan to experience the severe effects of the cold. As I could not stand, walk nor step, the only recourse I had to keep my feet from freezing, was rubbing them against an iron spike, a little from my feet, perhaps three inches ; which had either never been driven into the floor entirely, or else had started back by some mean, the space of about four inches. This I wore very smooth with a perpetual friction. No person was allowed barely to look through the little aperture into the dungeon. This little hole was secured by a door, so as to hide every object from our sight. About the seventh or eighth day after my confinement in this pandimonium, the pains of hunger became excru- ciating. Gladly would I have eaten my own flesh. I even had a hankering desire to get the excrements out of the vault, but that v/as out of my power. All my thoughts were occupied upon victuals. I could not conceive what I had been about through life, that I had not eaten more when I had the opportunity. I could not possibly con- ceive of the idea of a man satisfied with eating. That a man could be glutted with food, so as to loath it, was a fact established in my mind, by my own experience ; yet, at this time, I could not believe it ; indeed, I thought I knew to the contrary. Had I been possessed of an empire at this time, I should have parted with it in a moment, for a supply of food for the present necessity. It is said that hunger will break through a stone wall, but I say that hun- ger will carry a man the greatest length of any thing in nature, it destroys the feelings of humanity, and makes a man a savage. It begets in his nature a ferocious feel- ing, which assimulates him more to the tyger than to a being possessing the milk of human kindness ; therefore, take the mildest couple that ever lived, reduce them by famine to a state of extremity, and you will see the fond husband tearing from his beloved partner the food upon 120 MEMOIRS OF which her existence depends. Nay more, you will see, in this situation, the tender mother refusing her dying in- fant the smallest pittance of sustenance to its expiring en- treaties ! Must not the mind of sensibility shrink with horror at a sight so dreadful ? And this have I experienced in a land of Christianity ! A land where great professions of human- ity and christivin benevolence have been made I In charity to the inhabitants, I now believe they did not know the ex- tremity of my sufferings. At that time I did believe it, and that they concurred in the business; but 1 know my situation did not admit of cool reflection and candid rea- soning upon the subject. I begged, I entreated of the keeper of these infernal abodes, for bread, but my entrea- ties were given to the winds. I raved, I swore, I tore, cursed and lamented ; but all did not move his obdurate feelings. After the fifteenth day, the rage of hunger be- gan to subside. Nature, tired with the struggle, gave way, and began her retreat. I grew faint and sick. There was a gloom hung over me, which is entirely inexpressi- ble. Nothing did I ever feel of the kind before or since; and how to describe it to you now, I am entirely at a loss. I know if I undertake, I shall not succeed in giving you an image of the most distant resemblance, r I grew sick of life ; 1 hated the idea of ever mixing again with tlie world ; I wished for death with an impa- tient ardor. There is a situation, sir, when life is no more sweet. There are circumstances, under which life be- comes a burden, and is no longer desirable. This was my situ-ition. I began to console myself with the hope that my miseries would soon have an end in the arms of death. The approach of this grim tyrant rrow was the most pleasing object of my contemplation. Here I found a balm for all my wounds. ^^ To rest from my labors'* in this world, was the height of my wishes. Here was a pleasure in the prospect which assuaged the rage of my pain, and calmed the boisterous emotions of my mind. I had now become emaciated to a skeleton. My beard had not been cut, during the time of my being in the dun- geon J hence it was about two inches long. My hair had STEPHEN BUUROUGHS. 12 i not been combed, which stood in every direction. From these circumstances, I had more the appearance of some savage bea§t of the forest, than any thing appertaining to the human species. I now looked for the speedy end of my toils. I found my strength daily decreasing, and con- cluded that nature must soon march out of her fortress, and give entire possession to the king of (errors. Matters being in this situation, one morning about 1 1 o'clock, I heard the outer door of the jail loosed from ii s bolts and bars. The door looking through the little aper- ture into the dungeon was opened, and the name of Bur- roughs was vociferated by the jailor. *-Vov him to have any business with me at that time of the day, was what had not happened for thirty-tv/o days before, arid what could be his business now, 1 could not conceive. The ob- jects of life were so far out of my view, that I thought at first to pay no attention to this call, but upon more mature reflection, I i-ose up as far as I was able, and looked through the little hole. I there saw a man whom I did not reco^- nise, a stranger. He called me by my christian name, when he spoke to me. Who it was addressing me thus familiarly I could not tell. I told him he had the advan- tage of being unknown to me, while I was known to him. He asked me if 1 did not know my uncle ? I surveyed him ^vith some attention, and at length saw he was my moth- er's oldest brother. He appeared to examine my condition with as much attention as his situation would admit of. He entered in- to some general observations upon the nature of my folly in setting the jail on fire, and attempting to break out. He lamented the distressed situation in which he found me, and handed me two dollars to supply my piesent ne- cessities. He then retired. Immediately after tiiis, the jailor's wife came into the alley, and told me if I wanted any victuals she would sup- ply me with it. How this declaiation sounded in my ears, you will more readily conceive than I can describe. To have a prospect of a speedy supply of food, again recalled the desire of life. My feelings were in arms, and all the vigor of desire was again rekindled in my bosom. I toM L J-^ MEMOIRS OF her I wished for something to eat immediately ; and on he I- informing there was nothing ready dressed, I besought her to fetch me some bread, that I might be eating, whilst she was making ready something else. She brought lue ;; brown loaf weighing about four pounds.* V/ith what pleasure did I view -this precious morsel approiching me. I half devoured it with my eyes before I got hold of it. How sweet was the taste ! how exqui- site the pleasure 1 Warner laid hold of the loaf and tore away about half the contents. Yes, said I, thou fellow sufferer ! eat and be satisfied i the day of bitterness is over, we have the promise again of food sufficient to sup- ply the calls of nature ! The bread was almost instantly gone, but the cries of hunger were not appeased. Soon however the wife of the j iilor came with strong tea and toast. I was astonish- ed she brought so little, but she understood my situation better than I did myself We eat up the recruit of food in a moment. I entreated for more, but could not obtain, it, under near an hour. When I had received my third portion, and we had eaten it, Vv arner began to experience terrible pains in his bowels, and I thought, for some time, he must have expired under the operation. The same characters who had made their appearance when I was bound in the manner described, now entered the dungeon again, and to work went hammers and files, and in about half an hour I was freed from the terrible load of iron under which I had groaned for thirty-two days. When I was liberated from these irons, I had almost lost the use of my limbs ; my feet would hardly answer my desire for walking ; for both of them had been touched with frost, and the irons on one of my legs had been put on so tight as to cause a swelling, which ended in a sore ♦ For humanity's sake, however, it is to be wislied that this good woman had offered her starving prisoner food, before he had i-eceived the uvo dollars ! Xotwithstunding- his aggravated crimes, and iiTitating conduct, there is no question but BuiTOUglis receiv- ed punishment far exceeding his deserts. And the savage treat- ment he met uitli, particularly in this prison, is enough to make one blush for the christian naipe ! STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 12 J about six inches long, and which has never yet gotten en- tirely well. I was removed out of the dungeon into an upper room, which was much more comfortable than the one I had first occupied. Here I received food as often as once in three liours, through the next day. Yet I could not be satisfied ; my appetite was keen as ever, even when I was so full as to prevent me from swallowing more. This continued to be the case for the space of a fortnight longer, when I found my appetite regulated upon the common scale of eating. At this time, my uncle wrote the following letter to my father, giving him some account of my situation in North- ampton jail. , Charlton^ January 7tli^ \7Q6. ^ BELOVED BROfHER AND SISfER, •■^ I have been at Northampton twice within this month past; visited your son Stephen each time. The first time, I found him chained down in the dungeon, for attempting to burn the jail ; and also for attempting, at another time, to dig through the chimney. I expostulated with him, with regard to his former conduct, endeavoring to shew him his folly in trying to break and burn the jail. I ob- tained a promise that he should be let out of the dungeon. The second time I was there, which was this week, I found him in the common prison unchained. I found him very needy each time, and particularly the first, his allow- ance being veiy short. I let him have two dollars ihe first time, which I believe he made a good use of ; the second time I found him destitute of a shirt ; I got him a new one, and let him have tliirteen and four pence in cash. '' As I am in a few days going to the General Assembly in Boston, it is not likely I shall see him again until spring, although I have lately been in something of a habit of vis- iting at Northampton. Being in haste and the bearer in waiting, shall only subjoin, that I am your loving brother, EBENEZER DAVIS, Rev. E. Burroughs." 1-24. MEMOIRS OF After the receipt of this letter, my father wrote to an acquaintance ofiiis in Northampton, by the name of Strong, to p-iv some attention to my needs, afford me what my ne- eesbities called for, and draw iipor> him for the amount of cxpenocs incurred. By some strange fatality, when this letter arrived, cap- tain Strong either thought, or wished people to believe he thought it a forgery of mine. He paid no attention to it ; and tiie report was soon circulated, that I had forged a letter in my father's name and sent it to captain Strong ; and ev€a at a very modern period, a gentleman of some eminence, from Northampton, has repeated this false re- port, ij> those places where he knew it must be attended with very disagreeable consequences to me. And now, sir, permit me to digress a moment from the course of tiie narrative, and offer a few remarks upon the very singular scenes through which I passed in this jail. As you, sir, have been long in the practice of the law, you v\ ill more readily conceive of the illegality of these trans- actions. The fundamental principles upon which our liberties and privileges are founded, are the trial by jury, that na un- natural and cruel punishments shall be inflicted, and that i\ pei"son- shall never be punished, but by due course of law. I'bese leading principles, I believe, are never to be deviat- ed from, except in case of rebellion, when the state is in danger ; then martial law may operate ; and even when martial law has its operation, it is necessary to have mat- ters of fact esLabiislied by evidence, and the voice of a ma- iority of three, at least, to v/arrant a punishment. In the jyunishnients inflicted on me, none of these preliminaries have been attended to, but I have been subjecicd to the ar- Mtn'.rv will of a petty tyrant. He punished when his in- cjinittion was for cruelty, and inflicted what kind his pieas- me directed. It may be urged, that I hud made myself iiabie to punishment, by my conduct in jail. This being supposed, which 1 by no means believe ; yet, to punish ine without a legal trial, was as ubsolutelycontrary to every tiictate of law and justice, as though I had been in fact in- nocent, it may further be s&id, that my sentence con&n- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 1::^ ing me to the liouse cf correction, made me liable to the punishment of the mrvster of the house at his disci etion. If this be the case, we take away from one class of citi- zens a right, which \ve have very justly been tenacious of, and have subjected them to a state of as abject slaveiy,as the Negroes in the West-Indies. And even if this doc- trine is well founded, yet the injustice of their conduct will receive no extenuation ; for Wanier was punished equal in kind, though not in quantity with myself, although he was only committed for trial, and of course must be in- nocent in the eye of the law, until he should be convicted. As the narrative will not admit of treating this business largely, I have given you only the leading ideas, which possess my mind upon the subject, knowing your ability to state them in your o^\-n view, much more clearly and logically than what I shall do. About this time Philips, of whom you have heard men- tion, was committed to this jail, and lodged in the room where I was first confined ; likewise one Hinds was lodg- ed in the room where I now was. This Hinds vvas com- mitted for adultery with the wife of one Wallace, and the woman herself was kept in the common dwelling house of the jailor. One Norton, who was charged v,ith the murder of a man by the name of Brown, was committed about this time, and confined in the dungeon. It appear- ed from all the information I could gather, that the cir- cumstances of this business were of the followhig nature, viz. Norton being a house-joiner, was on a new building laying shingles, when Bro^vn came by, and in a playful manner, threw stubble at Norton a number of times, which impeded him in his work. Norton was a man hasty and petulant in his temiper. He told Brov/n if he did not de- sist, he would come down and give him a ficgging. This threat induced Brown to continue his folly v/ith more ea- gerness, to shew that he did not regard Norton's threat. With this, Norton immediately descended the ladder, came up to Brown, and a scuflie ensued. Some blows passed ; at length Norton gave Brown an unlucky suohe, afte:- which he never breathed again. L 2 126 MEMOIRS OF Xorton seeing that Brown v.as absolutely de^d, made his escape, and left the country. He had been absent about twelve months, when he became known in some part of Connecticut, where he resided, and was apprehended and brought to Northampton for trial. I'rom experiencing- the treatment I had received in this p!:^-cc, I had, through mistake, formed an idea that Norton v^Guld have no chance for justice at the time of his trial ; I faui-id likewise he entertained the same idea of this matter himself. I sincerely wished him out of their hands, and felt v/illing to yield him any -iissistance which was in my power. Miitters were in this situation when, one night about 12 o'clock, I heard a whisper as though it came from out of t;:c room, calling me by name. I sprang up and ran to thtf window, but found the voice did not come from there. I then ran to the door, but there again was disappointed. ^Vhere the noise came from I could not conjecture, which btili continued. I at last bethought me of the pump, lead- ing into the vault, under the jail. I ran, and uncovering the pump, could easily distinguish the voice of Norton, who had gotten down into the vault. He intreated rae to let him have a knife, for " by that," said he, " I can make my escape." Had it been a diadem, for aught I knoAV, I should hp.ve parted with it, to have assisted him at this mo- ment. I took the knife, and tied it to a string, and let it down. I then covered the pump, lay down, and reflected with a greiit degree of pleasure upon my affording somei small, assistance to befriend a human being whom I never saw. Truly, said T, this conduct has been guided by the prhrciples of philanthropy. I soon fell into a sound sleep : my slumber was refreshing and sweet : I felt entirely at peace v» ith myself, under the fullest conviction I had acted ixcording to the plan of the good Samaritan. I did not know that any in the room were awake at this lime j there- fore, I thought myself the only person possessed of this secret. The next day. Hinds was taken out of the room where I was, and let into the alley with the woman, for a criminal connexion with whom he was confined. They remained together about an hour, v, hen he was put back. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 127 into the room v.here I was. Soon after, I heard a r.iim- ber of people cntermg- the outer door of the jail, and the clanking of chains, us thou.L^h some infernal purpose was in agitation 1 listened with attention, and soon heard the dungeon door open ; when, to my surprise, they cried out that Norton was gone. I did not expect he would so scoii have made his escape ; and now felt the exultation of joy on account of his success. My joy was soon damped, by hearing another voice, soon after, crying out, "here he is ! here he is 1", Norton, at this time, was so busy at work in the vault, that he never heard any of the uproar, until a youngster, putting his head dov»n into the hole he had made, saw him at work. They soon got him up and made him fast in irons : af- ter this, they came into my room, took me out, carried me into the room where I was formerly confined, and there made me fast with my old chain. Here were Phil- ips and Warner. Soon after the jailor had left us, I began to discover the amazing ability for contrivance which Philips possessed. He freed me from my irons in ten minutes. We then all went to work to make the hole larger through our pump into the vault under the jail. This we effected, to my surprise, in the space of about six hours, so that a man, when stripped naked, could let himself down through it into the vault This hole was made in such a manner as entirely to secure it from the observation of those who perpetually searched the jail. Even should they examine the hole itself, they would not discover its being otherwise than what it was originally, so perfect was Philips master of what he undertook, of such a nature. "We wrought with assiduity all the night following, and had made such progress in digging out, that we arrived at the stones of the underpinning of the jail, they being sunk about four feet into the earth. The prisoners in tlie room out of which I was taken, and especially Hinds, were of opinion they heard a noise on the night that we were at work in the vault ; but the other prisoners suspecting how the case really was, and being somewhat jealous of Hinds, endeavored to persiiade hira that it was a matter of mere conjecture, not founded hi reality. 128 MEMOIRS OF The next da^, I found Hinds and his paramour were put into the alley to.^ether, as formerly. Placing myself in a situation were I could hear their conversation, I became acquainted with a very singular and curious circumstance, viz. that Hinds had entered into an agreement to discover whatever plan should be in agitation for the purpose of breaking the jail, and was to receive, as a compensation, liberty to be alone v, ith his Miss one hour in the course of every day. That in consequence of this agreement, he had given information of my helping Norton to my knife, and tiiat he was about breaking jail. In consequence of which information, Norton M^as discovered, and I was again confined in irons. Hinds told his prostitute, that he had heard the noise of somebody digging, and believed Norton was attempting to break out again. This noise, said he, continued through the whole night. After this interview, they were both replaced in their former situation. Soon after this, the jailor, and a number with him, made a visit to the dungeon ; carrying lights with them, in or- der to search every hole and corner. After about an hour's investigation, they gave up the pursuit as fruitless ; con- cluding that Hinds was mistaken in his conjecture, or else the breach was made in another room. They therefore came into the room where I was confined, and after search- ing some time, concluded some mistake must have exist- ed with regard to the conjecture of Hinds. The jailor even looked into our pump, and could discover no manner of breach which we had made : however, he thought that the hole was so large, as possibly to admit a small boy down it ; and therefore determined he would make it more secure. You will naturally ask the question, with regard to my irons, whether this was not a suspicious circumstance, as well as the noise ? This business was fixed equally secure with the other. After I had been liberated from my irons by Philips, he made them answer a number of other pur- poses in the prosecution of his plans ; and likewise pre- pared them in such a manner, that I could slip them on my leg in half a minute, so as to wear the appearance of remaining closely chaineci : this I always did when I heard STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 129 the jailor entering, so that by this mean I remained undis- covered. After the search was over, I called to one of the prison- ers in the room with Hinds, Grinold by name, who was a person holding such conduct as Hinds had been guilty of in the utmost abhorrence, and related to him a simple ac- count of facts respecting Hinds. Grinold immediately began an altercation with Hinds ; they soon proceeded to blows— and Hinds, who was as great a coward as he was a villain, soon cried enough ; but this subterfuge did not an- ssver his purpose. Grinold still continued to beat him, al- ledging that such conduct as Hinds w^as guilty of did not entitle him to the common usage under such circum- stances. In the afternoon, the jailor came into my room, and the blacksmith with him ; and after taking up our pump, plac- ed two bars of iron over the hole, and spiked them to the timber This, I thought, was an efTecin'-il security against our ever again getting iiuo the vault. But no sooner was the jailor gone, than Philips shewed me how mistaken I was in my conjectures. Not more than six minutes after their departure, before we had all the irons loosed from their place ; and that was effected in this manner, viz. We took the chain that was around my leg, and put it under one of the iron bars, and fetching it round, fastened it together over the bar, with a key made of one of the links. Alter this was done, we took an oaken bench, about ten feet long, made of a slab, as much as four inches thick in the middle, and put the end oi this bench into the bite of the chain, placing it in such a manner as to gain a great purchase ; we lifted the b.ir in an instcuit, drawing out the spikes with ease. Immediately upon the setting in of night, we again went to work ; but had r^K. continued many minutes before tiie outer door of the jail operied, and in came a number of people, and passing our door, went up to the prisoners over head. Here Hinds had an opportunity of giving the hint to the jcdior, ihdt he had something to communicate to him. Therefore, after the people had finished their busi- ness witii the piiooncrs, the jailoi ipuk Kinds out into the 130 MEMOIRS OF alley, and there learned that we had broken again into the vault. Upon this information, the jailor came into the room, and removed all the prisoners into the dungeon, ex- cepting myself, being in irons, so securely confined, that he remained at ease wiih regard to me. After all matters were again settled, I silently let my- self out of irons, went down into the vault, and wrought hard all night. By morning I had dug through the un- derpinning, gotten out-side of the jail, and all that remain- ed now, was to break through the frozen ground, which was about eighteen inches, as I conjectured. I thought my operations through this night had been so silent, as to prevent a discovery from any one ; but I was mistaken. The least noise in the vault sounded strong through the pumps ; these being the only apertures through which the sound could escape ; therefore, its whole force was carried in one direction. In the morning, the jailor took Hinds out of the room, where he had left him the night before, having put him into a separate room from Grinold, for fear of a repetition of that chastisement which he had so largely tasted the day before ; and by him received information that some- body had been at work in the vault all night. After this information. Hinds was put back into the same room again, being a room-mate with Rood. About ten o'clock in the morning the jailor, attended with his blacksmiths, came into the dungeon, and remov- ed the prisoners back again into my room. They search- ed the dungeon with a great degree of care, to see whether the prisoners had broken through into the vault, but not finding any breach, they were at a loss to account for the report of Hinds, not conceiving it possible for me to be t]ie person, owing to my irons, Hov»'ever, after a while they came into my room, and searching the irons around my leg, they diiscovered the deception, seeing at once, witii what ease I could take my irons off my leg when I wished. '1 hey then searched the iron bars which had been spiked to the iioor, and found them pulled up. They looked at me with a stare of astonishment, not conceiving )iow it was possible for su;:h a thing to be effected with what tools we had. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 131 The blacksmith retired ; and in about an hour returned, bringing with him an iron bar of twice the magnitude of the former, and six spikes, about twelve inches in length, and ragged, in such a manner, as to prevent a bare possi- bility of their ever being drawn. This iron bar he placed across the hole, and with a heavy sledge, drove in the spikes, looking round exultingly on me, saying " Bur- roughs, if you get down here again, I'll come and take your place.** After he had driven in his spikes, and put all things in order, he came and examined my irons, fas- tened them on again, so as to prevent my getting loose, as he vainly boasted. I now lost all hopes of liberty, by that method which we had been pursuing, viewing it impossible ever to get the iron from across the hole, if I should get free from my irons around my leg ; but again I was taught to admire the vast ability of Philips ; for before the outer door of the jail was locked, I was freed from my irons, and the bar across the hole was torn away. This, was done while the jailor was shutting, bolting and locking the doors ; so that the noise which we made, might be so blended with his noise, that it should not be distinguished by the pris- oners over head, viz. Rood and Hinds, in such a manner as to lead to a discoveiy. This had the desired effect. Not the least suspicion was entertained ^-ow operations, so quick was Philips, in seeing every advantage which opportunities offered, for the prosecution of our purpose. However, I found all the abilities which appertained to Philips, were set down to my credit, so strongly were all possessed with the opinion, that I was the soul of every enterprise of such a nature. And from the efforts which he made in this room, many were of the opinion that I had preternatural assistance. For, said they, " no irons will hold him, and no fortification will stand against him." You will be curious, sir, I presume, to learn the me- thod by which we effected such a surprising feat in so short' a time, as to liberate me from irons, and tear away the huge iron bar which was spiked so strongly across our pump- hole. This I will give you a description of. You will recollect that one end of ray chain was fastened to the 132 MEMOIRS OF floor, the other end around my leg, the length about ten feet ; and the ring about my leg was flat.* Making the chain into a ring by the before mentioned process, we ran the end of our oaken bench into it, and placed the ring which was around my leg, under the bench, and bent it down tight to my leg ; then turned it one quarter round and bent it back again. This we repeated three or four times and the ring broke. We immediately after this, hoisted the the bolt confining the chain, by the same pro- cess. Ai'ter all, we took up the pump, and fixed our chain around the iron, on the pump-hole, as formerly, and proceeded again according to the same plan. I thought it a piece of madness to think of drawing these spikes, and made observations to that amount. Philips paid no attention to what I remarked, but pursued his plan ; and when we all jumped on to the bench, to pry up the iron- bar, the heads of the spikes flew off in a moment; the bar was torn from its place, and the whole jail trembled. I now considered my escape as certain, having nothing but the frozen ground to break through, which I expected to effect in the course of an hour. Therefore, when night progressed so far in her course, as to carry people gener- ally to their beds, we all stripped and went down into the vault, with as much silence as possible, that we might keep Rood and Hinds in ignorance of our operations ; but this we found impossible. We soon heard them take off the cover from their pump, and listen to the noise in the vault. However, as we soon expected to make our es- cape, we did not so much dread their hearing us at work, not expecting they could give any information to the jailor till next morning, when we should be far from his re- straining power. We were vigoix)Us in our operations till we had broken the frozen ground, so as to discern the snow. I commu- nicated this circumstance to W^arner, who was near me, and he imprudently, in the warmth of his feelings, told one near him, that in ten minutes we should be at liberty. This he spake so loud as to be heard by Rood and Hinds. They hearing this, immediately called to the jailor, and * The ring was an inch larg-er in diameter than my leg. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 133 informed him that we were breaking out. The alarm flev/ rapidly ; people gathered into the jail-yard with lanterns, and discovered the hole, which was almost large enough for a man to pass through, whilst others entered the jail, and turned us all into the dungeon. CHAP. xvn. ** Wake the lion's loudest roar, *' Clot his shagg}' mane with gore, " Witli flashing fury bid his eye-balls shir.e " Meek is liis savage, sullen soul to thine '." o 'UR fond expectations of liberty were again blasted. We found ourselves confined in the dungeon, and two spies to watch all our motions. It appeared that Fortune delighted in raising my hope, in order to tantalize me with disappointment. There was a strange fatality attending all my undertakings ! The most flattering circumstunces were, in the end, attended with effects of the severest na- ture. Misery v/as my portion, notwithstanding cveiy ef- fort to the contrary. I now saw no way but that I must lay my account to wear away the three long tedious years, to which I was sentenced, in jail I Early the r.ext morning I was, contrary to my expecta- tions, taken out of the dungeon, and re-conveyed into my old room, which was considerably larger than the dungeon, and there saw preparations for punishing me again with the horse-whip. I had a sharp pointed penknife about me, which had been often sought for in vain by the jailor. I pulled out this penknife, and opened it, and told the jailor I would positively put him to death if he dared to infiict that punishment on me again, I stood at this time, in one corner of the room, where I could not be attacked only on one side. The jailor ordered those with him. to take hold on me, and secure m.e ; but none chose to run the risk; for I had declared with equal determination, that the firs*: who offered to approach me, should feel the weight of my arra. 134 MEMOIRS OF IMattcrs remaining in tbis situation, the grisly looking tyrant was abadied and confounded, not daring to approach 3Tie himself, to execute any of hi? hellish plans ; he there- fore gave up the object. About this time, the blacksmith and his apprentices came into my room, with all my former load of irons, to confine me as he formerly had done, in the dungeon. Having succeeded so well with regard to the punishment of Vv'hipping, I determined to try the same experiment ngain, and see whether it would keep me out of irons. I therefore refused to have any chains put on me. The blacksmith came towards me in a threatening manner, with his hammer lifted, as though he would strike me ; but seeing me stand, as though I was determined to exe- cute my threat, with miy penknife, he gave back. They hoon left the irons lying on my floor, and all departed from the room. I expected they were gone after a recruit, but in this my fears were disappointed. About one o'clock the same day, I was taken out of this room and put into the upper loft with Grinold. Philips and the rest, who v/ere in the room with him, were taken cut of the dungeon and put back into their former place of abode, after the breach Avas secured. I believe it was effectually secured this time, for I never heard of their breaking it again ; but by what process they made it so strong as to prevent the prisoners from making another breach I do not know, never being put in that room any ji-iore. It was currently reported that the devil had as- sisted me, in my attempts to break jail. Many foolish people would apply to me for a discovery of matters un- known to themselves; as things lost, stolen, See. And when I refused to pay any attention to their application, r.Hedging that it was out of my power, they would look wisely at each other, and observe, " that I was not per- mitted to do such things, it being against the articles of my Ieaq;ue 1" It being now the last of January, if I rightly recollect, news was brought us, that all the prisoners, who were sentenced to the house of correction, were to be removed to Castie-Islaud, in the harbor of Boston, there to be con- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 15i fined to hard labor. This news hud but little effect on my mind, being as yet entirely ignorant of the place, its situation, the state of the prisoners on it, or the treatment which I should receive there. The idea of being again carried through the country, in the manner I had former- ly been, a spectacle to surrounding fools, gave me most sensible pdin ; but whether I should be in a better situa- tion there, than what I was in at Northampton, was whol- ly unknown, and I had no evidence, by which I could form any 'conjecture. Early one morning a number of deputy-sheriffs came into the jail, and bade us prepare for our journey to the Castle. They chained the prisoners two together, plac- ing the chain about one leg of each, then put them into a sleigh and drove off. When I came to breathe a pure air, and to conjtrast the prospect of surrounding objects, with the gloomy man- sions which I had left, you cannot conceive the ardor of my feelings for liberty. Every object which my eyes og- held was a loud proclaimer of my miserable state. Oh I said I, to myself, could I run about like yonder little boy, who, regardless of his privilege, loses its enjoyment ; then should I feel like the lark, that, escaped from 'its cage, flits into the air, and claps its wings for joy. I wondered peo- ple should feel so indifferent about my situation. I equal- ly wondered at their not skipping w'ith joy, because tne-/ were at liberty themselves. I thought if they had known the feelings of my heart, ihey would have arisen to a man and granted me that liberty which my heart so ardently panted after. It appeared to me sometimes that the sen- sations of my m.ind must be apparent to them, and that under this circumstance, they would aciuaiiy grant me re- lief. Yet in the bitterness of my soul, I i jund these ideaj all chimerical. Cert Jnly, said'l, did those verv charac- ters, who were instrumental in placing me in this stute of confinement, feeiingly know my whole hcc.rt, tiiey co^Id not resist the language of nature so far as not to wi^h mo at liberty. I know that even the Peihamites theniseives would have cried, his punishment is enough — hie sm:;. - in^s are equal to hh crimes. Then why will yc ■ ISO :m£M0irs of nient me ? Vv^hy vrill yon g-all me ally longer \vith the chain of slavery r The answer is, the course of law has brought you to this, and we cannot reverse its mandate. But, said I, what is law, but the voice of the people ? And Avhat is the voice of the people but the language of the heart ? Does not everj' day's experience teach us, that cruel and severe punishments serve to harden, rather than reform the vicious? Ought we not to consider ourselves us members of one and the same family, and to adopt those rules and regulations among ourselves, as a society, \ hich will in their operation, be congenial with such an !ea r Surely, this is the idea which the language of na- ture strongly inculcates upon our minds. Should we not s>l;udder with horror, if a father treated his child, as the laws of society treat each other ? When do we hear of an iinnaiur.*! parent chaining his child, confining him from ::e enjoyment ot liberty, and placing him in such a situa- .;ii, as to make him an object of contempt and scoff to li.c rest of his children, without feeling that indignation in cur bosoms, which such an unnatural action merits ? Be- t-.veen parents and children, the voice of nature is heard in its simple state, without being perverted by the sophistry of those, wdio are blind to the laws which bind mankind together as brethren of the same family. Is there not a spirit of nobleness in man which scorns the lash of tyran- i.y, in whatever shape it appears, which manifests all the lo^e and partiality of children, towards those law's, which discover tlie care and protection of a parent towards them ? "rievv the conduct of the parent of nature towards his chil- dren I " He causes his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust." He grants his parental kindness to all his children without dis- linction, and watches over the wants of the smallest part of the works of his hands. Is his example worthy of im- itation, or are we wiser than our Maker ? I have often read with the highest delight a fable invented by Dr. Frank- lin, to shew, in a familiar manner, the arrogance of man, in his attempts to place his oAvn wisdom above that of De- ity. The doctor represents Abraham as grossly abusing a stranger, whom he had invited into his tent, because he STEPHEN BURROUGHS. KT v.as an idolater, and did not worship God according to his method. The fable states, that at midnight, God called unto Abraham and inquired for the stranger ; Abraham re- capitulated his treatment of him, which was done, said he, because he worshipped not thee. God took occ.sion, from this, to shew Abraham the folly of his reasonintr ; for, said he, " have I nourished and cherished this man ninety and nine years, notwithstanding his rebellion against me, and could not thou, who art thyself a sinner, bear with him one night:" As we travelled through the country, I again found the curiosity of people had brought them together in many places where we stopped ; there a philosophic mind would have found ample scope for contemplating the human character. We cannot discern the operation of the hu- man heart in man, until we are in such a situation, as to prevent his wearing a disguise. This situation must be veiy abject, and then we become of so little consequence in society, that the notice of man is removed from us, and he acts in our presence without disguise ; viewing our approbiition or disapprobation as immaterial to his prosperity. Under such a situation, the human character becomes really known, and he who has ability with this knowledge to learn such regulations as will tend, in their operation, to promote the highest good of society, is call- ed upon by that duty which man owes to man, to assert the cause of truth, with regard to these important points. Under this view of matters, I have clearly stated my sentiments to you upon these subjects. I know you to be a man of so much observation as to know, that severe laws have the most fatal tendency, not onJy upon the criminal part of society, but likev/ise upon every member. Evcy thing which tends to destroy the principles of humanitv, serves to eradicate from the human breast that benevo- lence and compassion towards mankind, which is the bond of perfection in society. When we see the futher of a family conducting with mildness towards his children, treating them ail as equal members of his household, and never permitting the ebu- litions of wrath rmd malignity to oncrctc to'ATrds a^iv ; at M ? ' ^ 13S MEMOIRS OF the same time, we see them inheriting their father's meek- ness and compassion. Benevolence marks their ways, and harmony brightens all their paths. But on the contrary, where we sec the parent becomes the tyrant, punishing the faults of his children with the unrelenting hand of rigor, executing judgment unmingled with mercy, we see a family possessing the feelings of cruelty, lost to the god- like principle of mercy, at war with themselves, and gov- erned by those ferocious feelings which disturb the tran- quility of mankind. The same principles operate upon the great family of mankind. Where we find severe laws operating among a people, or mild laws executed in a cru- el manner, we see the influence of this, upon the manners of the people, to be very great. It gradually roots out the feelings of benevolence and compassion, and in their room, implants the sentiments of cruelty and severity. The body of mankind^can judge of things only in a very partial manner. They are taught, in the first place, to re- vere the laws ; they are taught, in the second place, to be- lieve that the laws are founded in justice : from this con- sideration, they are led to treat others as they see the law treats its subjects ; to cherish the same spirit which they see manifested in the execution of the laws : therefore, if the lav/, or the mode of executing it, is sevei^e and cruel, they vviil of consequence imbibe a spirit of severity and cruelty. Having treated these matters so largely in our conver- sation, it will be needless for me to say more on the sub- ject. I believe we ai'e both agreed in this sentiment, viz. that the laws i.nd the manner of their execution, do ulti- mately form the manners and morals of a people ; and the best criterion to form an estimate of the laws and regula- tions of a people by, is theii' manners and morals. On tlie first day of our journey towards the Castle, we dined at Btlchertown. Here I found an assemblage of many characters. Some were led here by an anxious de- sire of seeing me perfonn some feats of dexterity in elud- ing my guard, concluding that I should not remain with them longer than to arrive at this tavern. Whether they e.ipccted I ehould evaporate in a flash of fire, or disappear STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 139 in a cioud of smoke ; or whether they thought I should, Faustus like, fix my guards, like pillars of stone, immov- ably, to some spot, until I could leisurely walk away, I do not know ; but it was apparent that something they ex- pected would be done. The least movement I made, their eyes were upon me ; the least word I spoke, their ears were open, and their attention alive. When I moved, they made way for me, as though destruction would fall upon tliem if they obstructed my passage. It gave me pain to see the apparent fear that many manifested upon this occasion. I endeavored to persuade them that their fears were groundless, but all to no purpose. Some I found took this opportunity of shewing their courage to the world, by letting the by-standers see, they were not afraid to insult me. One man even ran his fist into my face, making his boast that he would venture me, as great a man as I was, but took very good care to keep so far dis- tant from me that I could not reach him, being chained to Glazier Wheeler, so that I could not move only when he moved ; and the old man having the infirmities of age upon him, could only move with a degree of moderation. While the scoundrel continued his insults, one of the sheriffs came into the room, I think his liame was White, and observing the unprovoked abuse, struck the villain across the head, with the hilt of a hanger, and felled him to the floor. This spoiled the fun of this courageous fel- low. After dinner was over, the landlady came to the high sherifi", and ii^kformedhim that one of her silver spoons was missing, and she said it was impossible for any one to get it out of her cupboard, which had not been unlocked, unless it was Burroughs ; therefore, the high-sheriff set about searching me for a silver spoon, stolen out of a room, in which it was known I had never been ; but before the search was over, the good lady informed him that tlie spoon was found. We soon moved from this and arrived that night at Bix>okfield. Here I found a little respite from that per- petual attention to the various whims, false opinion, and strange ide;^s, which people had formed of my character. 110 MEMOIRS OF But &90n here I was accosted by a grave looking old ge. tie man smoking- his pipe in the corner. I had observed him sometime, sitting in silence, bur now and then glanc- ing his eye upon me ; at length, taking his pipe leisurely from his mouth, spiiting carefully in the fire, and_adjust- ing his looks with some precision, he turned and address- ed me as follows : " Burroughs, I have had a desire to see you, for some time ; 1 have heard much of you. I know your uncle Colonel Davis, and had he given ear to my ad- vice, he would have been a great gainer ; but he did not, and the time is now passed for him to profit by his dear bought experience ;• however, I can give you advice, which you will find to your advantage, should you be en- dovred with wisdom to follow it. Your extraordinary con- duct has made mankind form very strange conjectures concerning; you, and many throw a great degree of blame upon your conduct ; but as for myself, I cannot say I think your crimes unpardonable, or indeed very heinous, ex- cepting one, and that was the flagrant transgression of the principles of gratitude towards the clergyman, whose clothes and watch you stole." Here I interrupted the orator, in the rriidst of his dis- course, by my ardor to set him right in his mistaken opin- ion of this business ; I told him the story of my stealing a watch and suit of clothes from a clergyman was entirely unfounded, as no such circumstance had happened to any clergyman in this country ; that this was an old anecdote, new vamped and handed to the world as a modern occur- rence, the opprobrium of which a good natured populace >yere willing to fix on me. He looked me full in the face, with a sarcastic sneer, pulled a newspaper out of his pocket, and turned me to a paragraph relating that I was the person, who had stolen the clothes, watch^ Sec. After I had read the paragraph, the old gentleman said, " Now Mr. Burroughs I hope you will not undertake to correct my judgment again. When I form an opinion, it is not on slight evidence, there- fore, since you have set up your opinion in opposition to mine, 1 shall let you pursue it ; you may repent v/hen it is too late.'"' He then turned from me, put his pipe iny.^ STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 141 his mouth, and remained silent the rest of the cv«ining, notwithstanding all my endeavors for a further explana- tion upon this business. The next day we proceeded on our journey. In the course of this day, I could have made my escape, if I had been chained to any body but Glazier Wheeler. I went out of the house where we stopped to dine, accompanied by only one person, and he, being impatient at staying out in the cold, went into the house, and we remained by our- selveaas much as half an hour. I proposed our escape to Wheeler ; but the severity of the weather, the infirmi- ties of age, and the uncertainty of success, operated so strongly on his mind, as to deter him from concurring in my proposal. We returned, and I flattered myself, that this apparent instance of my peaceably remaining confin- ed, when I had an opportunity of making, at least, a trial for escaping, would m.ake my keepers more remiss in guarding me ; but in this I was disappointed. I found the guard were ail in commotion, when we went into the house, at our being left alone so long ; and tliey took special care never to fall into the same error again. In the course of this day, we made a stage at a public house v/here I found a number of the Pelhamites. They had been to Boston and were on their return. They were affected at seeing my condition ! They dropped the tear of compassion 1 They pitied me 1 They offered me, as a token of their benevolent feelings, as much punch as I would drink. Whether some of their more benevolent feelings on the present occasion, did not proceed from the efficacy of the punch, w hich they themselves had drunk- en, is a question I shall by no means undertake to answer. In the course of this day's journey, we met with Mr. Baldwin, minister of Palmer, of whom mention has already been made. The good old gentleman was truly affected : and, instead of reflections, which I expected, he lamented my untimely fall ; wished I might meet with some alle- viating circumstance in my sentence, before the expira- tion of my confinement. We arrived at Little Cambridge, and tarried all night. The house where we put up was filled with people. I 142 MEMOIRS OF found the good lady of the house giving hev daughters a lecture on the propriety of keeping out of the room, where the prisoners were. But, as these young females pos- sessed the curiosity natural to their sex, they endeavored to persuade their ma'am that the danger which she fear- ed, was more in her fancy than reality. The prudent mother, however, cut her daughters short in their argu- ments, by telling them., in the most peremptory manner, that they should not go into the room where Burroughs was ; for said she, '• he has a faculty to lead any body astray : why, there's Pelham now, w here he preached — he undertook to preach to people, that it was lawful for him to lie with all the women in town, and he carried his point so far, as to lie witii every man's wife ; and then ran away and left them ; but if he should offer such a thing to me, I'd shev/ him he wan't in Pelham." After this harrangue of the careful mother, her conduct through the remainder of the evening did not manifest so great a fear on her own account, as what she had shown on account of her daughters; but whether she meant to give me an opportunity of making such proposals, as on her part v.ould lead to a discovery of her impregnable chasti- ty, or whether her attention was the pure effect of hu- manity, I shall not undertake to tell, not being in a capa- city to give information upon that subject, having made no advances tov/ards her through the course of a long tedi- ous evening. A sober fiiced clergyman entered into conversation with me upon ihe events of my life. I found him entertaining ail the acviir.ony attached to offended dignity. Says he, " what an enormous ci imc you have been guilty of, by bringing an irreparable disgrace upon the order of clergy, in assuming that character with all your vile hypocrisy about you ; und as though that was too little, you prepos- terously exhibited the works of others and not your own. You have taken tlie most direct measures to overiurn all order in civil and religious societies, by makmg the char- acter of a clergyman appear in a ludicrous point of view to the world ; a character, of all others, which ought to be held most sacred : and which, of all others, has the great= est influence to the good order of society.'* STEPHEN BURROUGHS. I4i. My answer to the clergyman was to this effect. " See- ing-, sir, that you are professedly the ambassador and rep- resentative of him, who has commanded us, " in lowli- ness of mind to esteem others better than ourselves ;" who was despised and rejected of mankind ; who was set at nought by the rulers ; and declared that his kingdom was not of this world : I say, sir, that seeing your dignity in this character is encroached upon by my conduct, I feel most heartily sorry for touching your highness in this re- spect.*' The clergyman was stung with this reply, and retorted, that, " I might find that the government would teach me how to carry myself to my superiors. After I had been kept to hard labor on the Castle two or three years, my courage would be cooled, and my manners mended," &c. We arrived at Boston the next day, about 1 1 o'clock ; stopped and dined at the sign of the Lamb. I found ma- ny of my former acquaintance now shunned me, as though 1 carried some pestilential disorder about me. One in a particular manner, who was a class-mate of mine in col- lege; coming in sight of the sleigh, in which the prison- ers v/ere conveyed, and discerning me in the sleigh, stop- ped short ; ran into a shop contiguous, and viewed me through the window with great attention. After dinner, we were taken to the commissary's store, who provided for the Castle, and all the prisoners, except- ing myself, received their clothes, which consisted of a parti-coloured suit ; I was entirely willing to be excused from receiving this bounty from the state. After the clothing had been delivered, we were taken to Long Wharf, put on board a small sail -boat, and left the main land for the island, on which the Castle stood. As we put off from the wharf, the people standing on this, and the neighboring wharves, gave three cheers, declara- tive of their satisfaction in our leaving them for a state of confinement. We returned three cheers immediately after ; endeavoring to retort their insult, by letting them miderstand that we were also glad to leave them, even for a state of confinement. 144 MEMOIRS OF We soon arrived on the island, were conveyed into the Castle, our irons taken off, and we left to view the situa- tion in which we were confined. The island is situated three miles below the town of Boston, its figure being nearly circular, containing eigh- teen or twenty acres of land. The main channel of the river runs on the east side of this island, very near the shore, and not wider than would be sufficient for two ves- sels to sail up a-breast ; of course, the east side of the isl- and is much the strongest fortified. A platform extends the greater part of the east side, on which are mounted cannon, twenty-four and thirty-two pounders. This plat- form is nearly the height of the island. Nearly on a lev- el with the Avater, at full tide, is a place where another tier of cannon were placed, during the time in which the British had possession of it ; but destroyed by them and never since rebuilt. The remaining part of the island is but very indifferently guarded by fortifications.* i The buildings, when 1 came to this island, were the gov- ernor's house, standing upon the most elevated spot on the island, under which was what was called the bomb-proof, in which we were confined ; a stone magazine, barracks for the officers and soldiers, and a blacksmith's shop. On this island I found a company of fifty soldiers, com- manded immediately by three officers, viz. In the first place, Lieutenant Perkins, formerly holding the title of Major in the continental army. Secondly, Lieut- Treat ; and thirdly, Burbeck, holding an Ensign's commission, if I mistake not, and doing the duty of gunner. The lieuten- ant-governor ot the state was Captain of the company. When I first came on to this island, there were in all only sixteen prisoners. The principal part of them were kept at work in the blacksmith's shop. The remainder did lit- tle or nothing. Our provision was one pound of bread and three fourths of a pound of meat per day. The officers who were in commission here, were of the follov/ing description, viz. First, Major Perkins, a man of about six feet high, well proportioned, an J strong built ; possessed with care, fidelity, and great attention to liis du- * The present state of tliis island is very different. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. U^ iv, as a military character. He Mas a man of sentiment end feeling. His courage was unimpeachable, having tried it myself as thoroughly as \Tas necessary to learn that cir- cumstance. Notwithstanding his personal courage, he stood in such fear of his superiors in society, that he could not always maintain such a state of independency as to act himself. His military education had taught him obe- dience to his superiors, and he now maintained that prin- ciple with a degree of mechanical exactness. Major Per- kins had a family living on the island with him. This family consisted of Mrs. Perkins, whose amiable and com- passionate conduct has left the most grateful feelings in my heart, and a number of children, how many I do nut recollect. Lieutenant Treat was a man about five feet ten inches In height, trim built, and slender ; more fond of appear- ing in the fashion, with regard to his dress, the cock of his hat, &c. than he was to rtiise the garrison to the high- est pitch of military fame. There was nothing very pos- itive in his character. He was by no means a bad man, and as for his goodness, it did not appear with such eclat as to place him in a very conspicuous situation in society. Ensign Burbeck may l>e described by comparing him to a petulant boy, of about fourteen years old, who had never been tauglit or restrained by parental authority. He was more fond of his dogs than of any other society ; playing with them by the day together. Immediately after my confinement on this island, I be- gan to look about, to see whether a possibility for escaping remained, i viewed the building in which I was confin- ed. It was made of brick, the walls of which were five feet thick, laid in cement, which v*as much harder than the brick themselves. I searched every corner for a spot upon which I could work without detection, our room being searched every day, to see Avhether the prisoner* had made any attempt to break away. I at length hit up- on a place. 1 here was a chimney at one end of the room, grated in a very strong manner, about t%yelve feet above its funnel, which was sufficiently large for a man to go up. .\bout,three feet above the mantle-piece of this fire-place, 146 MEMOIRS OF I concluded to begin my operation. Here I could v.ork* and not have my labors discovered, unless very critical search was made up the chimney. I had not been at ^vo^k long before I had made a beginning of a hole suffi- ciently large to crawl through ; I then took a board, and blacking it like the chimney-back, made it of the proper size, and put it into the hole, so that the strictest search could produce no discovery. The prisoners in the room v.ith me were seven in number. These prisoners Mere all turned out to work about sun-rise, when the doors of the prison were again shut, and not opened until 12 o'clock, when the prisoners came fi'om work, and continued half an hour ; they were then taken back again to work, and there remained until sunset. Therefore, I had as much as sixteen hours in the twenty-four, in which I could work upon this brick wall, which work I continued, ^ith the most unremitting attention. The Idbor was incredible ! I could, in the first place, work only with a large nail, rubbing away the brick grad- Vially. not daring to make the least noise, lest the sentries, wl.o stood round the piison, should overhear me at work, and thereby become discovered. One night I i-ubbcd the brick so hard, as to be overheard by the sentry, standing on the other side ofthev>'all. The alarm was immedi- ately given, and the guard and officers rushed into the room to detect, us m our operations. Fortunately, I over- heard the sentr)" tell the sergeant of the guard, that Bur- roughs vfas playing the devil in the jail. The sergeant Vein to inform the officers, and I had but just time to put ir.y board iri its place, and set down to greasing my shoes, when the officers entered, and with a great degree of sternness, inquired where I had been at work ? I told them that I hod been rubbing some hard soot off the chimney and grhiding it fine to mix with the grease, and put on to iny shoes. They laughed at my nicety about my shoes, that I should wish for tiieek shining shoes in this situa- tion. M:.jor Perkins knowing my inattentiveness to dress, could not so readily believe that bldcking my shoes was the orjiy object in view ; he therefore made a very strict search for some other matter, which should account (qv STEPHEN BURROUGHS. u: the noise the sentry hac^ heard : but, after a fruitless pur- suit of such an object, they e^ave over their search, con- cluding that one among the thousand strange whims which marked my character, had prompted me to set about blacking my shoes, at that time. After they were gone, I felt as strong a disposition to laugh at them, for the deception under which they were laboring, as they did whilst present to laugh at me, for the whim of greasing and blacking my shoes. This tem- porary check was of the utmost importance in my further* prosecution of this business. It made me more careful for the future, not to pursue my labors with too much im- patient impetuosity, a failing I ever was subject to. The prisoners in the room were merry on the occasion of my turning the suspicion of the officers so entirely from the real object to another very foreign from it. They thought it a manifestation of ability. In fine, I had gain- ed such an ascendency over the prisoners, that they im- plicitly gave up to my opinion in all our little matters : and more particularly, when any contention arose amon^ them, I generally succeeded in amicably terminating the difficulty without their proceeding to blows. My conduct towards all, I determined should be mark- ed with the strictest impartiality. I not only satisfied my own mind in the business, but likewise took the greatest pains to shew them, that I meant to be an impartial friend towards all parties. When they fell into disputes and bickerings, I would address them to the following pur- port, viz. " Gentlemen," (even the convicts v/ere fond of good words, and would listen when I called them gen- tlemen much sooner than- when I addressed them by a less elevated epithet) " our situation you are all sensible is very miserable ; do the best we can, it v/ill not be tol- erable ; but when, in addition to slavery, we render our society hateful and irksome to each other, by faliing into broils and v.'rangles, it then becomes a hell indeed, and answers the strongest wish of our inveterate foes. I know there are many circumstances calculated to harrass and sour your minds ; to render you peevish and petulant ; to n:..kc you at vaiiance vrith the v/hole race of mankind : us MEMOIRS OF but to indulge these feelings onl)'- renders your case worse rather than better ; it gratiaes youi^ enemies and serves every purpose which they could desire ; thereforOf as wise men, I expect you will act with prudence, with re- gard to your own comfort and to the views of those who wish you ill." Even the convicts had reason sufficient to hear these arguments with attention, and they generally practiced according to this direction ; so strong is that principle in all men to listen to the voice of friendship. I determined to be more careful in prosecuting my la- bor on the wall lor the future, and check that impatience which often hurried me on beyond the dictates of pru- dence. I now wrought with the greatest caution, and ii^ade slow but sure advances. After 1 had been employ- ed in this business about a week, I found I could work to greater advantage if I had a small iron crow ; therefore, I ordered one of the prisoners, who wrought in the shop, to make me one aboul a foot long, and sharp at one end. This he found an opportunity to do, undiscovered by the overseer, and brought it to me. I found tliat with this crovv^ I could pry off half a brick at a time without the least noise, after I had worn a hole with my nail, suffi- ciently large to thrust in my ciow. The rubbish which I took out of the wall I put every night into a tub, stand- ing in our room for necessary occasions, and this was emp- tied by one of the prisoners every morning into the water. After I Ivdd labored with unceasing assiduity for two months, I found one night, after I had pried away a brick, that I could run my arm out of the prison into the open air. This circumstance made my heart leap with joy. After such a length of labor, to find my toils crowned with apparent success, gave me atone of pleasure of which you Can huve no idea. Upon examiiiation, I found the breach through the wall ^ . s just below a covered way, so that it would remain un- seen in tiie day ii:!ic, uniess discovered by some accident. I had nicasured the height of the covered way by a geo- metric.d operation, not being permitted to come near it : and this was done with an instrument made by my pen- knife ; that penknife which had done me such excellent bervice in Northampton jail. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 149 \Vhen the prisoners saw my measurement was exact, their idea of my proibund knowledge was greatly raised ; and they appeared to entertain the most sanguine assur- ance, that their li;:)erty was certain when their epilations were directed under my auspices. After I had found the hole through the wall was entire- ly secreted by the covered way, I proceeded to make it sufBcieniy large to pass through. After ail this was accomplished, one difficulty still re- mained. The sentry standing on the covered way would undoubtedly hear us in going out at this hole ; and more- over, if we should be so fortunate as to get, unheard, into the covered vvay, yet we must come out of that within five feet of the place where he stood, and therefore could not prevent a discovery. Under these circumstances, we found it necessary to lie quiet until some rainy night should remove the sentry from his stand en the covered way, to some place of shel- ter. This was generally the case when the weather was foul or uncomfortable, unless some special cause should detain him to this particular spot. I recollect, that soon after the officers had found me blacking my shoes with soot, the sentinels kept their post, invariably, on the cov- ered way, in every kind of weather ; but they had, by this time, become more at ease in their feelings, and conse- quently would, at such time, retue into an alley leading; through the bomb-proof. CHAP. xvni. ^ "Wliere now my phrenzy's pompous furniture ? " The cob-web cottage, with its ragg-ed wall ** Of mouldering mud, is royalty to me ! " The Spider's most attenuated thread " Is cord, is cable, to man's tender tie On earthly bliss ; it breaks at every breeze." W) E did not wait many days for the happy moment, be - fore we heard the sentry leave his station on the co\ ered way, and enter the alley, for shelter from the rain. N 2 l: . MKr^lOIRS OF Aiioiit 1 1 o'clock at liiijjht, I made the necessary arrpaige- r.u !;ts for the expedition. The island being in a circular form. I ordered sever, men to go round it to the south, . !-,i!si 1 went round to the north. Tlie reason why I did jis was of the following nature.. viz. There was a wharf • n the wcotern shore of this island, where the boats Avere .cpl, and a sentry placed over them. It was necessary, : 'itev v.e Ivdd escaped out of the bomb proof, to procure a Loat, in order to transport ourselves off the island ; and as there were ucne, except what were immediately under the '-:-yc of the sentry, the only alternative v>"hich remained, ...'.s to make the sentry a prisoner, and carry him off with 3. As this was a business in v.hich some nicety of con- duct was necessary, I chose to trust no one to execute it but myself ; rnd therefore, ordered the seven prisoners round the island, a different way from what I went myself, i the sentiy turned and hailed, " Who comes there r" No answer was made. Inmiediately on seeing the aitenticn of the sentry turned from me, I arose from my position fiat on the ground, and advanced as near ;is t-wenty feet, and lay down again. Immediately the noise from the seven men was again renewed ; and the sentry*s attention was fixed to the object of the noise. He again hailed in a very peremtoiy manner, cocked his gun, and made i^ady to fire. By this time I had arisen from the STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 15 1 round, and advanced to within about eight feet of the sen- uy, Avhen I heard the piece cock, and saw him present it I I immediately darted it him, siczed him in an instant, and clapped iny hand over his mouth, to prevent liim from making a noise, ^vhich should alarm the othcx- soldiers on guard. When I first laid hold of him, he started, and at- tempted to get from me, making a noise through his nose as though very much terrified; crying "eh! ehl eh I'* I told him that the least noise from him should produce instant death ; that I would rip his guts out the iirst mo- ment he proved refractory. After I had sufficiently terri- fied him, I took my hand from his mouth, and told him that no harai should befal him, so long as he behaved in a peaceable manner. I took his gun and cartridge-box from him. The other prisoners now coming up, we all went into the barge, carrying ten oars, and put off. It v/as now about half an hour nast twelve at night, i: being extremely dark and rainy, aiid nothing to steer by, except mere conjecture. We were ignorant of the time of tide, whether it was ebbing or flowing, and consequently could not tell which way wc drifted : however, we deter- mined to row until we came to some land. I set myself in the stern sheets, steering the boat ; Richards, the sen- try, set in the bottom of the boat, between my legs. The gun with the fixed bayonet lay by me, and the cartridge- box hanging by my side. The other men were at their oars, rowing the boat. W^e had proceeded about far enough, as we judged, to be in the middle of the channel, betv/een the island and Dorchester, whither we meant to direct our course. It was now demanded of me, by one of the men who sat forward rowing the boat, what I meant to do with Rich- ards ? As I did not know where we should in fact land, I was undetermined in my own mind what I should do with him when I came to land, and gave an answer to that a- mount. The person asking this question, looking upon his escape as certain, began to put on airs of consequence, and answered me in a sarcastic manner, " well, captain Burroughs, as you have had the command until you do not know what to do, it is best for some otlier person to 152 MEMOIRS OF lake it, who does know what to do ;" and then tuminj^ himself to Richards, continued his discourse, " an* as for you, Mr. Richards, you'll please to v/alk overboard, that we may not, after this, hear any of your tales told to your brother swMs.* If you walk over without fuss, it is well, it not, you shall be thrown over, tied neck and heels." When I heard this insoicnt treatment and dastardly lan- 'guai^-e, I could hardly conceive what it meant. Unpro- vokedly to throw Richards into the w^ater, was a manifes- tation of a language of the heart, which appeared to me so unnatural, that I could not believe the person using it, to be serious. Yet I could not conceive any propriety in using it in any other light. Richards himself was terrili- ed. He began to supplicate me in the most moving terms, to save him from the destruction which was ready to fall upon him. His entreaties made such an impression up- on my mind, that I should have given him my assistance, if I had been opposed Sf every man in the boat : howev- er, I did not yet believe he was in that degree of danger which he appeared to apprehend ; but was soon undeceiv- ed by the three forward hands shipping their oars and coming aft. I endeavored to expostulate, but to no effect. I saw they were resolutely bent on their diabolical purpose I I saw the disposition of the infernals pictured in their op- erations. I let go the helm, started up, and swore by the Almighty, that I'd send the first to hell who dared lay a hand on Richards. The poor fellow, at this time, lay in the bottom of the boat trembling with agony, and crying in the most piteous manner. The blood flew quick through my veins. The plaintive cries of Richards vibrated upon my heart, and braced every nerve. At this moment the first villain who had proposed this infernal plan, laid hold of me by the shoulder to prevent my interposing betweeu Richards and the others, who were about throwing him overboard. When I found his hand griping my shoulder, I imme- diately reached my arm over his back, caught him by the waist-band of his breeches and dashed him to the bottom of * A cant word si^iifying soldiers. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. US the boLit. The moment of my laying hold of him, I de- termined to throw him into the sea, and why I did not, I have never since been able to tell. After I had thrown him into the bottom of the boat, I caught. the gun on which was a bayonet fixed ; this 1 brought to a charge and made a push at the man nearest me, who drew back, took his seat at the oar, when all again M-as quiet. We continued rowing until we struck fast on the ground, but could see no land. We left the boat and waded about until we discovered the shore. When we came to the land, we could not determine on what place we had fallen. We were soon satisfied, however, by the drum on the Cas- tle beating the long-roll, and immediately after, beating to arms. We hftard the alarm in that direction which plain- ly pointed out, that we v/ere somewhere near Dorchester- Point. We saw the Castle in an uproar, and all the sig- nals of alarm which are usually made on such occasions. After we had found where we were, the three men who engaged in throAving Richards overboard, left us, and went avray together. I then told Pvichards that he might go where he pleased ; that he must be sensible I had saved his life, even at the risk of my own ; therefore, the dictates of gratitude woul4 teach him a line of conduct which would not militate against my escape. This he promised in the most solemn manner. He was warm in his expres- sions of gratitude towards me. I believed him sincere. He departed. In this transaction, I enjoyed a sensation of pleasure very exquisite. To receive the tribute of a grateful heart, flowing from a stream of sincerity, was a circumstance, which in a measure counterbalanced many evils, which I had experienced. We had all lost our shoes in the mud, in getting to dry land ; therefore, had to travel bare-foot- ed. It was the space of an hour and a half after we httd landed, before we found the way off this point of land; the night being* extremely dark, and v/e all strangers to the ground. After we had found the road, I told the four men who were with me, that the better way would be to separate, and every m.iui shift for Idmself. This observation struck l«4 MEMOIRS OF a damp upon all who were with me. They entreated me to tarry with them until the night followini^, when they could have a better chance of getting clear of the country without detecdon; they feared falling into the hands of their pursuers if I left them. They felt a certainty of es- cape if I remained with them. My compassion Avas mov- ed, and I acted directly contrary from what I knew was according to a system of prudence. We agreed to remain all together until the next night. The day began to dawn, and we found it necessary to look after some place, to which we could retire from the observation of the inhabitants ; all the men, except myself, being dressed in the uniform of the Castle, and of course, would be noticed by the first observer. Some proposed retiring into a swamp, and secreting ourselves in its dark recesses; some proposed the plan of going into the first grove of woods, and climbing up to the top of some trees, and securing ourselves that way. To these proposals I made the following reply : it is likely, that as soon as day light has fairly appeared, the inhabitants of the country w ill be alarmeJ ; and warm pursuit will be made after us ; and every place, where the inhabitants will think it likely that v/e should hide, will be se;:rched by them in ihe most critical manner. No plcxes will be .sought more thorough- ly than thick swamps and high bushy trees ; therefore, it will be our best way to hide where the people will not look after us, if such a place may be found. For my own part, I had rather take my chance, under present circum- stances, in the open field than in a swamp or at the top of a tree. The objects of the swamp and woods were immediately relinquislied, and tl-ey all seemed content to leave the matter to my judgment entirely. We travelled on with rapidity about one mile further, and then came into a lit- tle thicket of houses, and a barn standing immediately on the road among them ; this barn we all entered and found two mows of hay. I ascended one mow, and having tak- en up the hay by flakes, near the side of the barn, to the depth of six feet, three of us went down, and the hay fell back into its former situ:. don, covering us entirely over dt ^STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 155 the same time. I had ordered the other two to go on to the other mow, and do as they had seen me. They ac- cordmgly went, and I supposed all secure. Not long after this, there came a number of women in- to the barn to milk the cows. Soon after, I heard chil- dren round the barn, as though they were in pursuit of something with a dog. I soon found that a skunk was their object under the barn. However, when the women had finished milking their cows, the children were all or- dered into the house, this day being Sunday. To my astonishment and surprise, the two men v/ho had gone to de other mow, now came over where I was, and told me, they could not find a place to hide ; " and in- deed," said they, " we do not like to be so far off, for it appears to us, that we shall be taken if we are 1" How I felt under this situation you will readily conceive, by supposing yourself in my place, and people expected into the barn eveiy minute to fodder their cattle I I jumped out of my phice, told them to lie down in a moment, cov- ered them over with hay, and returned into my place, just as the young men came into the barn to take care of tlieir cattle* They came on to the mow where we were lying, and took the hay from it for their cows ; but made no dis- covery : and yet, notwithstanding all this, one of our men, by the name of Burrel, -whom I had covered over with hay, was asleep before the young men went out of the barn, and snored so loud, as to be heard ; but the men did not know what noise it was, nor Avhere it came from. Immediately after these men had left the bani, I again jumped out of my hole, went to Burrel, who had uncov- ered his head entirely, waked him, and expostulated with him in tiie severest terms. " This is the consequence,'* said I, " of attending to your request of remaining with you. Your own heedless disposition, not only exposes yourself to be found, but likewise involves me in the same danger. Is it a matter of such indifference to you wheth- er you are again taken, that you can tamely and calmly fall asleep at the moment when you are surrounded with dan- ger ? If no regard to your own safety will influence you on this occasion, yet, I should suppose you might pay some 156 MEMOIRS OF attention to my welfare, seeing it was by your earnest en- treaty I continued •with you, being influenced by no other motive than compassion towards you. If nothing else will answer, I will have recourse to the means which are in my power ; and if I find you asleep again, I will positively put you to death ; and this I think will be entirely just, if no other measure will answer to ensure my safety-'* I was of opinion this threat would answer the purpose, for which it was intended, viz. that fear would operate upon him so strongly, as to prevent his sleeping in such a situation for the future. We lay quiet all the forenoon, without any accident: during this time, I endeavored to mr.ke some arrangement in my own mind for my future conduct. I concluded that I should be able to reach the state of Rhode-Island by the next morning, when I should be no longer obliged to trav- el under cover of the night; when I could again mix v.-ich society, without viewing them as my open and declared enemies. We heard the various bells ringing at Dorchester meet- ing-houses for the exercises of the day. The forenoon meeting was finished, and the first bell for the exercises of the afternoon was ringing, when anUmber of men came into the barn to put a horse into the chaise, standing on the barn-floor. The streets were full of people going to the meeting-house. A number of children came likewise in- to the barn with the men, and climbed on to the mow where we lay secreted, looking for hens' nests. At this moment Burrel began again to snore, which brought the children immediately to the spot where he lay, and his head being uncovered, they saw it, and cried out, " daddy, daddy, here's the -skunk ! here's the skunk !" It hardly appeared credible to the old gentleman that a skunk should be on the hay-mow ; he therefore manifested some doubt as to his children's report, but they were determined he should believe them, and affirmed it again with warmth, " it certainly is a skunk, daddy, for it has got ears." The peculiar manner in which this was uttered, made the people, on the barn-floor, think something uncommon was there. They accordingly ascended the mow to the STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 157 number of eight or nin(i, in order to satisfy thynselves concerning this matter. By this time Burrel awaking, saw he was discovered, and began to pull the hay over his head. Those who were on the mow saw it, and were now convinced, that the children in fact had seen some- thing that had ears. They took the pitch-fork and mov- ed the hay, which lay over these two men, and imn.edi- ately saw that they were convicts, escaped the precedm^^ night from the Castle r*: . -**' The barn was inst^ti^ filled with people from t-*ft street, on the alarm's beih^- gt^«j^ of these men. Through the whole scene, from the first opening of the barn by the men, who were about putting the horse into the chaise, till this time, my fe^ings were of the keenest kind. When I had succeeded with all my plans for escape thus far, when 1 had endured with so much patience, a course of such incredible labor, as what I performed in breaking through the bomb-proof ; when I haarurthermore, over- come the difficulties of making the sentry a prisoner, of preserving him from death, of finding the land we sought, through the thickest shades of night, and the uncertuinty of being drifted out of our course by adverse tides ; and then by a retrograde course of incidents, to be deprived of the object to Avhich all these labors were directed, was a prospect which filled my mind with the keenest anxiety, and kept my fears in a perpetual state of alarm. Burrel was a man of great stupidity, and I feared his senseless conduct more than any thing else. You will wonder at my continuing with him ! I wonder at it my- self. My weak side was an inconsiderate compassion. I did continue with him, and too late I saw my error. How- ever, I acted the foolish part in another respect, viz. by not taking him into the hole with me, wliere I could have kept him perpetually under my eye. He was very disa- greeable, and the object of being freed from a mrnientary inccmvenience was so powerful on ray mind, at that timc« that for this paltry consideration, I lost my liberty ior more than two years. I heard the children around the hay-mou v i'. ^ f- most pain. I heard Barrel's snoring with indignation o lo8 MEMOIRS OF and horror : 1 now almost gave myself over for lost ! But v/hat were niy sensations when the people ascended the mow and discovered these two convicts, plainly seeing who they were by their dress. However, all hope of escape was not lost. I thought it yet possible to remain undiscovered, if the two convicts behaved with any prudence, seeing we were so far under the hay. The question was asked, " what had become of the other prisoners who had made their escape ?" Burrel answered, that he should not tell, " but if they were any where in that barn, they are right down there,*' pointing with his finger to the spot where we in fact were. With this information, they began the search again, pitching the hay from the spot, till they came down to the place where we had been secreted. The feeble twig upon which my last hopes remained was now broken, and I sunk into a state of despair. All my fond hopes were lost in a mo- ment, and I found i:uyself only fallen into a state of greater wretchedness, in the room of being liberated from my for- mer misery. " Is this the rev/ard," said I to the inhabitants, " for sav- ing one of your number, but a short time since, from the devouring jaws of death, ready to swallow him up ? But a little time since, he stood in need of my pity. I granted him that compassion which nature has taught me to shew. I now stand in need of your pity ; will you not grant what you, in a like situation, would request ? Remember that this \vorld is a state of revolution. You may yet see the time in which you v;ill want the exercise of compassion, even from me, however improbable the present appear- ance. You would then lament not having shewn that compassion which you v/ould stand in- need of yourselves. Y^ou can hardly imagine that my escape can produce any injury to you. I shall leave you, and shall never return to a place where I might be in danger of confinement. You who are parents, may have children in rny situation ; would not your hearts yearn with compassion towards a child in my condition ? Would not you feel the most earnest de- sire, that some breast, softened by the tender emotions of •cojppassion, would SLiy unto your child, go — enjoy the STEPHEN. BURROUGHS. I '5 ? blessinc^ which nature l)estows ; wanton in the streams of liberty, and celebrate the day of jubilee ? Would not the strong emotions of gratitude fire your heart, towards such a benevolent part of creation ? Would not such a compas- sionate action appear to you more lovely than the beauties of the morning ; more glorious than the sun in his majes- ty 2 This, surely you would say, is a narration of Deity ; a spark of the fire of love, manifested by nature's God in the daily dispensations of his providence to man." All my entreaties were to no effect. The minds of peo- ple were so fortiiied against every observation which I made, that the ideas of pity or compassion were shut en- tirely out. They knew not my feelings, therefore could not judge with regard to thab conduct which I thought they ought to exercise towards me. They had never b^een in m.y situation, hence could not view it in its proper light. We were all carried to a public house, and kept there until a guard came from the island and conducted us back again. Immediately upon our landing upK)n the island, I was ordered into irons. This was a circumstance proving the ideas existing herej of my being the soul of every en- terprize ; and indeed they had pretty good evidence to found their opinion upon, considering that I was the only person remaining in the room out of which we escaped, through the day, without being turned into the shop to work ; and their recollecting the circumstance, likewise, of blacking my shoes with soot, in order to account for the noise which the sentry had formerly heard ; the reason of the noise being now more clearly understood than formerly. The next morning we were all summoned, with great pomp and ceremony, before the three officers, sitting as a coin-t-martial,* and there beard an enumeration of ihe crimes laid to our charge, which amounted to five in num- ber, viz. first, breaking the jail ; second, carrying the :>en- try from his post ; third, taking the arms and auimunirion of the garrison and carrying them away ; foui'th, taking the boat belonging to the garrison, and carrying it oil ±q * The law of tlie state of Massachusetts making Castle Islai d ., place for the confinement of Convicts, had subjected them to mar- tial kiw while remaining- there. MEMOIRS OF island ; ufth, and lastly, deserting fi-om our state of coh- iinenient. Of all these crimes we were found guilty, and received sentence of thirty -nine stripes for each, with the ca.t-o*ninetails, amounting in all to one hundred and nine- ty-five lashes ; we however obtained a remission of ninety- five, and received one hundred only, the next day at sun setting. ,^\The three prisoners who went away by themselves, w^e likewise this day re-taken and brought on to- the island, tried and sentenced ; therefore, at sun-setting there were eight of us brought to the whipping post, stripped and punished according to the sentence. The sentry, yhom. we had made prisoner, had returned on to the island the morning after his captivity, and had given a very just relation of the events which had taken place while he was our prisoner ; of consequence, when the punishment was inflicted on me, it was a name rather than a reality. The othei'S, and snore particulai'Iy three of them, were punished with great severity, the flesh fly- ing offal every stroke. CHAP. XIX. *' Enchanting pleasure dances in our sight, " And tempts ns forward by a ti-each'rous light. '* But while thy flattering smiles our thoughts inflame, " Thou prov'st to us a mere fantastic name, " A fair delusion and a pleasing cheat, **■ A gaudy vision and a soft deceit." X. FOUND that my humanity to Richards had made a j)artial impression in my favor, upon the minds of the peo- ple in the towns contiguous ; but that impression was sooft lost in forgetfulness, and no more remembered, when the event was a little removed from view by the hand of time. You may now hear my name mentioned a thousand times, together with a thousand circumstances respecting my ad- ventures through life, without ever hearing the least men- tion made of this circumstance, tliough the fact was a matter of as much notoriety as any event of my life. You • STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 161 aiCiV hear the mouths of people filled with anecdotes re- lating to me, of the disagreeable kind, through all p:irts of the country. Nay, more, all the reports which have cir- culated through the world for many years past, of that species which serves to place the character in a vicious point of view, have been placed to my account, and are now related as facts not admitting the least doubt. Hence, the anecdote of the watch and clothes stolen from the clergy- man, &c. &c. form a detail too long for me to inseruin this narration. It has ever appeared that an ungenerous principle has influenced mankind to relate the dark cir- cumstances which have composed my character ; and that they have shrunk from the relation of any facts which have worn the appearance of my being clothed with humanity, as though the most baleful poison was attendant on such a relation. Such a fondness is there in the human heart to bring into view such circumstances, in the character of others, as will exalt themselves, in a comparison between their own conduct and that of others. About this time the shops vreve fitted up sufficient to receive all the prisoners, with conveniences for making nails. Therefore. I ^v^^s put to v/ork in the shops, and taught to manufacture nails ; but the lessons which T re- ceived here had but little eftect upon my progress in ac- quiring this noble art. That unaccountable stupidity which I ever possessed, had an unusual influence upon me at this time. It is true, I could make a nail equal to any thing you ever saw, of the kind, in beauty and elegance ; but the slowness with which I executed this, was a circum- stance of great complaint by the overseer, not being able to finish more than five in a day ; which cost more than ten times the value of the nails in coal and iron ; there- fore, it was determined, that I should be more expeditious in my work. I obeyed the commands of those who were over me. I made the next day five hundred nails ; but they had as many heads and horns as the beast we read of in scripture. This did not answer the purpose intended. I was reprimanded in severe terms, but all did not signify. When 1 made good nails, I could not overgo five in a day, 162 IVIEMOIRS OF and when I made more, they were as varied, in form and magnitude, as the ragged rocks upon the mountains. The plain truth of the business was here : I viewed the ti'ansuctions of the government towards me, to be inimical and cruel. I felt none of that confidence in her treatment which a child ought to feel tov/ards the government of a kind parent. I considered that she had declared open war against me ; and would take every opportunity to oppress me. Under this view of matters, I meant to make those arrangements in my conduct, which wc see one nation making in their conduct towards another, with whom they are at open war. Whether I had just grounds to view matters in this light, I leave to your own judgment ; meaning, with re- gard to that, only to relate simple facts. True it was, I had suffered many unusual, cruel and illegal punishments since I had been under the displeasure of the govern- ment ; but whether the odium ought to be thrown on in- dividuals or the government, I leave you to judge. I know my situation did not admit of that cool and rational think- ing upon these subjects which real justice i*equired ; how- ever, my design is not to justify that line of conduct which ought not to be justified ; neither do I intend to criminate that conduct which I think justifiable; because some might be pleased to criminate it themselves. Viewing matters as I then did, I was determined to withstand every effort which my overseers should make, to render me profitable in my situation ; and how far I succeeded in my undertakings, you wdll be able to judge by the after rela- tion. About this time, the prisoners whom I left in North- ampton for trial, came on to the island, according to their sentence, viz. Philips, Warner, Rogers, and a number of others, whoso names I have forgotten. I was determin- ed to defeat the business of making nails entirely ; and ac- cordirigly entered into a plan for that purpose. Theie was a large well about six rods from the shop, to which wc used to repair for water. The well was 20 feet deep, and the water generally near the top. We took our nail-rods, broke them in pieces, put them into the- wa- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 163 ter pail, carried them to the well, and flung them into the water. This we continued for the space of three weeks, until the well was nearly filled with iron. The return of nails did not half pay for the ^rst cost of the rods, so that the commissary was determined to send no more rods to the island ; supposing it a waste of the public property. However, the overseer urged another trial, and the com- missary with reluctance, consented to send down a small quantity of nail-rods for the Ust trial. This circumstance I was informed of, by the boat-men, who went after the rods. I therefore exhorted the prisoners to stand this last trial with courage and perseverance. They univer- sally promised to remain inviolate to their trust, and I pleased myself with the speedy accomplishment of my plan. The universal excuse of the prisoners, for not return- ing more nails for the iron which they had received, was their inability. They constantly insisted upon it, that they could not make more nails out of the iron ; all agreeing in one excuse, and all returning much the same quantity of nails, in proportion to the iron they received ; it was thought that the business would not answer its design ; and therefore was about being droppod. Yet the overseer was minded to try one more experiment, to see whether the business would bear a profit, or whether it would not. The law, regulating th€ treatment towards convicts on the Castle, had strictly prohibited the allowance of spirit- uous liquors, under any consideration ; therefore, many, v/ho had been formerly great drunkards, were now wholly debarred their favorite enjoyment ; and moreover, being so long habituated to immoderate drinking, and being now wholly deprived of the use of it, they had experienced in reality, great temporary inconveniences, with regard to their health, as well as to the cravings of appetite un- satisfied. Hence, the prospect of spirituous liquor to these, vrould have a very powerful effect. This the overseer was sensible of; and accordingly, offered a gill of rum to eve- ry one who should return so many nails, out of such a weight of iron. This bait I saw. I expostulated with the men to be- ware of the trcacheiy. I used every argument in my 164 MEMOIRS OF power to convince them of the necessity of this self-deni- al. I endeavored to shew them, that far from kindness, this rum was offered them f.s the most fatal poison they could drink. They were all convinced, and all seemed resolute to put in practice my advice. But^vhen the rum was brought into the shop, and they saw the precious mor- sel before them, they fciinted under the trial I They could not resist the temptation 1 They weighed the iron, and' returned the full tale of nails ; they drank the delicious liqi\id. They returned into the prison with exultation ; they were rich ; they felt far exalted above my situation ; being able to gain a gill ofiaim a day ; v/hereas, I was un- able to perform one tenth part of the task required. " Now," said they, " we shall be able to earn a gill of rum every day 1" This appeared so great a state of happi- ness, when compared v,4th what their case had been, that they were almost contented with their situation. They began to despise my wisdom ; to think that my head did not contain so much as they were before inclined to believe it did. They exultingly said, " this never would have been the case, if we had followed your advice. We must have a little sense now and then, as well as you all the time." I had no disposition to contradict these haughty Patricians. '< Perhaps, said I, befch-e to-morrow morning you may find yourselves sunken to your former Plebeian state of servile misery." I had rather see the operation of such pro- found penetration, than undertake to contradict one of these Knights of the Pot, with all his greatness, armed capapee. I lay down in sorrow, repeating the following words of Young, as a lullaby to sooth my disappointed feelings : ** To man, why step-dame nature so severe ? " Why throw aside tliy master-piece half wrought, " While meaner efforts thy last hand employ ? " Reason's progi-essive insti]ict is complete ; " Swift instinct leaps — slow reason feebly climbs. *' Brutes soon their zenith reach — their little all " Flows in at once — in ages tliey no more " Could know, or do, or covet, or enjoy. '* "Were men to live co-equal with the sun, '• The Patriarch-pupil would be learning still ; " Yet, dyin^, leaves his lesson lialf unlearnt." STEPHEN BURROUGHS. \63 After the prisoners had performed their task the next day, and returned their nails in full tale, to their astonish- ment and sore mortification, they found no rum was to be dealt out to them. They made application for it, but re- ceived in return the bitterest reproaches and heavy curses. They were given to understand that they should now do their tasks, and that too without a reward. I found, when they were shut into the prison at night, that they had fallen greatly from their state of exaltation, which they felt the night preceding. They were now not so rich, so great, nor so wise. They could now see the propriety of my ex- postulations ; but alas ! they saw it too late. Seeing the success of this experiment had such a salu- tary effect ift discovering the real cause why the prisoners had not been more profitable in their labors, the overseer thought to make me change my plan of conduct as much as the others had changed theirs: but in this attempt, he found me possessing what the West-India Planter would call sullenness, or incoi'rigible obstinacy, in one of his slaves. Those who felt friendly towards me would call it manly resolulion ; others, who were inimical, would call it deviltry, wickedness. Sec. so that it would have as many names as there are different feelings towards one in those who relate it. You, sir, may call it by what n^ime you find propriety will dictate. The fact was, that by length of time, I did not become any more profitable in my employment. About this time there was a change of overseers. The first, whose name was Builey, was by no means a bad man. He had something of the petulant and whimsical about him, but this was only the ebullition of a moment, and, his governing character was reasonable, humane, and feeling. In the room of the former, there came to occupy his place, a man whose name was Rifford, ignorant, stupid, cruel, barbarous and unfeeling. He was a blacksmith by occu- pation, and hence it was thought he would answer a better purpose to superintend the nailing business than one who was entirely unacquainted with such work. He had not been long on the island before the prisoners began to feel the severity of his arm. When he was offended, he made lise of any thing which he could lay his hand upon, to chas- 166 MEMOIRS OF tise those who gave him the offence ; hence th.e prisortei s were unmercifully beaten with clubs, tongs, bars of 'iron, or any other missile weapon which should come to hand. It was impossible to avoid the disagreeable effects of his anger. He would often be in a rage when no one could account for it ; and at other times, v/ould suffer himself to be treated in such a manner as no man of sense and digni- ty would allow : hence, I found the old adage, " it is hard to deal with a fool," most sensibly verified in this instance. My prospects did not by any means reconcile my feel- ings to my situation. I yet panted for liberty with an ar- dor of desire beyond description. I viewed every situa- tion in which matters were placed about this island. I en- deaAored to concert some plan to turn them to my advan- tage. ^ I finally determined on making one bold and daring push to make myself master of the place. This plan I did not hastily enter upon, without first weighing all the circumstances which might probably attend such an undertaking. There were at this time about forty -five prisoners con- fined in this place, a motley assembly of characters, from varioirs nations in Europe as well as America. These were a class of people of the most abandoned principles, hardened in the school of vice and danger; consequently, I believed them to possess the most unshaken courage and daring fortitude, of any class of men inhabiting the globe. Hqw I was deceived in this opinion you will learn by the relation following. The bomb-proof, where we were confined, -was about eighty feet in length, fronting the south, having only one door, which looked likev^■ise to the south. A yard, with pickets, about six feet high, inclosed the front of our pri- son. The area of the yard was about one fourth of an acre. This- yard was made in a square form, and a guard-house composed a part of the yard, standing in the south-east corner. There was a passage through the house, by which the soldiers on guard could come in and go out of the yard. The ground r.round this yard was considerably .ligher than it was v.ithin, on every side except the west, where the gate was placed through which we used to go to our STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 167 work in the shop. There v/as a brass field-piece placed about ten feet from the guard-house, upon the highest ground on the island, loaded Mith grape-shop, and a sup- ply of ammunition constantly by it, for the purpose of pre- venting vessels from passing the Castle without liberty. The governor's house stood on the bomb-proof, and having a walk upon the top of it ; a sentry constantly* stood there to observe vessels, kc. A sentry constantly walked in the yard, to observe the motions of the prisoners ; to keep them from coming out of the prison until the moment in which orders were given for them to turn out to work ; to give the guard notice at such times, Avho were all under arms, the moment that our doors were unlocked. This guard consisted of a ser- geant, corporal, and twelve privates. There was a row of barracks a little distance north of the governor's house, in which the garrison soldiers lived. The officers' barracks were about forty rods westward of our prison, down the IhII, contiguous to the water. The shop, where we were confined to labor, was about forty rods beyond the officers' barracks, in a southern direction. When we were turned out of our prison, to be taken to the work-shop, three sentries attended lis, who perpetu- ally stood round the shop, to hinder any prisoner from leaving it. Here we continued till 12 o'clock, and were th^n taken back to the prison, where we continued half an hour, then returned to the shop in like manner, contin- uing our work tiii sunset. After we had finished our day- labor, we were put into the prison, and confined according to the usual manner, by placing a couple of iron bars»across the outside of our doors, making them fast by letting them into two staples. Matters were in this situation on the island, when I concerted the plan of making myself master of this place. My idea was to watch some favorable moment, to rise on a sudden, and take the garrison by surprise, when thejr were most off their guard, and least prepared to defend such an attack. I endeavored to weigh every circumstance relating to the time and manner, ho^ to make this attack upon the 168 l^IEMOIRS OF garrison. I communicated my views to Philips, of whose courage and valor, I had the highest opinion. I had like- wise the firmest confidence in his wisdom, to plan and pre-concert a system, which would embrace every advan- tage, that the nature of the thing would admit. Various were our ideas upon the subject. Many schemes for ex- ecuting our plans occurred ; but none of them, when thor- oughly investigated, butv/hat had many difficulties, almost insurmountable. Once we had determined in our own minds to embrace the opportunity of coming from work, rush upon and disarm the sentries, who were guarding us, and with our hammers and the arms which we should take from the sentry, make a general assault upon the rest ■ of the garrison. This we found attended with the following difficulties, viz. The least unusual movement by us, would be discov- ered by the sentiy on the governor's house, who would in- stantly give the alarm to the guard, and to the soldiers in the barracks, where arms were always ready ; and they, being more in number considerably than we, and being all armed, would undoubtedly overcome us with ease, seeing they would likewise have the advantage of the ground, being at the heipit of the hill, and we at the bottom. But this was not all. The guard were within a few paces of that field-piece which commanded the island, and when once in possession of that, could subdue or destroy us, in opposition to every effort which we could make. More- over, when we came from the shop to the prison, the com- manding officer, Major Perkins, had ever his attention upon us, and observed all our movements with the great- est attention. This scheme was attended with so many difficulties which appeared insurmountable, that we laid it aside as impracticable. We then thought of embracing the opportunity which Sunday offered to rise on the garrison. Every Sunday, the soldiers and prisoners were assembled in one of the barracks to attend divine service. The soldiers occupied one end of the barrack, and the prisoners the other. The garrison generally assembled without arms ; and, of con- seg^uence,werc not so formidable in that situation, as when STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 169 T:hey had their guns in their hands loaded, and bayonets fixed. The guard, however, kept their places, which rendered this project klike impracticable. The greater number of the prisoners were at this time in irons ; and of consequence, when we should attennpt to make prisoners of the soldiers, a scuilie would uuavoida- bly ensue ; and, as they would oat-number us, we should have but a bare possibility of succeeding even with the soldiers in the barracks, seeing so great a proportion of us were in irons ; and should we succeed in this respect, yet the guard would unavoidably be alarmed ; and being in possession of the field-piece, they could, with the greatest ease, sweep us away. These difficulties were thought too great to make the attempt upon the garrison in that way : they v.ere of course given up as impracticable. We finally agreed upon the TTiorning, as the best time to execute such an insurrection. We were awakened by the overseer about half way be- tween day -break and sun-rise. Immediately after the words " turn out, turn out," had been given by the overseer, he retired, and was generally absent about half an hour, when he returned, and finding us all dressed, turned us out, and took us to the shop to work. The doors ot our prison were not fastened in this interim. The guard were ynder arms, and the sentry walking backv/ard and forward be- fore our door, to prevent any from going out. My reasoning upon the prospect of success attending this undertaking, was of the following nature : " It is nov.- warm weather," said I, it being the last of May, or the be- ginning of June ; " therefore, sleep has the most power- ful effect upon man in the cool of the morning ; this will prevent the officers and soldiers sleeping in the barracks from being so easily awakened and aroused. The first and most diScult object is the guard. They are, at such times, under arms, and therefore under a situation far su- perior to ours ; but, as we could out number them, and as I entertained an opinion of the prowess of the priboners, far beyond that of the soldiers, I think, pretiy probable, we may succeed in making them prisoners Af.er that object should be effected, then it will be easy to becon.c p MEMOIRS OF master of the field-piece, and when that is obtained, we ai e mi sters of the island at once. When we become mas- ters of the island, we are in a situation which will place us upon a footing of no mean standing. We, by being mas- ters of the garrison, become likewise possessed of the command of ihe harbor of Boston ; of all the vessels going out and coming in ; therefore, can appropriate them to what use we lind the exigences of the times will require. Wc shall likewise be in possession of provision, arms and ammunition of every kind. W^arlike stores will be in our power, of every kind, snould we find occasion to use them. 1 think that the prospect of escape by water, after we have overcome the garrison, will be more eligible than to at- tempt another fight by land : and as it wdll be in our pow- er to arm a vessel, and equip her every way for defence, and a long voyage, it would be almost impossible, even should they pursue after and overtake us, to master us at sea. W^e shall likewise be able to prevent their following us from the harbor of Boston with any great strength, by blowing up the magazine, and spiking the cannon. In this situation, I would leave the inimical shores of Ameri- ca, and rather seek an asylum among the inhospitable in- habitants of Barbary." These were the outlines of my plan ; and I determined to make one powerful effort to carry it into execution. Either to lose my life in the cause of liberty, or else gain a glorious freedom. And now, sir, before I go on to the relation of this insurrection, pevmit me make some reflec- tions upon my situation, and the operations of my mind under it. I had ever a warmth of feeling in following any object of pursuit, perhaps, peculiar to myself. From the first moment of my imprisonment, I felt a degree of insupport- able impudence at confinement, and an ardent desire of the enjoyment of liberty, entirely beyond description. The various unfortunate attempts which I had made for the pui-pose of liberating myself, did not serve to cool my ar- dor for obtaining this object ; but my desires for liberty increased in proportion to the time of my remiuning con- fined; and the misfortunes attending it. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 171 Reasoning upon the various occurrences which had been closely concerned in brins^ing me to this state of wretch- edness, and upon the motives by which I had been actuat- ed under every scene through which I had passed, I con- cluded that my punishment was greater than I ought to bear. And even at this day, I am under great doubts how I ought to have acted through all those trying scenes. I know much is due to government. Personal inconveni- ence is to be borne, rather than government should suffer any injury, and for this plain reason, viz. that upon the un- interrupted administration of justice by government, de- pends the welfare of the whole community. But there are circumstances under which a man may be justifiable in opposing, at least, the despotic transactions of cruelty in government towards an individual. WhethCi' this was the case with me, sir, I leave you to judge. I had suffered, during my state of confinement in North- ampton, the most unheard of course of illegal cruelty, and that too in a very notorious manner ; so that the branches of government must universally be apprised of it. And this punishmeot was inflicted likewise by one of the offi- cers of government. Therefore, under such circum- stances, whether I had not just reason to suppose the most arbitrary and unjust measures were prescribed against me by government, your own good sense will determine. This officer never received the frov/ns of government for his conduct, but remained in high favor to the day of his death : neither was I ever compensated for the injuries which I here received. Moreover, when the scene was reversed, and one of their number became dependent upon my will for his life, his liberty, and his safety ; and under that situation, I had. put my ow^n life at stake to save his ; and had shielded and protected him from danger in the time of his distress ; af- ter this, as soon as I had fallen into the hands of govern- ment, what was their laiiguage ? Why, that I should re- ceive an hundred lashes at the postl ! I recollect to have read an account respecting a Turk, '.vho was a slave in Venice. He was asked by a Venetian merchant, " why he wore that c.£pect of perpetual glocj i 172 MEMOIRS OF on his countenance, and now and then appeared to strag- gle to suppress the starting tear r" The Turk replied, *' Can it appear strange to you, that I should lose enjoyment v.ith the loss of that which is the foundation upon which we buiid all our joy r*' ." What would you do,'* said the Venetian, " to gain your liberty i" " Ho, by Allah 1" s*iid the Turk, " name the conditions : place danger and death before me in their most horrid forms ; and if I do not pay the price, then say that Hamet is not worthy of liberty." When I heard this story of the Turk and the Venetian, my feelings entered immecliately into the meaning of the Turk's observations. I could there discover and read the language of the human heart, notwithstanding he was a Turk. My heart panted to tell him, " Yes, thou infidel Turk, get thee hence from the laud of Christianity, and enjoy the pleasure of hberty, even in thy unbelieving country." His feelings were what mine had been : the language of the heart is the same among Turks and Christians, Jews and Gentiles, See. Sec. 8cc. " Shame on that heart that never felt " A fellow-creature's woes ; — " Yet tenderly affects to melt " In pity — for a rose." Sir, accept my most sincere wish for your happiness, combined with your family's, and believe me to be, &c. CHAP. XX. ." O, cruelty ! *' Thy touch, thy dead'ning touch, has steel'd the breast, " Where, through her rain-bow shovvcr, soft pity smil'd ; ** Has clos'd the heart, each God-like virtue blest, " To all the silent pleadings of hxs child. *' At thy command he plants the dagger deep, ** At thy command exults, tho' nature bid him weep f XT was on Sunday, when I made my arrangements among the prisoners, for our great effort, appointing the morning STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 17: following for the time of operation. There were 35 prison- ers, in whom I phiced the utmost confidence, as to their courage and undaunted resolution. Ten of whom I had selected to be with me in taking the guard ; and twenty- five I had left to be headed by Philips, who were to repair immediately to the barracks, and secure the officers and arms ; intending, if possible, to accomplish the business without blood-shed. After I had made the necessary dispositions, I exhort- ed the prisoners, " to be firm and courageous ; to ab- stain from all acts of cruelty, which were not absolutely necessary ; and, above all things, to pay the strictest at- tention to the orders given, that all might act in concert ; to abstain from spirituous liquors.'* And this I meant to make more certain, by knocking all the casks on the head. As taking the guard was much the most difficult part of this business to execute, I had selected out ten of the most desperate fellows among the prisoners, to follow me. I told them that I did not wish for them to go further into dangers than I went myself; that I expected them to fol- low and support me, as far as I weni, and no further. To this they all agreed, without the least hesiLaiion ; and con- firmed their agreement by the most solemn assurance, th?.t they would remain by me till death or liberty. After all matters were adjusted upon this system, we went to bed with all our clothes on, so that we might arise the next morning, immediately after the door should open, and the overseer should depart. After 1 had lain down, the importance of the scene before me kept me from clos- ing my eyes through the whole night. *' Ha ! not a breath of vrind ! no gentle breeze, " To fan the darksome gloom ! no luIHed wave " Disturbs this silent port of life, nor moves " The sleeping calm ; a death-like silence reigns. " Those storms of wrath, that oft by t}Tants breath'd, " Have shook the trembling world, now die away ; *' In whispers lost — the froth of heighten'd pride " Beats on the rocks, and wounds itself to death : ** The pomp of kings, the sycopliantic breath " Of soothing flatt'rers, and menial crowds, " The voice cf slander, the destructive bla.st=i p 2 174 MEMOIRS OF " Of env}% self-distracting, softly seem, " Like dying thunders in a distant cloud, " Gently to vanish from the list'ning ear. " Death, rigid death, impartially declares " That man is nothing but a heap of dust, " Clay-cold, insensible. Wipe from thy cheek, " O man ! the soft emasculating tear ; " For die thou must : just as by Natiu'e's streams, - " In easy mazes roll thin l\-mpid tides, " A tribute to the main. Thus art thou bora " For sliort-liv'd glory — ^pre-ordain'd to die. ** Tlie thoughts of obsequies, convidsions, groans; " *Tis these distract thy soul. The kiss of death " Is soft and harmless. Golden rest attends it ; " And soon dissolves the fearful dream of life. " Nature's gi'eat^pv is death. As rising flames " Seek their congenial place, and m.ount to heav'n, " Thus haste we to our end. The bloom of youth " Expels our infant years : then hoary age " Encroaches on the man, and shuts the scene." I waited 'with impatience for the approach of morn. This, of all nights through my life, appeared the longest. I often arose and went to the grates to see if I" could dis- cern any signs of day. At last the moment appeared ! I heard the overseer enter and vociferate with great clamor, " turn out, turn out," and immediutely departed. I arose with precipitation, and hasted to gather those who were destined to act different parts, in the business, into bodies by themselves. I observed a few got out of their bods wiih some reluctance. Philips I saw appear^ ed cxti-emely pale. I asked him what was the matter ? lie told me he felt sick. I answered, that the moment did not admit of attention to sickness. He came to the spot and took charge of his men. I ordered one of my men to secure the sentry in the yard the moment I gave the signal for starting. He took a stick about three feet ion^ and two inches in diameter, and stood ready to exe- cute his part. When I tame to the spot where I could observe the guard, T saw them under arms, and standing in the door of the ^uard-housc, with their bayonets fixed. This sight was by no means calculated to ensure our success ; but ^Dtkr.o'vin^ what exeriion would eftect, I determined to STEPHEN BimROUGHS. 175 make the push at all hazards. I therefore clapped my hands, the signal for rushing, and sprang forward towards the guard-house, expecting the ten, whom I had appoint- ed to that business, were close following me- The sol- diers seeing me coming towards them, presented the points of their bayonets to prevent my entering the guard- house. I parted the bayonets with my hands, and disarm- ed two men in a moment. This I did by a sudden jerk, when I caught hold of these two guns. I immediately turned the bayonets towards the soldiers, when they gave back, and I entered the guard-house. I pronounced im- mediate death upon any one who dared to oppose me. I ordered them, in a very peremptory manner, " to lay down their arms and retire behind the guard-bed." They obey- ed — two made their escape, and fled out of the guard- house, giving the alarm to the ofFiCers and soldiers in the barracks, together with the sentry on the governor's house. When I entered the guard-house, I carried with me two guns, intending to give one to the first who followed me, in order that he might prevent any of the guard from es- <;aping through that door, and to secure the other myself: wishing to prevent any alarm, until the other party of twenty -five had time to get to the barracks ; but imagine, sir, my disappointment and astonishment, when I looked and saw myself alone, without one of the prisoners to as- sist me 1 ! When I first started, Philips' courage failed. He turn- ed and ran into the room out of which he came, undressed and jumped into bed. The rest, seeing this, were all struck with a panic, ran back and went to bed : thinking by this mean to make the officers believe, that they had no part nor lot in this business. Therefore, I found the guard my prisoners, and myself a prisoner to the guard. I saw the soldiers and officers from the barracks, run- ning tovv^ards the guard house, with their clothes in the utmost disorder ; some half dressed, and others naked, a shirt excepted. Seeing the day was lost, I turned, and ran Qut of the guard-house, making again towards ths prison, carrying my guns with me. The sergeant of the guard, who, but a minute before, had been begging his 176 MEMOIRS OF life in the most abject state of fear, now began to bustle towards me with his gun, as though he had been in close contest from the beginning, and intended to sacrifice mc to his fury. He ran after me, hallooing, " Burroughs, you devil you, I'll kill you, Til kill you." I turned indig- nant towards the coward, and threw my guns at him with the points of the bayonets forward. One of the bayonets took his hand, and entered the skin about an inch. At this, he bawled out in the bitterest manner, " I'm wound- ed, I'm killed!" The officers and soldiers rushed into the prison, laid hold of me, and brought me again into the yard. Major Perkins with his sword, lieutenant Treat and Burbeck with their rattans, were all lashing me at once, with the greatest violence. At this crisis, the sergeant, whom I had wounded, came up with his gun, and struck me over the head with all his might. The blood flew quick into my face, I moved suddenly towards the pitiful villain ; at which he ran, making a noise more like a calf than a man. I was then confined by a pair of heavy irons, commonly called shackles, taken to the whipping-post, and there rp - ceived an hundred stripes, which were laid on in a very serious manner, causing the blood to stream at every stroke, so that my shoes were filled by the lime I was tak- en down. This, sir, was a heavy stroke, too much even for my iron constitution to support. I fell under it. A fit of sickness succeeded, vfhich continued about three months, making the prospect doubtful how my career might ter- terminate. O I happy, thrice happy should I have been, had I fallen here I and closed the troubled scene of life ! " O terque, quaterque beati, queis Trojse sub maenibus- altis, contigit oppetere I"* During my sickness, I had to contend with inconveni- ences of no small magnitude. There was no provision made for the sick ; therefore, salt beef and bread were all the necessaries provided for me by government. A med- ical gentleman, from the town ol Boston, influenced by * O thrice, and four times happy those, v/ho should be so fortu- nate as to die under the lofty walls of Troy ! Yibgii. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. irr the mere emotions of compassion, visited me under this scene of distress, and administered to my necessities. The name of this humane ornament of nature I have forgotten, but think it was Elliot. My back was extremely sore ; and having a pair of hea- vy irons on my legs, I could lie in no other position than on my back. Major Perkins wished to liberate me from the irons around my legs, during the fit of sickness, but was absolutely forbidden by his superiors, until near two months after my punishment, when he was allowed to take them off. My situation, and course of perpetual suffering, caused me to repine bitterly at the hand of fjrovidence. It a.p- peared that I was marked out as an object for the heaviest strokes of misery to be reiterated upon, until I should be finally swallowed up by the power of their force. Why, said I, should all this befal me ? Do these misfortunes hap- pen as a punishment to vicious conduct ? And am I so self- blinded as not to be sensible of my own unheard of wick- edness ? For certainly, if the wickedness of my conduct has been equal to my sufferings, I have been, of all man- kind, the most abandoned. But, said I again, is this rea- soning just ? Do the wicked suffer, while the just are in a state of constant prosperity ? Let us advert to facts for evi- dence upon this subject. I believe that matters of fact will prove, that the best of men have suffered, in this state of imperfection, in an equal degree with the worst. We will instance Socrates and Aristides of the ancients, and the immortal Columbus, among those of a more modern date. Many instances might I produce even among ourselves, were it necessa- ry ; but one moment's reflection upon this subject is enough to confute the idea entirely, of a person's misfor- tunes being any evidence of his moral turpitude. Then why is it that some are marked out, in the course of events, to endure the heaviest strokes of misfortune in one con- tinued series, is to me an inexplicable mystery in the course of Providence. Since I started into life, how has my course been che- (^uered ! Even death, the last resort of the wretched, has w8 MEMOIRS OF fled from my approaches, as thoughc autious of his friend- ly presence, administering comfort rather than terror. Is it not strange, that death should join with mankind, and even refuse the morsel afforded to his embrace, in order to fill up my measure of sufferings ? When I set the jail on fire at Northampton, I thought it out of the power of malice itself to prevent the approach of the moment of my quietus; but was disappointed. I then expected to have found an end to my trouble, in the cold embrace of death, in the dungeon ; and here I found the tyrant eluding my pursuit. When I rose on the garrison, it appeared to me certain that I should meet with death or liberty, but alas ! in both was I deceived. Then surely, said I, this punish- ment added to sickness, must close" the eventful scene ; but, horrid to relate, I was reserved for woes, which yet untold, made my former sufferings vanish awtiy, as not worthy of notice. Are these matters painted to you, sir, in colors too high for the simple statement of facts ? No, sir, indeed they are truths, the force of which I must feel while I set poring over the scenes ; though they are past and gone, yet have left a mortal sting behind. Soon after I was able to walk about, I was visited by a gentleman, whose name I never recollect without feeling that warmth of affection and glow of gratitude, which fills my soul with rapture. This gentleman's name was Sum- mers. He was my father's sister's son. He commanded a vessel then in the harbor of Boston. He possessed an enlarged mind, which looked above the clamor of vulgar prejudice ; and where he saw the course of humanity lead, he pursued his way, let it be ever so unpopular. This gentleman made me a visit, even against the custom of the world. He was the first relative that ever came or sent to me on this gloomy place. He saw my necessities. He administered to my relief. He poured the balm of conso- lation into my wounded mind. He conducted as a man ought to conduct, who is governed by a spirit of true bene- volence. He continued to visit me from time to time, during the whole course of my confinem.ent on this island. Having been disappointed in my efforts for an esccipe,' and that too by the cowardly, perfidious conduct of my fcl- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 179 low-prisoners, I pretty much gave up the idea of making any further attempts for my liberation; but concluded to reconcile my mind in the best manner possible, to the idea of wearing away the time of my confinement. I therefore told Major Perkins, that I would give up the idea of ever making another attempt for escape, if he would not put me in irons, give me the liberty of the island, and not sub- ject me to the direction or authority of Rifford, the over- seer. Major Perkins believed me sincere. He ever had occasion to believe what I told him, by way of contract, while I was under his care. He agreed to allow me the privilege, provided I would discover any attempt of the prisoners to escape. I told Major Perkins, that being un- der the same condemnation with the other prisoners, I had no intention to purchase any privilege at their expense. That I shouid by no means give them any aid in their es- cape ; neiiher should I be a hindrance to them. After some days trial to obtain my promise for discovering any attempt of the prisoners to procure their liberty, without success, he agreed to my proposal ; and gave me liberty of going to any part of the island, without a sentry to at- tend me. This was a great degree of freedom, compared with what I had enjoyed ; and therefore, most sensibly felt. My situation was as eligible as the nature of things would admit ; and I, even in this state of servile wretchedness, began to look forward with the pleasing expectation of of better days. " Whatever difF'rent ways mankind pursue, " O happiness ! 'tis thee we keep in view 1 " 'Tis thee, in ev'ry action we intend, " The noblest motive, and superior end ! " Thou dost the scarcely finish'd soul inclines " Its first desire, and constant tho't, is thine * " Our infant breasts ai-e sway'd by thee alone, " "When pride and jealousy are yet unknown. " Thou art, of all our waking thot's, the theme ; " We court thee too, in ev'iy nightly di-eam. " Whither the roads that to perdition lead, " Or those that guide us to the stars, we tread ; " Thine is the hope, the inestimable prize, " The glorious mark, on which vre fix oiu- eyes." 180 MEMOIRS OF About this time an incident took place, which gave nie the most sensible pain. At a certain time, a number of people from Boston came on to the island, among whom was Thomas Gushing, son to the lieutcnant-govenior. When these people came among the prisoners, they asked money of them, as was the general custom. Gushing took a dollar out of his pocket, and gave it me ; telling me at the same time, to give each of the prisoners a glass of rum out of the avails of the dollar ; and departed without wait- ing for an answer. The prisoner, who had been instru- mental in obtaining the money, entertained an idea of his being entitled to a larger share of the dollar than the oth- ers ; and therefore proposed a division with me. My re- j)ly was, that the money was given to me for a particular purpose; and as I accepted the gift, I had implicitly pledged my faith to execute the trust reposed in me. I told him, that a glass of rum must be given to each pris- oner, if the dollar would purchase a sufficient quantity for that purpose ; and that I should perform that as soon as I could obtain permission of Major Perkins. I accordingly made application to the Major, for liberty to give the convicts a glass of rum. He told me, that it was out of his power to grant my request at that time ; but that Governor Gushing would be on the island in a few days ; that he would consult him on the subject, and see if it would answer to grant such permission. While I was waiting the issue of this business, Thomas Gushing came on to the island again ; and the prisoner. Mount, by name, who had asked him for money before, now made application again for more mone)t. Gushing answered Mount, that he thought it a shame for him to ask for money again, so soon after leaving a dollar with Burroughs for them all. Mount told him, that Burroughs had kept the money himself, and the other prisoners had received nothing. Gushing then asked for an explanation of the business. I told him how the matter was situated ; and rejoined, that I would divide the money, if that was agreeable to his feelings. He left me without an answer. Not long after. Gushing being in company with a number of gentlemen in Boston, amongst whom w»s a Mr. May, STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 131 a rational philanthropist ; he, in a pompous declaration re- specting his own excellent q\ialiiies of heart, related, that he had given three dollars to Burroughs, for the prison- ers, and that Burroughs had appropriated them to his own use, refusing to participate with any others in the benefit of the money. Mr. .May entered with warmth into the subject, and when he saw^ me, expostulated upon the im- propriety of my conduct ; and wi^en I g^ve him a simple narration of facts, he seemed to hesitate about giving cre- dit to a report so different from Cushing*s. This circumstance, you may think, was of too small con- sequence to find a place in this narration ; but the reason why I relate it, is the disagreeable effect it had upon rny mind ; having met wMih but few incidents wliich have giv- en me keener sensations, than this trivial occurrence. As the remaining part of my confinement was ended -without any very remarkable occurrence, I will not dwell upon the uninteresting events ; but only observe, that the terms of agreement between the Major and myself^ were ever kept inviolate by both parties. I will, likewise, give you an extract of some letters which passed betv/cen me and my friends, while I remained here, and then pass from the disagreeable subject. The first letter I received was from that uncle, who liad relieved me in NorthamJJton 4 It was to the following amount : Charlton^ April 20 th^ 1788. Beloved A'spheiv, I sincerely wish and hope, that your long and painful confinement may prove an advantage to you, by giving you time to reflect, seriously, upon your past misconduct. As that was in your thoughtless and youthful days, and as you have now arrived to the age of maturity, I beg of you to consider with yourself, seriously, what an awful and disar greeable situation you will soon be in, after you are liberat- ed, if you should enter into an unlawful course of life. As you have now, by experience, tasted of the -evil nature of transgression, and are nov/ in a situation to figure to your- self the happy condition of those, who, by a course of hon- est industr)', procure for themselves and their dependents, 32 MEMOIRS OF an honorable and honest living through life. I wish you 3iiay exercise that wisdom which nature has given you, to learn the difference between a regular life and a course of unlawful pursuits. You must be sensible, that you will not only render yourself happy by a course of regular con- duct, but will greatly increase the happiness of your rela- lations, and all who wish you well. We all hope and de- sire, that you will be so kind to yourself and to us, as to coolly and faithfully improve the good sense and reason wiiich the all-wise Being has so bountifully bestowed up- on you ; and I think that under the influence of this rea- son, you will immediately after your liberation, repair to your parents, or to my house, or to some of your relations, who can help you to l3usiness, and to those things you will be destitute of, and without which, you will be very un- comfortable. By doing this you will avoid many great and trying temptations. I am in no doubt but by a steady uniform course of m^U doing, you may re-establish your reputation, and again be a serviceable member of society. On the contrary, should you again, at this time of life, return to bad courses, eve- ry one would despair of your ever reforming, and you must be lost forever ; which may the all-wise Being enable you to prevent, by a wise and virtuous course of life, for the future, is the sincere desire and prayer of your most af- fectionate uncle. EBENEZER DAVIS. Soon after the receipt of the foregoing letter, I receiv- ed another from my mother's youngest brother, to the following import : Oxford, May \2th, 1788. Dear JS^ephejv, A recent opportunity has given me the pleasure of hear- ing that your conduct has been good and unexceptionable, since your unftrtuniite attempt on the garrison. I enter- tijn the most ardent desire that it may continue. Your long and severe confinement is almost at an end. Soon again you will taste the sweets of liberty, of which STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 183 you have been deprived so lon^. I should advise you, by all means, to return to your friends. You are, and will be, destitute of clothes when your time of servitude has expired ; therefore, without clothes, without friends, with- out money, and coming off the Castle with the prejudices which mankind entertain against one who has been con- fined there^ you will find it impossible to gain a subsis- tence among mankind, in an honest way, without you come to your friends, who can help you to those things which you wiH stand in need of. I remain your affectionate uncle, JONATHAN DAVIS. Hanover^ October \6th, 1787. Dear Child, It is notour present object to lay open to your view the bleeding hearts of your parents. The attempt would be in vain ; for it is wholly beyond the power of language to express. If the reports be true with respect to the atro- city of your conduct, we cannot but acquiesce in the met.s- iires taken by government to punish suph acts, which are pregnant with ruin to the civil commun^y. Did we pay attention to nothing but the yearnings of our hearts to- wards you ; did we consult nothing but the dictates of nat- ural affection ; to part with an only son in this manner ; to consider you as being lost to God, to your parents, and to your generation ; is a consideration which would swell the tide of our sorrows, and render them like an overflow- ing deluge. But we fully believe, that our times and changes are in God's hands ; that he has given us this cup of trembling, and that it becomes us to be still under this severe stroke of his rod. What further trials he mav mete out for us, in his dealings with you, we know not ; but this .one thing we know, thrtt in reh.tion to any thing that may concern you in futuc^it becomes us to cast all our care upon God and to leavlPfou in his hands. When we recollect, that there is yet a jprobability, that ■we may see you again, and behold in your conduct the fruits of repentance for your misconduct ; v.e cannot help feast- ing our hearts with such a pleasing contemplation. No- thing which this world could afford, would be greater comfort to us, than your return under such a situation. i8^ MEMOIRS OF In the mean time, it is our ardent and pressinj^ desire, thiit your behavior ;rind conduct may be framed in such a inunner, as to be to the good acceptance of those who are appointed to have the oversi.^ht of you, during the remain- der of that servitude to which you are confined. It has ever opened the avenues of grief, and added fresh i.njuish to our sorrows, to hear of any attempts in you, to get free from your confinement by unwarrantable meas- UlCH. it would be acceptable to us, to have a line from yt>u, specifying the state of your mind, and what your purpos- es are, in relation to your future pursuits. In the mean time, take this as a testimony of love intermingled with the most heartfelt grief and anguish, from your afflicted iir.d sorrowful parents, E. and A. BURROUGHS. Castle-Ialand, J^''ovember 27 th^ 1787. Honored and dear PaxenTs, Your favor of ,the 16th ult. was duly received. Were I to undeitake to describe the sensations which it created, I know I should f.iil in the attempt. Notwitlistandin;^ my being considered as an outcast among mankind ; and under that consideration, treated as the worst of villains, and vilest of slaves, yet it has not dissolved that tie of natural affection which binds me to tirose who gave me breath. 'i'o undertake a vindication of my conduct, is an object enLirely out of my view at present ; but I would suggest, the same naturLd course attends common fame, when ap- piied to me, as it univers;.diy ha^ done vvhen applied to any other person or object ; therefore, wish you to make those aliowonces, which cuidor will dictate under my peculiar i^iluation. i^^^ Could you read th^H^age of my heart, you would there see the most sincere desire for your comfoit through liie. My situation is such, I am seni.ible, as to offer no very plc.bing view to the minds of parents towards a child ; yet, it is a situation, which at present is out of m.y power to alter. The Ume will come, when I shall ?gain be call- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 186 cd to act my part on the stage of life, as a member of the civil community ; that time Avill discover whether the principles of virtue are the governing laws of my mind. I feel my task too arduous and difficult. Life's path is environed with errors, thick on every side. I shall have the passions and prejudices of a hard hearted world to con\bat ; whether I shall be competent to the task, is yet in the womb of futurity. It must be a most pleasing ob- ject with m.e, once more to mix with society upon honor- able terms, and enjoy the blessings of friendship, after be- ing shutout from those enjoyments this length of time. As to the object of my pursuits, after my time of servi- tude shall expire, I candidly declare, that I have not fixed upon any. I should receive any advice upon that subject, from you with pleasure. As to the state of my mind ; I view myself as an in- habitant of a vacant desolate country. There are none amongst all the world to whom I feel thatglovv of friend- ship, together with an ecjuality of statioriihliich renders society pleasing. Long as I have remaiTOBr in the con- verse and society of this motly collection of charactersj of which the convicts are composed, yet I have no relish for their society. Should I receive no assistance from my friends, at the time of my departui^ from this place, I must leave the island absolutely naked ; having long since parted v/ith all my own clothes to satisfy the calls of hunger- I am, with duty and esteem, vour affectionate son, SPEPHEN BURROUGPIS. E. and A. Burroughs. About three weeks previous totbe expiration of the time of my confinement, my un^jMbenezer Duyis came to see me on the island, brough^^e some clothes, and gave me money sufficient to provide myself with v.hat things were necessary to my making a decent appearance, and likewise to support myself on the road to his house. The happy moment arrived I How beautiful was that d.^y I Of all the days of my life, this was the most beautiful aLcl serene. The verv' heaven and elements were in unison q 2 186 MEMOIRS OF uith my feelings. I, for the first timcj for the term of thirty montlis, dressed myself in clean, decent apparel. 1 heard the sentence from majcu- Perkins, "' Burroughs, you ra-e free," Avith a sensation orjoy that is inexpressible. My heart bounded like tlie roe on the mountain 1 I went into the boat, the sea was smooth, and the wind was calm 1 the heavens were mild and serene ; the sun was beauti- ful beyond description ! the boat glided over the smooth surface cf the waters with a facility that was enchanting t " Sweet memon-, Ava-fced by tlie ^ntle gale, " Oft up llie tide of time I turn iny sail, " To view the fuiry haimts of long lost hours, " Blest with far greener shades, fur fresher bow'rs." Having now ended in my narrative a tedious and bitter confinement, which lasted me three y&ars and five weeks, I will here end this letter. I wish to make some refiec- lions upon the nature of the punishment by servitude ; and as that wijjpfeike up too much time for this, I will re- serve it for t^ subject of another letter. In the mean time believe me as u:.u^l, &c. CHAP. XXI. '^Bicsl be that hfend divine, wlilcli gently laid " My heart at rest, beneath this huir.ble sjied. *• The world's a stalely bark on dangerous seas, " With pleasure soeii, but boaixlcd at our peril. JjLvS I i'.uimated to you, sir, in my last, that the subject of this letter would be a consitleration of the nature of pun- scrvitudfligj^ow take up that matter in obe- ly promiseWWThis is a subject of which I have ation in some measuve ; and therefore, may to know its natural effect upon the human heart, as well as most men. The object of punishment ever ought to be the preser- vation i)i the good order of society, by a reformation of those who are cisordei j through a vicious disposition, or STEPHEN BURROUGHS. a mistaken apprehendon cf matters. The Lcncoty of a legislative body will ever point at that, and their lav* 3 will ever affect that where 2 sufficient fund of information di- lects their les-islative acts. Whether the system cf ser- -viiude upon its present establishment, does answer the purpose of producing a reformation in the disoidcrly, is the question now under consideration. There was en the Castle an assemblage of characters from various parts of the globe : some old in iniquity, and others but timid beginners in the ways cf transgression. Here, the objects cf honor and promotion were reveised. In a winter evening's tale, you would not hear the feats of virtue recounted as a recommendaticn. These v. ere ob- jects treated with contempt. On the other hand, that person who could relate the most desperate and daring transgression of the laws of national justice, was consider- ed the most honorable character among the prisoners ; while those, who were novices in wickedness, shrunk from an examination of their deeds, and felt a degree of little- ness, because they had nothing worthy of giving them- selves a name among those heroes of the night. The natural effect of this you will easily conceive. Where our ambition leads -we generally make progress. Those who would blush at the thought of their illicit con- duct when they first arrived at the Castle, would now soon- er blush at the small part which they have acted in the way cf transgression. They would listen with attention to the acts of those whom they considered as their masters in iniquiiy ; this is a lesson but too easily learnt. Their whole object was, discovering and inventing means to carry tlieir diabolical puiposes into execution immediately upon their liberation. Finally, this of all others, was the most perfect school of vice that I ever saw. For a man to remain uncontaminat- ed by this society, after continuing in it a number of years, he must have more solid philosophy^ than I believe man- kind generally possess. Under these circumstances, how can this institution serve to reform the morals of men ? Facts prove, that instead of becoming good members cf society, the convicts have generally, taken to a courss o8 MEMOIRS OF of the most arocious transgressions after their libera- tion. Indeed, the situation of the prisoners is such, vvhen they re liberated, that all motives for doing v/ell are taken .way. They generally, at that time, find themselves naked, moneyless, and friendless. Tlieir previous confinement on the Castle is a suivicient objection to their being em- ployed in business ; therefore, supposing them possessed of virtuous principles, v.-hatcan such virtues do in this situ- ation. They ha^ e the same necessities to supply that oth- er men have, and where they fmd that government has not only confined them to servitude for a number of years, but has, moreover, taken away the prospect of earning a small pittance of bread by industry, will the feelings of na- ture allow them to consider any obligation which govern- jnent may require, as binding ? I saw the effects of this system of servitude whilst I was a prisoner on the Castle. I published my sentiments upon the subject for the consideration of the legislature. Little attention was paid4o my reasoning, in so low a situation. Had these sentiments come from one in a more exalted station, they might, perhaps, have been understood better, and the reasoning upon such a subject been more clear and convincing. I will not detain you with any further observations upon this subject, but proceed in the narrative. I went immediately to the house of Richard Devens, Esq. with whom I took breakfast, having received a pre- vious invitation for that purpose before I left the island. Immediately after breakfast, the good old man, taking me into a private room, entered into conversation upon my present prospects. I tolcl him that I had concluded to repair to my uncle's at„pharlton, who had supplied rae with ncces^ries for my appearing again in the world. It appeared to rejoice him to hear that I was not left friend- less. He said he had it in contemplation to help me, if no other person appeared for that purpose. He gave me counsel as a parent would give to a child. He appeared to be interested in my future welfare. He presented mc with a dollar, wishing me to accept it as a token of his es- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 189 teem, and good wishes.* After this, I immediately re- paired to Long Wharf, where Capt. Summers lay with his vessel. I here met that philanthropist upon the shores of liberty, who had so often relieved my distress in a state of slavery. My sensations at this meeting were exqui- sitely pleasing. I tarried with him two days ; and during that time an accident took place which gave me an op- portunity of feeling the extremes of pain and joy in a very ahort space. The matter was this : Capt. Summers coming into his cabin at a certain time, where he had left me, missed his watch, which he sup- posed he had left hanging in the cabin. He enquired of all the hands whether they had seen or taken his watch from the place where he left it. Their answers were in the negative. He asked if any body had been on board the vessel that morning ; they said no. I saw his coun- tenance was troubled. He felt in a situation too delicate to know what measure to take. My feelings at this time were as disagreeable as though I had been covered with burning embers. I knew that the appearance must be that I had taken the watch. No other person could take it. The watch was gone. What a horrid figure of in- gratitude I must now make, said I, in the mind of that man, abore all others, to whom I wish to appear amiable ! A single word was not uttered for the course of half an hour. A diimal gloom hung over the countenance of ev- ery one present ; at length we were ail relieved by the arrival of the mate, who brought the watch on board, hav- ing carried it to a watch-maker to have some work done to it which WU3 necessary. The sight of the \v\itch instantly dispelled the gloom from every countenance ; we ail feit the erlects, as though a shock of electricity had operated upon us. Captain Summers burst into a laugh, patting me on the shoulder,, saying, ''one hundred doliari .vould net make me lo ghid as the sight of that watch." * Burroughs has given a true specimen cf this gentleman's cuur- acter Ihrougli a long life. He has lately gone to receive tiijs re* waji-as -f tLe righteous li\ a letter -.vorll 190 MEMOIRS OF My sensations were too violent for utterance ; I could not reply ; I felt wounded to death, that, even for one mo- ment, a jealousy should remain in the breast of Captain Summers, of my treachery towards him ; yet, what gave me such exquisite pain was, that circumstances were in such a train, that he could not avoid such a jealousy. I visited a number of my acquaintance during this shoit residence in Boston ; among whom was a Mr. Bingham, wiio was cotemporary with me in College. This man had a warm heart, friendly to mankind, scrupulously nice in every principle of justice, regulating his conduct by the exactest rules of propriety.* After this I took leave of all my acquaintance in Bos- ton, and measured back that road which, nearly three years before, I had been carried through, bound with chains, to Glazier Wheeler. Before I left Boston, Capt. Summers oftered to supply me with a sum of money, for my present necessities ; but as I had a sufficiency already for my trav- eling expenses, until I should arrive at my uncle's, in Charlton, I declined accepting his offer, seeing he had been so bountiful towards me already. It was in the month of September, when I walked thro* the country. To visit again the varied scenes of nature ; to be at liberty, and without the least restraint ; ramble through the country, was a luxury of enjoyment which only those can feel who have been in my situation. " ILiil, memory hail ! in thy exhaustless mines " Fi'om age to age, unninnber'd treasuj-es shine ! •' Tiiouglit and her shadow)" brood th_v calls obey, *' And place and time are subjects to tJiy sway !" * Some of his old acquaintance were blamed by their friends for being seen in Ins comjoany at this period ; and it is but justice to state the motives of the former. They knew his cxcelloU parents ; they were sensible that the feelings of these parents were wrought up to the highest pitch, at this all important crisis, in the fate of their only son. Eiu-roupfhs gave the most positive assurances of ex- erting all his powers to retrieve his character. Had his old fi'iends forsaken liira at this eventful i>eriod, what would he have done? Probably lie would have immediately resorted to his former coiirses; and the doating pai'cnls would have accused these friei^ds of being' instrumental of blasting all their hopes. They also thouglit it their duty to .afrbrd the sim all tlie supi;ort in their power, v/hile he ap- peru'cd to be in earnest to regain his reputation. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 191 I arrived in Charlton the second day after my leaving Boston. As no immediate business offered, I concluded to turn my attention to manual labor, until some opportu- nity should offer for my attending to other business. I went to work among the common laborors of my uncle. This was somewhat mortifying ; but I was determined to endure any inconvenience, rather than give the least idea to any of my friends that I was not willing to use such means as I possessed to gain an honest support. I con- tinued in this business about one month, hoping to obtain a school in this or some of the neighboring to\vns, as soon as the season should approach for that business. I will here give you an extract of a letter from my un- cle to my father, about this time. Charlton^ 25th October^ 1788. Dear brother and sts^er, Your son Stephen is now with me, and has been the greater part of the time since his having left the Castle. He works very steady with my folks on the farm. He has some prospect of teaching a school within this town, or in Oxford. He wishes you to write respecting your desire, relating to his further pursuits ; whether you would have him try to obtain business in these parts, or return home, in order to enter into business with you. He appears to have abil- ity for farming, and as you have a large farm, should he prove tolerable steady, he woul^ greatly tend to ease you of a great deal of care and troufejie ; and it would, likewise, be advantageous to him. He must have some way for a -subsistence ; and there is none attended with less temptations than husbandry. A few days since, I received your letter by Mr. Curtis ; previous to which, I had supplied your son with clothing, so as to come to my house from the Castle ; and agreeably to your desire, shall continue to supply him with what is necessary. I am your loving brother, EBENEZER DAVIS. Rev. E. BvRRouGHS. 192 MEMOIRS OF Charlton, 25th October, 178r8. HOSORED AKD DEAR SIR, You will see by the date of this letter, that I am at liber- ty from the trying scenes of tedious confinement, which I ave endured for such a length of time. The various oc- currences of an unhappy course of misfortunes has left no very favorable impression upon the minds of the public concerning me. I know I have suffered greatly in your esteem in consequence of this likewise, which has added no small degree of poignancy to my sufferings. I hope to justify myself to you at least, by my future conduct. To a censorious world I have no idea of making the attempt, with an expectation of success. I have been in this place about one month, paying some attention to manual labor. I could wish for every degree of counsel respecting my pursuits at this critical juncture, that a parent can bestow. I remain with sentiments of af- fection and dutv, yours, &c. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. Rev. Eden Burroughs. Sometime in the month of November, I engaged to teach a school for one month in the town of Charlton, llhe inhabitants being fearful of employing me for any longer term, until they should find, by experience, wheth- er I would conduct a school with regularity and proprie- ty. I began this school with fifteen scholars ; at the ex- piration of the month I had forty-five ; I was then engag- ed for two months, which took all the public money which had been raised for the purpose of schooling. My wages for these two months were raised ; and I found, to my no small comfort, that my conduct had given universal satis- faction. When the two months were expired, my school consisted of eighty-four members. A number of young men from various parts of the country had resorted to my school, in order to obtain the higher branches of educa- tion. When the time of the last engagement had expired, the people composing this district assembled, and raised mo- ney for the continuation of this school one year longer ; STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 193 fhis was a thing entirely unknoTm before in that town. The season for schooling, heretofoi'e in this town, was three months, in the winter, and the same length of time, in the summer. The summer school ^^'as taught by a woman, which school consisted of small children. I now found myself settled in business, and rising fast in the esteem of those with whom I was connected ; yet, under all these circumstances, I was by no means at ease. My mind was perpetually worried with fear, that some of the ten thcnisand of the unfortunate occurrences, which had heretofore befallen me, might again destroy my pres- ent pleasing prospects. My former sufferings had left such an impression of horror on my mind, that I couldnot close my eyes in sleep, but what these terrible scenes would be present to my view, and I compelled to act them over again. For years after this, nay, to the present moment, sir, I often start frorn sleep, reeking with sweat under the intense misery of my fancied horror. I will here give you a copy of a number of letters pas-- sing between me and my friends, and then pass on to more important scenes. HayioveTj January &th^ 1789. Dear Child, It is truly a matter of rejoicing to us, that the time of your severe trials, by a painful confinement, in a state of bondage, is now expired ; and that you have now return- ed, once more to taste those sweets of liberty, which are always dear, next to life itself. But much greater joy will it afford us to see the evidence of your heart's being effectu:>lly turned from those ways which had well nigh proved your ruin, in relation to both time and eternity ; well knowing that without this, your release from a state of confinement, will finally operate to no other purpose, but bringing you into a state of far more awful bondage than you have ever yet expeiienced. In relation to any ad- vice you desire from your parents, respecting your future objects and pursuits, we know not how to be any more particular than we have already expressed to you in our 194 MEMOIRS OF former letters. You must be sensible, and every feeling of nature itself will teach you, that it must needs be high- ly acceptable to us to have you return home, and live with us, only provided you bring with you a ciiild-like temper, and act out a spirit of genuine repentance, for your former' conduct and ways. To invite your return to us on any other terms, we cannot, with any real sincerity of heart. And if it shall be agreeable to your inclination to return to us on the conditions here mentioned, your object in life must be pursuing the labors of the field. I have neither capa- city nor inclination to introduce you, under present cir- cumstances, into the business of any other calling in life. And in reference to such an object, you must necessarily consult your own talents and inclination ; for any person, of your age and experience, can better judge for himself about the calling in life for which he is best furnished, than another can judge for him ; and your own conduct, in relation to such an object, must be governed by your own judgment. We earnestly pray for your best comfort, in relation to time and eternity ; and rest your affectionate parents, E. and A. BURROUGHS. Stephen Burroughs. Charlton, February 2oth, 1789. Honored and dear sir, Yours of the 6th of January was received about a week since. My acknowledgments for your favor I have paid by the earliest opportunity. In the letter I wrote you last fall, you will recollect an iniimdtion of my wishing for your advice upon my future pursuits in life. Not receiving any answer to that letter, I engaged in the school for a year, and cannot now leave it ; my promise being given to keep it that term of time. In this undertaking, I consulted my uncle Ebenezer DAvis, who was full in the opinion, that I ought to enter into the business, which then offered, on account of the uncertainty of having another opportunity of equal advan- tage. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 195 Your welfare and happiness lie near my heart, and should be exceeding glad to make you a visit, but at present such an object is out of my power. I remain in the bands of filial affection, your dutiful son, STEPHEN BURROUGHS. Rev. E. Burroughs. Boston^ December 22t/, 1788. Dear Sir, I received your letter, and gave it proper attention. I am glad you have, hitherto, met with so good success. You are sensible " you must creep ' again' before you can go." I wish it were in my power, from good grounds, to encourage you with respect to business this way ; but I have no disposition to deceive you. You will meet with better encouragemeot in the country than in town. I ad- vise you to go to your father, as soon as you are out of busi- ness. He is able to help you, and I pray he may be wil- ling. I rejoice to hear you conduct well ; and, by all that is endearing in this, and in the future world, I entreat you to maintain your good resolutions. In the utmost haste, I am your sincere friend and humble servant, CALEB BINGHAM. Mr. S. Burroughs. Matters continued in this train, without any material oc- currence. I lived in the house of one Williams, a very considerable man in that part of the town where I taught the school. He was a man of a feeling heart, was ready to assist the needy, and administer comfort to the wretched. I was treated in this house, by the good old people, more like a child than a stranger. A^l the tenderness and care of a parent toward a child ever marked their conduct to- wards me. Sometime in the summer, D. Bacon received a letter from my father, the contents of which was to our satisfaction. 1 had settled in my mind, to make my father a visit in the course of this summery therefore, I hired a horse of one Curtis, formerly a clergyman, for this journey, and made my visit in the month of July, after an absence of 196 lyiEMOIRS OF nearly fouv years. To revisit again the scenes of early yoiKh, " Childhood's lov'd group, behold in every scene, "^The tang-led wood-walk and the tufted green, gave a pleasing sensation, tender and soothing. Not long after I had been at my father's, my horse, playing in the pasture, fell and broke his leg. This was a calamity which I felt in a very sensible manner. I had grown so timid, that any object of misfortune was viewed in its most terri- ble form. I started at every danger, and grew pale with apprehension. I have, since, wondered at my feeling this misfortune so sensibly. In order to ease my mind, my father procured me another horse, and not only wrote him- self, but added the testimonial of one of his neighbor's, to his account. I returned to Charlton, and the September following, was married to the daughter of my untie, Ebenezer Davis.* This circumstance opened a new field of contemplation. To view myself in the relation of a husband and parent ; to feel the attachment which such a relation constituted ; you, sir, who stand in those relations yourself, can more easily judge of my feelings than [ can describe them. When I became the head of a family, perfectly calculated to render the domestic life happy ; and saw myself estab- lished in such business as would supply their necessi- ties, 1 was satisfied ;', the height of my ambition was grat- ified ; I enjoyed a flow of uninterrupted felicity, for days and for months. The enjoyment of my fire-side was now a source of pleasure which I, before, had never a dis- tant idea was the portion of mortals. It was indeed too great to be of a lasting duration. I received the warm con- i^ratulations of my friends on my prosperity. Every event took place to please. All things swam gently down the tide of time, and lulled my feelings to repose in the lap of security. * This is a very respectable g-entleman, a man of larg-e property, and for many years represented the town in tlie leg-isluture of Mas- sachusetts. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 197 I have made a transition in my narrative, over about a year of the time after my marriage, Avithout entering into particulars ; having drawn out the narration to such a len.glh, ah-eady, as to fatigue my own patience ; and I be- lieve, sir, that were it not for your tenderness to my feel- ings, you would long ere this time have told me, " Bur- roughs, your stoiy being both lengthy and gloomy, it is time to desist." Gloom is the chief I have to entertain you with in the after relation ; therefore, the most distant hint, that the story is too melancholy to give entertain- ment, I wiffBiscontinue. 1 will here give you a few extracts from those letters of congratulation which I received in these days. Haiir^ver^ February Slsf, 1790. Dear Child, I have only the privilege to seize a few hasty moments, ^o inform^ you of our safe arrival, on the fifth day, from the time of our taking leave of you, and our friends at Ch.ii'l- ton. It is imix)ssible for the want of time, to be particu- lar in any matter — -would be glad to express our senti- ments upon. That we are greatly comforted with the prospect ot your being useful in life, w'ould be superflu- ous to say. You well know that nothing can be a source of greater comfort to us, that pertains to the life that now is. We remember the kindness of your customers to you with sensible emotions of gratitude ; and desire that our love may be presented to them, as opportunity may offer. Tell Mr. Williams that his kindness, ajid that of his family, has made a deep impression upon us. Inform deacon Bacon, that my cordial salutations to him accom- pany this letter, as also to Elder Green. I have it in view to write to the deacon, as soon as opportunity will permit. At present the want of time forces m.e to a close ; and wdth fervent prayers, that you and your companion may be taught of God, to walk as heirs of the grace of li'fe, aiid for the highest comfort of you both, in relation to time and eteniity : we remain your affectionate parents, E. and A. BURROUGHS. Stephen Burroughs. R 2 ]98 MEMOIRS OF Hanover, March 20th, 1790. Dear Child^ It is needless to remind you, that whilst we behol^ a prospect of your being useful in life, in your present call- ing, we partake of that satisfaction, in the prospect, which proved in its operation, like a most reviving and comfort- ing cordial. As soon as you come to know the heart of a parent, you will understand in a different point of view from what you can now, how the welfare of a child, is an object that is dear and precious, to such a degree, that in comparison to this, every other earthly treasure is of in- significant and trifling importance. Amidst your present objects and pursuits that relate to the concerns and com- fort of the present life ; it would vmspeakably add to our joy, to see the evidence that each of your hearts are re- conciled to the character of that God who is the giver of happiness and the object of lore to every soul, who is wade wise to salvation. Whilst you are looking into the nature of religion, we wonder not, that you are oftentimes tempted to scruple, whether there is any thing in religion, whilst you form an estimate of it by the lives of the gene- rality of its professors. Whilst you discern that iniquity in its various shapes abounds amongst thera, take heed that it does not proved a stone of stumbling and a rock of offence to you. If it should, it ib a certain evidence that you have had I'ecourse to a false rule, to form your esti- mate of religion by. If the things which you behold and hear, in the conduct and conversation of professors, op- crate in this manner, to worry and perplex your minds, and you are ready to enquire, " Is there any thing in re- ligion ? Can there any good thing come out of Nazareth ?'* I would only reply, in the words of Philip to Nathaniel, *' Come and see ;'* make the trial and then judge for your- selves. By making the trial, understand me to mean, that you look huo the spirit of that temper which the word holds up to view, and let your hearts be fully reconciled to such a spirit, and governed by such a temper, and I well know you will want no other evidence to convince you, that in this wisdom there is such a treasure, that all the ihinjis you can desire are not to be compared to it. That STEPHEN BURROUGHS. . 199 you may both enjoy the happiness of the social life, in the mutual €xercise of such a temper towards each otlier, is a prayer that is pregnant with the most genuine love that our hearts are capable of experiencing towards you. We remain your affectionate parents, E. and A. BURROUGHS. S. Burroughs. Boston^ jYoveriiber 20th^ 1789. Dear sir^ I thank you for another letter. I am happy to hear you are so well married. I am glad to hear you say you have thrown away ambition. I am glad, likewise, that you retain it in so great a degree ; for there are two sorts. You are ambitious of rising into fame upon the basis of virtue. I charge you, fling not away that ambition. You may not rise, however, in the eyes of the world; but you will rise in yourself. For what more exalted situation can any mortal wish to arrive at, than to be able to adopt the words ot the apostle, " I have maintained a conscience void of offenceboth towards God and towards man," or to that effect. This, you know, is what you and I must aim at, or we never can be happy ; and with this, we shall be happy, however the world may think of us. People here are not yet disposed to believe you are re- formed in reality. 1 will believe it ; and you must, for once, disappoint the world. I-feel greatly interested in your welfare. I seem to anticipate the joy of your parents at your reformation. It so happens that I am always in a hurry when I receive your letters, or I should be more particular. We have lost one of our children since I wrote you. I am afraid the bearer is gone, for I did not receive your let- ter in season. My compliments await your lady. I should be glad to see you both. The next time I go to Connecticut, I shall visit vou. I am, dear sir, your faithful friend and hum^ ble servant, CALEB BINGHAM.* Mr. S. Burroughs. * This letter, and a preceding one from the same, were publish- ed wittkcut the ^Titer's knowledge or consetit. The fact was this. 200 MEMOIRS OF Stratjield, February 2d, 1790. Sir, I have received yours, and thank you for the respect you express, which also gives me great satisfaction for your acknowledgment to me, that I have been instrumen- tal of giving you relief in time of distress, which is no more than a duty which rational beings are bound to do for each other, exclusive of the bonds of relation. I also rejoice to hear that your behavior is agreeable, and that you have gotten an agreeable companion, and that you are in prosperity. My business was such that I could not have an opportunity to wait on your father ; please to ex- cuse me to him, as I understand he is bound to your town before he returns. I wish to be remembered to your con- sort, your mother and your uncle Davis. These from 'yoiH^aftectionate cousin, STEPHEN SUMMERS. Mr. S. Burroughs. Thus you see, sir, that my portion of happiness was complete. All that was possible for man to enjoy, I now experienced ; I was raised to the utmost pinnacle of bliss. But I was only raised to be thrown from my exaltation, to the deepest abyss of wretchedness and misery. The writer received a letter from Mr. Burroughs, requesting his opinion relative to the publication of his memoirs ; intending, as he afterwards said, if that opinion should be favorable, to ask leave to publish these two letters, and four or five others. The answer was decidedly against publishmg the memoirs, on the ground that the histories of rogues were frequently narrated in such an unguard- ed maimer as to defeat any good that might be expected from their publication, the object bemg to shew, with how di'eadful a certain- ty vice and folly meet their reward. Buttlie letter which contain- ed this advice, as was the case with some others, directed to the same distinguished character, was stopped on the road, broken open and never ai'rived till the book was thus far in print. The work, how- ever, on appearance, proved much less exceptionable than was an- ticipated ; and it is presumed, if the reader will bear in mind that the writer is the hero of his own story, it will be found calculated to serve as a beacon for youth to avoid the like coiu'se, least they meet a like ftite — a vagrant and ignominious existence, constantly goaded by remorse and the dread of future punishment STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 201 It appears to me that fortune, to shew the extent of her power, had curiously interwoven a train of circumstances, of all others the most delicate ; and of all others, the most Calculated to make me vulnerable by her shafts. From the Castle, from a state of confinement as a slave ; from a state where I had suffered a course of unexampled cruelty ; to fall among a people, of all others, the most agreeable, humane and benevolent ; to find among them a readiness to give credit to all my virtues, notwithstand- ing the clamor against me ; to make use of my abilities, where they found them useful ; and to treat me as a mem- ber of the general family of mankind, was a situation, which rendered me most feelingly happy. Here I found a society which I could enjoy upon terms of that easy ac- cess, which renders It so grateful. Here was a theatre upon which I had exhibited in such a manner, as to raise the desponding hopes of my friends, to a state of the most sanguine expectation, relating to the part which I should perform as a member of society. Here I had contracted such a tenderness for a fond wife and our helpless offspring, as to lose the desire for my own prosperity, in my anxiety for them. My own person- al benefit Mas now but a secondary consideration, and only viewed of consequence, as it contributed to render them happy. Here I had a family ; here were friends of near con- nexion ; and here was a society, among vrhom I enjoyed the social pleasures, in their highest perfection ; conse- quently, I felt the most ardent desire to render myself agreeable, and endearing to all these. At the moment, when I had obtained the highest pitch of my ambition, when 1 became completely happy in the enjoyment of all my heait's desire ; to be hurled from tins summit of happiness, and buried under the weight of one general wide extended ruin ; to see myself in a moment, stripped of every enjoyment my heart held dear, and re- duced back into that state of confinement ffrom which I had so lately been liberated, was a situation in which all the powers of mind and the strength of nature, operated and combined to render me completely miserable. Alas I 202 MEMOIRS OF thou unhappy companion of my life, how changed our prospects! but a little time since, when all nature smiled on our endeavors, to promote the welfare of our mutual concern, a rising family ; even our hearts were exhilirat- ed, our minds were soothed, and our souls filled with de- light, v/ith the playful smiles and opening mind of a ten- der infant! but alas! those scenes are fled — fled "with the years beyond the flood ;" fled alas ! beyond the reach of hope ! No more shall my heart be made glad by the fond embrace. No more shall the sun rise to cheer my fond hopes, my rising expectations. But midnight and death shall howl their horrid dirges around m.y bed ! mise- ry and melancholy shall spread their sable veil over every part of my life, and after my exit from this stage of trouble, furies shall shriek a doleful requiem to my departure. I find, sir, that 1 am wild and unconnected in my rela- tion. The gloomy scene crowded upon me before I was ready to give it a place ; and I, involuntarily, find my pen continually delineating those melancholy circumstances. I beg pardon for my irregularity, and will recall my wan- derings. I am, sir, he. CHAP. XXII. ** A part ho\v small of the terraqueous globe ** Is tenanted by man ! the rest a waste, ** Rocks, deserts, frozen seas, and burning sands : " Wild haunts of monsters, poisonous stings, and death : " Such is earth's melancholy map ! But far ** More sad ! 'I'his earth is a true map of man : ■*' So bounded are its haughty lord's delights ** To w oe's V. ide empire ; where deep troxibles toss ; " Loud sorrows liowl, envenom'd passions bite ; *' Kavenous calamities our vitals seize, *' And threatcniuj^ fate wide opens to devour." JLn prosecuting the design of this letter, I must confess that 1 am at a loss how to describe tliose events, of which I >vish to give you a just idea. I know I shall fall infinite- ly short of my own v-ishes. The scene Wvis so crowded STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 203 with incidents, that it will be impossible to relate them in Buch a manner as to keep them clear and distinct, so as to render them entirely intelligible. Under this view, I have thought it the better way, to give you extracts of letters, relating to these events, interspersingjthem with some ex- planatory remarks, and filling up any deficiency by an ad- ditional relation. To understand the after relation in as clear a manner as the nature of the thing will admit, it will be necessary to give you the characters of some persons who were active in my misfortune, and to begin with the chief engine of this business, viz. Israel Waters. This man was a near neighbor to me during my living in my own family. When W^aters first commenced his career in life, he was ex- tremely poor, illiterate, ill favored, and of a sour, morose temper ; hence he remained, for a long time, unknowing and unknown. A number of fortunate circumstances hap- pening in the course of his business, he attained a hand- some property. When he found himself to be a man of property, he grew unaccountably presuming and haughty. He had, heretofore, remained among mankind without at- tention or notice ; but, now manifested an ardent ambition to start into consequence in the world. His first effort was to rise in the military line. He stood for the command of the company of which he was a mem- ber, not sparing of his purse on the occasion ; but was de- feated in his pursuit. He then stood for the lieutenancy, and after a length of time, obtained his object. The captainship becoming vacant a number of times, he endeavored, by the dint of electioneering, to obtain that office ; his exertions were ineftectual, and he threw up his commission in a pet, and joined a company of horse. Towards this company he truly acted a benevolent part, had his motives been a regard to the real prosperity of the company ; but his after conduct made it evident, that elec- tioneering was his object, in assisting various members of the company with those articles which their finances did not allow them to procure, without inconveniency. Not- withstanding every exertion which he made, tlie choice of 204 MEMOIRS OF the company fell upon a deserving man, and of course, he occupied the second place in this company. Whilst he held the office of lieutenant in the company of light horse, the rebellion broke out which, you will re- collect, was termed Shay*s rebellion. This produced ani- mosity among neighbors, and almost every man became a partizan. The militia were called upon, and Waters, with the rest of his company, went into service, against the in- surgents. Here he had an opportunity of hearing much said in favor of government, and likewise against those who should oppose her measures. Having been dis^ippointed in all his efforts to become a man of that consequence in society to which hi'5 restless ambition had led him, he expected that he had now discov- ered the only sure road to preferment, viz. by making him- self so sti'ong a stickler for government, that he would be taken notice of, and promoted. Under this view of matters, not having ability to distinguish between a real and pre- tended assistc'ince to the laws of the country, he became the pimp, rather than the friend of government. My rising so suddenly and rapidly into esteem, had given this man great umbrage. " What," said he, " shall this mushroom of a night be rewarded and caressed by man- kind, whilst I have been laboring years in the pursuit, and spent great part of my time and interest in this business, and yet be neglected ?'* The comparison was too mortify- ing ; and of course, he sought to remove that object from sight which gave him so much pain to view. He was but too successful in his undertaking. He had made his calculation upon answering two pur- poses in rendering me obnoxious to the laws, viz. gi-atify- ing his own private spleen, and gaining the commendations of men in office, who, he expected, would be gratified at my downfal ; hence, after my calamity, he made his boasts, that he esteemed the honor he had done himself in that business so highly, that he would not part with it for one hundred pounds. Another character in this business, was one Elice Put- ney, an old girl, who had not borne the character of a Lu- crctia ; and of consequence, finding herself at a low ebb, STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 205^ calculated to make some bold efforts to do away a jealousy there was remaining upon the minds of many, that she was by no means exposed to suffer on account of her vir- tue. No way appeared so eligible to this antiquated he- roine, as to raise a report, of her having withstood some violent attacks upon the casiie of her honesty. This bein^^ the case, you will hear in the after relation, how she suc- ceeded in her undertaking. The following character, who maintains a place most in dignity in this narrative, is Daniel Bacon. This man is as punctual in telling his great religious exercises as any man you will generally meet with. Take his own acvxjunt for your evidence, and you will believe bim to be the best man living ; but when you examine him critically, by his works, you will find it necessary to place much ^o the ac- count of human frailties, if you continue to believe in his goodness. He is a man possessing a very tenacious m,e- mory, relating to matters which make in his own favor, and the contrary, he has a happy faculty in forgetting. His wife comes fonvard, in the next place, and clearly tlemonstrates that she is bone of his bone, and flesh of his flesh. They are both endowed with small mental abili- ties, timid and fearful of meeting with danger on eveiy occasion. About six months previous tx)my marriage, two daugh- ters of D. Bacon attended my school. As I taught a school in the evening, separate from the common school, many scholars who attended in the day, likewise attendeci in the evening. After I had dismissed the school lor the day, I generally made a practice of tarrying at the school-house, until the time for opening that in the even- ing, in order to make some necessaiy airangements. More or less of the scholars, who lived some distance from the school, likewise tarried. At a certain time, the elderofD. Bacon's daughters remained with me in the school-house, during tl>e intermission betv.een the Hv. o schools, A number of circumstances happening to throw a certain enjoyment full in my view, the tempUxtion was too powerful. I fell before it. The fatal moment wa-. past. It could not be recalled, Aft^r I had reiire4 from s *~ 06 MEMOIRS OF school, the object had its full operation upon my mind. This v/as a moment of calmness. This was a moment in %vhich the examination of my conduct gave me the keen- est pain. 1 considered that my situation had been the means of gaining easy access to her virtue. That she had been taught to put the most implicit confidence in my instruc- titn. That the example, in me, would have a fatal influ- ence on her principles of virtue. These considerations gave me no small degree of uneasiness. I lamented my untimely folly, but too late, I lamented it. I took the ear- liest opportunity of repairing the injury, so far as was now in my power. Not long after this, the same opportunity offering again at tlic school-house, I entered into conversation with the girl on the subject. I endeavored to give her a statement of my own views on tiie subject. I expostulated with her in the warmest terms upon the impropriety of ever swerving from the path of virtue. I intimated to her, that from the principles of integrity, as vfeW as tenderness to her own welfare, I sliould keep this business a secret from every person living. It is true, I gave her no charge to keep this unhappy business buried in her own breast. I presumed, that the laws of delicacy and self-preserva- tion would have been sufficient for such a purpose, but in this I was deceived. She divulged the secret among some of her compan- ions. By little and little, it gained ground, until it came lo the knowledge of Israel Waters. He embraced the cpportunity to make such arrangements with the parents oi iliese girls as to carry his diabolical plan into execution. 'Jle pretended great concern for the welfare of the girl's character, and said he wished to save her free from impu- tation of blame. Matters being under this situation, one morning about the (lawn of day, I was awaked and made prisoner by a sheriff, Waters and a number of others. I was immedi- ately cnrried to the house of Waters, and kept closely coniined, v.vaW the evening succeeding, when there arriv- ed two lawv; V?;, one to act as justice of the peace, and the STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 20? other to advocate the cause in behalf of the state. A cii-- ciimstance somewhat curious, that these g«ntlemen should come twenty miles to make inquiry into a matter, v.hen there were four justices living within the distance of four miles, V, ho were equally competent to make the inquiry. I was brought before the justice and heard the com- plaint read, which contained allegations against me, a- Tiiounting to a rape. To this, you may depend^ I plead not guilty. When the girl was examined, she would not stand the test, but declared that I only had made the attempt to ravish her without success. To my astonishment, I found two others were called upon to give evidence, viz. Elice Put- ney, and a younger sister of the first mentioned girl. They all testified to the same import, that I had laid violent hands upon them, in various places, and exerted all my abilities to proceed with them to acts of iniquity ; but they had made such noble resi^'.-iuce, as to overcome my great- est exertions, and fairly out matched me in strengtii. After they had finished their evidence upon these mat- ters of oifencc; the justice made out my mittimus to j.il, for trial at the next supreme court to be holden six months afterwards, for an assault with an intent to ravish. Not- withstanding, the court of quarter sessions had concur- rent jurisdiction with the supreme court, in causes of this kind, and sat, if I mistake not, four months sobner. The girls, D. Bacon and wife, were bound over to give testi- mony at the sitting of the court, £cc. To undertake a description of my feelings under this situation, would be as fruitless as to attempt to give a blind man an idea of colours. I hate to dwell upon the scene, long enough to give you the general occurrences which took place. It makes my head run round in a maze, to dwell long enough upon these matters, to bring them ^S^^ ^^i^t o view, so that I may state them in order. I re- joice^lpit I may turn you 'to the perusal of some letters which will lead you into the knowledge of facts without my writing them over again. Mr DEARy After tJie scene of last night, you will not wonder at my ieeiing all the horrors of nr^y situation. On the '^^yV not ^ 8 MEMOIRS OP a word said. All hushed with that dismal silence whicii betokens the feelings even of those whose occupation is cruelty. About midnight we arrived at the goal, and after some difficulty, the Cerberus of this place of human woe v/as aroused, and procuring a number of his massy keys, the ponderous dcrors growled on their hinges, to open to my view and anticipation the regionsof horror and despair. The doors were closed, and all the bolts responded to the iron force of their massy keys ; the scene around ine is beyond description ; thiough the remainder of the- night, my mind was overborne by the weight of what had taken phccjin such a rapid succession for twenty-four hours be- fore : nature gave way, and I sunk into forgetfulness. I awoke with the light, but not to stupidity. 'Ihe mind be- came vigorous Jind clear, by a moments relaxation, all ihe avenues of sensibility were open ; the positive and re- lative horrors of my situation came rolling upon me like a torrent of destruction, threatening instant desolation. All my flatterinii- prospects in life, in a moment blasted. A wife whom I adore, an infant and only child, lost in a mo- ment, by the merciful hand of justice 1 O ! horrid profa- nuiion 1 To call that by the name of justice which nature recoils at with disgust. Is this the lot of man ? To have his soul filled with complete happiness ; to be possessed with every object which could gratify his remotest wish ; in order to be thrown from the enjoyment of all, to render his misery absolute ! I know your feelings upon these try- ing events. I know the various manoeuvres which will be made use of, in order to pre|K)ssess your mind against my conduct, and of course in favor of the proceedings of those persons who have combined together for my de- struction. In order to counteract their designs, I could have recourse to arguments, entreaties and persuasions ; but all these I despise. If I possess your conficjeiice to such a degree as that you will be able to resist thie^lkrious efforts made use of against me, I then possess every thing in you that I wish for, and short of that there is nothing for which I am ambitious. I wish to see you even in this dreary place of confinement. I know you must be shock- ed at the prospect which you will find presented to your STEPHEN BURROUGHS. view, should you come to this " place of torment 1" but notwithstanding, I cannot say but what I wish to see you, even here ; that is all the remaining comfort which now even glimmers before my eyes, and how long that spark of consolation may remain, I know not. If I should be deprived of it before to-morrow's dawn, not more strange should I esteem that than thousands of occurrences through which I have passed since I began my melancholy career in life. What a host of flattering friends and humble ser- vants had I tv/o days since, but now where are they ? Not one who dares to shew his head. The town cf C n will no more contend in what part of it I shall reside. So well do I know the baseness of the human heart, that for one shilling, I would part with all my chance of friends in this wide world, (yourself excepted.) And yet, whose prospects of unalterable friends were stronger than mine ? Am I altered ? Am I changed ? Am not I the same in name and nature, in feeling and in semiment ? But my prospects are blasted, and my friends are vanished. Why do I write thus lengthy ? Because it looses me from my situation for a moment. Vv'rite to me. Say any thing to dispel the gloom for a mon^ent, even if it be matters not founded in fact. I remain with, tenderness and atrection, STEPHEN BURROUGHS. Air Dear, I was mistaken in not valuing the friendship of those who made professions in time of prosperity. 1 find to mv surprise, there are some real friends, and even those who dare profess it to the world: Sfrange ! those who dare assert the cause of innocence, notwithstanding the power of oppressors ! Captain I — r was here this day, and offered to become sponser for the paym.ent of 2 501. on condition of niy being liberated till court. Cannot our friends, or relr.- tions, I might more justly say, be persu?.ded to give hA\ for the other 2501. ? I shall think ifvery surprising if strangers will shew more kindness tlian the nearest relatives. T find that the opinion of the world is much more favorable thr^n I expected. Many independent minds view this mailer as they ought, according to the evidence which has been offered. For a girl to pretend that violence had be: 21© IVIEMOIRS OF fercd her six months before she makes the matter kno'sfli, cTcii to her nearest intimates, and seek the company of the person who had offered the violence, perpetually and con- tinually, until just before the discovery is to take place, is to me a line of conduct hardly credible, and to the candid ■world appears ludicrous to the last degree. Yet, notwith- standing the ridiculous foundation upon which this matter rests, my enemies exult in the prospect of bringing ruin upon my head, by supporting the charge of violence against the virtuous, the modest and amiable L y B n ; who, from her own story, (did we not in charity disbelieve her) would make herself one of the most barefaced w — s, who disgrace her sex, and bring a blush upon Uie cheek of every modest woman. Yet, I know the world at large can believe an infamous report, (however incredible in it« self,) so much readier than a good one, that my appre- hensions have been much alarmed, by the great exertions which are now making, lest such an invincible prejudice should be raised against me, as greatly to mar the equity t'fihe trial. I know upon that one circumstance, rests the wlaole expectation of my enemies ; should they not succeed in that, they must fall with the rapidity of Lucifer ; therefore, no puins will be wanting on their part, to effect i-iieir purpose in such a w^ay ; if I obtain my liberation by bail, I think they must be disappointed in their warm ex- pectations. Strange that man should be so blind to his own happiness, and to the part he ought toi act, as to use liis exertions for the misery of his fellow. The ills of life by the common course of nature, are many, and hard to be bonie ; and our situation requires all the sympathy, com- riii^scmtion, and compassion of each other, to render it tol- erable ; btit, when to the common ills of life, the artificial cruelty of revengeful mortals is added, then is the cup of iiUcrncss completely filled ; then shall we find racks and jbbcts, pillories rnd whipping posts. The inventors of :( J veiy engines of cruelty will boast of their superior . ./, declaiing themselves with great ostentation, to be :,c happy few, who have ever known the feelings of cora- \ <'s'-^n towards each other, exulting at the extent of their ;;o superior to \h?X of ihe Turks, Rv.ssians and STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 2il barbarians. Mistaken wretches ! And because they can find some more cruel than themselves, they deem this matter a sufficient evidence of their own great goodness ; but should they for a moment make the comparison be- tween their own conduct and the real standard of benevo- lence, viz. the conduct of Deity, how would they be abash- ed and shrink with astonishment at their own baseness. Where do we find prisons and tortures prepared by him, for offending mortals ? Does he take advr.ntage of every lapse which he sees in us to v/reak his vengeance ? Should he do this, how few would have the leisure to pursue his neighbor's destruction ? Should matters turn out in such ^n unfortunate manner as to render it difficult to obtain liberation on bail, immediately, I v>'ish you to come to AV- r soon, if you find it can be affected without diffi- culty ; otherwise, you will do well to defer your journey for the present. I remain, kc. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. Dear Sir, Yours of the 20th ult. came safe to hand. I read it witk pleasure, because any thing coming from you gives me pleasure; but more particularly, that which speaks' your mind, and partakes of the nature of sentiment. Vou men- tion a desire to see me ; I do not think I can come to W' r until court ; the reasons are but too well knov> ii to you already, and these reasons appear to me conclusive ;. hovrever, I wish to act with prudence and deliberation on the matter, and shall, therefore, await your opinion on the subject. The prospect of bail is entirely out of the ques- tion, owing to the influence of ; how- ever terrible such a condition, yet you must bear it ; and I wish you may do it with composure, and not think of rid- ding yourself of confinement by any illegalmeasures. The fatal consequences, should you succeed, will be but too sensibly felt my me. The country you must leaA'e. I must then remain forsaken, incumbered with a helpless infant, and what is more, uncertain v/hat to hope for, or what hot to fear. Almost any situation, to me, would be preferable to that. I ti'emble at the thought, that it is even possible fe-r such an event to take place. Is your love towards me 212 MEMOIRS OF sincere ? And can you bear to leave your country, to leave me and your babe, without a friend upou whom we shall have the confidence to rest for protection and support ? I remain, in haste, your loving wife, SALLY BURROUGHS. Mr Dear^ Yours of the 5th instant arrived yesterday ; my feelings were variously affected by its contents. Your intimation, of what comes from me gives you pleasure, was truly an intimation of the most pleasing kuid to me ; but, what was the difference of my feelings, when you tell me you shall not come to W r until court. Do you imagine I can wear away five gloomy months without one drop of comfort, mixed in this cup of bitterness ? Can this conduct be consistent with the duty you owe to me ? Can it be con- sistent with that love which you profess, to forsake me in this time of difficulty ? This is the time for trial, this is the time for the serious proof of the affections of our friends. I have seen your father twice since I saw you. I talked with him relating to his intentions concerning you, and whether he was willing you should come to \V r on a visit ; he did not give me a decided answer, either in the negative or affirmative. He appears to be apprehensive, that so soon as my lib- eration tukes place, I shall, with indignation, quit the coun- try, and entire'y leave you, or else carry you to regions un- known to him. Did he know the feelings of my heart on that suliject, his ideas would undergo a revolution, and he would reason with more candor. In relation to my affection towards you, I think that you must be perfectly sensible, that it is stronger than the powers of misfortune. You ask me if I can leave you and flee my country ? Would you ask the tender mother if she . will leave her helpless infant ? or the turtle dove, whether she will leave her male ? It is for you, my Sally, that I live ; it is for you that I endure the ills of life. Should I leave you, what then would become of my Sally, the idol of my soul, the delight of my eyes ? My soul shudders at the thought, and recoijs with horror at the reflection ! May STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 213 Liic coki hand of death sooner close these eyes, so accus- tomed to sorrow, than such events should happen. You can hardly conceive of my feelings in this situation of wretchedness ; they are like the boisterous ocean in time of tempest; confusion and distress, anguish and despair, perpetaally assail me ; I rave Avith madness, and grow sul- len with cUsappointment. My sleeping moments often flatter me you are presernt. I awake to disappointment, and curse my dreams, for opening all my wounds afresh, and causing the blood of aflliction to flow in streams anew. The clouds of darkness which now hang over us are thick and gloomy, but must not they be soon driven away ? Will not that God, who knows the secrets of the heart, appear for injured innocence ? By the united advice of my friends^, I have engaged Mr. S g, of .\ , rather than M k. Sunday morning — I have just opened my eyes from a pleasing dream. Methought I was at liberty with you, and enjoying all the sweets of social life ; the rapture of this scene overpowered my sleep, and I awoke ! but to what did I awake ! to behold myself alone, environed by the gloomy walls of a jail, composed of huge rocks and massy bars of iron, without the hope of ever seeing you until court : I say wrong, I have hopes of seeing you soon, and must not be disappointed. You desire me to make myself contented. You may as well desire the drowning man not to seize on every substance v/ithin his grasp. Dear Sir, Your favor of the 1 1th I received. It was with grati- tude I received it. You intimate a dissatisfaction at my declining a visit to you. But think not, sir, that it is for the want of afl'ection that I abstain from coming to see you. The disagreeable necessity I may hereafter be under, of subsisting upon the help of my friends, makes me fearful of taking measures which will offend them. "Notwith- standing, since you so earnestly desire it, I shall try every proper measure to see you. 1 have heard that you have made attempts to break jail. I cannot answer for the truth of these reports. I think it the better wajr to He quiet until couit, however disagreea- ^U MEMOIRS OF ble the idea may appear, and not run any risk by trying to extricate yourself from confinement by unlawful measures. Should you succeed, you would labor under very great embarrassments, on account of leaving the country ; if you have any regard for an afflicted wife, or an infant child, onec the delight of your soul. It is impossible to conceive the anxiety that perpetual- ly fills my mind, relating to these unhappy events. Some- times I am ready to give myself over for lost, thrown out into a troublesome world, to endure alone and imsupport- ed, the hardships and distresses incident to such a situa- tion. But alas I how can I harbor such a thought ? You certainly cannot v.ish to deceive me. You must be en- tirely sensible of my affection towards you. I hear so many reports and observations that at times, my fears almost overcome me May God graciously support me under those trials which I am now called to pass through. I remain, with the warmest affection, your loving, though afflicted and sorrowful wife, SALLY BURROUGHS. December 28M. Mr Dear^ In answer to yours ©f the 2 1st, I have to communicate, that a degree of satisfaction was received in that letter, which is entirely inexpressible. There is a something in receiving testimonies of ctttachment and esteem, when we are in adversity, which is exquisitely grateful ; on the oth- er hand, to experience injury and abuse, at such times, is far more insupportable than when we are in common pros- perity. Respecting those reports of my attempting to break jail, they ai'e as unfounded as many others which have been in circulation. I have not the most distant idea, under pres- ent circumstances, of making any such attempt. You mention your anxiety, on account of the reports and observations which you continually hear made. To fur- nish you with what evidence the nature of the thing will admit, I shall refer you to that line of conduct which you ha^se been acquainted with in me, from the knowledge you ever had of nay person and principle. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 315 You entertain a fear of my abandoning you after my lib- eration. This appears to me strange. When I have once found a friend, I do not easily let him go, even in a state of the greatest prosperity. My soul was formed for friendship, and when I find a friend, who can endure the storm of adversity, I do not think there is, in the nature of things, an equivalent to be received in exchange, for such a friend. When you consider, that in addition to all these considerations, I stand in the relation of a husband to you, and of a parent to our infant ; can there remain the most distant jealousy in your mind, that I shall forfeit all claim to every principle of integrity under these obliga- tions I ! Surely, my dear, if you take all these circumstances which I have mentioned, into your serious consideration, it will be an effectual bar against the effect of the sugges- tions of those meddling characters who wish to destroy your peace of mind. That you may enjoy every blessing, which the kind hand of providence bestows on mortals, is the fervent pray- er of your affectionate husband, STEPHEN BURROUGHS. January 2d. Dear Sir, Although I am at liberty from actual confinement, yet I partake of the affliction which environs you on every side. I wish it was in my power to grant you some re- lief; and could you point out any way, in which such an *object can be effected, most gladly will I attend to it. It is now nearly two months since I saw you, and God only knows what I have endured since. It is not the want of friendship Avhich keeps me from seeing you. My thoughts, by night and by day, are with you, and drink deep of the cup pf affliction, which is set before us. I dread to * * * I am determined to make you a visit as soon as convenien- cy will admit, unless you think the reasons against it are too great to be dispensed with. The conflict between * * *********** ha^ been groatly trying, but it is 216 MEMOIRS OF Tjow decided. I am determined, in future, to regulate my conduct, according to the wishes of my unhappy part- ner, let the feelings of others be as they may. I shall wait with anxious expectations for your answer to this letter, specifying your wish with respect to my coming to Worcester. And now, dear sir, accept the advice of one who, in the warmth of duty and affection, feels ardently desirous for your welfare and prosperity. The time of your affliction cannot endure always. There must be an end to these trials. Therefore, sir, 1 wish you would compose yourself under your situation, and remain as contented under it, as the nature of the thing will admit. Liook forward to happier scenes, that await us hereafter, in spite of all the malice of the demons of discord. It can- not render your situation any more tolerable, to suffer yourself to be thus overborne by the weight of your mis- fortunes. Let us bear with fortitude the stroke of mis- fortune. Let us shew to the world, that we can rise above the malicious strokes of all our enemies. While I give this advice, I hardly know how to follow it myself. My sorrows make me almost frantic with grief; but I am in hoj^es, that by long exertions, I shall be able to render them more tolerable. I remain, with constant^ fidelity, your loving wife, SALLY BURROUGHS. \2th January. Mr DEARy Yours of the 3d inst. I gratefully acknowledge ; in it I traced the marks of the truest affection. How grateful to my heart these tokens of esteem, in a time of adversity. There is a luxuriancy of enjoyment in sympathetic friend- ship, when the doleful knell of woe tolls in my ears, which beggars all description. In your letter, you advise me not to feel my misfortune. Do you know that we were both made to feel ? And what nature has done, we shall find hard to undo. Your advice was founded, I know, upon the piinciples of true benevolence, but think you mistake, in some measure, the operation of the human heart. The most certain manner of lessening our agonies is, to give STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 217 fray before their pressure, and confess we feel their force. Fortitude is but a dream ; for where lies the merit of being insensible to the stroke of adversity, or in dis- sembling our sensibility ? If we are insensible, that is en- tirely owing to a happy constitution, formed by the hand of nature. This blessing is only obtained as the gift of hea- ven, in our formation. No ait or assiduity ot" ours can ever acquire it. If we dissemble our feelings, we only en- deavor, by artifice, to persuade others that we enjoy privi- leges which, in fact, we do not enjoy ; and while ^f e endea- vor to appear happy, we feel ail the pangs of internal mis- eiy, and all the self reproach of endeavoring to deceive. Nothing is more certain, than that tears 'Uid groans grov.' out of pain ; and when misfortunes oppress, it is our duty and interest to take refuge under such coverts from the storm, as we can obtain. To fly for support to friendship. To fly for support to waiiings and lamentation, or to any thing which will alleviate our distress. It is said by philosophers, that our passions are the source of all our miseries ; this hus been a subject of abun- dant declamation. I ov/n that they are the source of all our misfortunes ; but they are, at the same time, the source of allour4)leasures: therefore, the study of our lives oughf to be, not to dissemble an absence of passion ; but to repel those which leiid to vice, by those which direct to virtue. Your visit vv^as a most grateful circumstance : tlicre is a pleasure hi seeing you, «ven here, though intermingled with grief, v*hich is a great allcviuiion to my state of dis- tress. Next to seeing you, is the pleasure of receiving your letters. I v/ish you to favor me with this latter agree- able circumstance as often as conveniency will permit. T remain, with the warmest sentiments of affection, your loving husband, ^ STEPHEx^f BURROUGHS. 5th Februanj. Dear Sis, Yours of the 12th of last month was handed me this morning. Since I was at Worcester, I have written to Daddy Burroughs. I hereby send you inclosed a copy of my letter. T :i8 MEMOIRS OF You may think, that my anxiety for your welfare, led me to take such measures, in the course of my advice, as Mould not answer the purpose which I had designed. What I expressed, Avas the overflowings of my heart. You, un- doubtedly, will make such use of it ss your superior judg- ment will point out. I have the most ardent desire for your prosperity. I suggest such ideas for its accomplish- ment, as my weak capacity will produce. Perhaps I view matters too much on the dark side. But, when I take a view of what has happened to you since you came upon the stage of action ; of the invincible prejudice mankind have rooted in their minds against you, and of the horrid effects of prejudice, I cannot but tremble at your approach- ing fate. We often riew with horror the effects of superstition upon the mind of man, in matters of religion. We have seen the most sensible of men led into such acts of barba- rity ?ind cruelty, as have disgraced the human character, by the shocking influence of superstiiion. I find that su- perstition is not alone confined to matters of religion. Its rage is equally great against a character unpopular from any other cause. A character, however loaded with infa- my, retaining the principles of virtue, is the greatest orna- ment to human nature, of any part of her existence. Many regard Airtue only as it is attended with applause. Those who are really virtuous, regard it for the internal pleasure which it confers. Such models I wish were held up to Aiew as worthy of imitation. Believe me to be, with sen- timents of the sincerest affection, your loving and dutiful wife, SALLY BURROUGHS. Honored and dear Sir, You will hardly entertain an idea of my attempting to lay open to your view, the bleeding anguish of my heart ; the distressed situation to which your son is reduced ; and the agony of mind, I endure on that account ; this is be- yond the power of language. It must require a very fer- tile mind, and an heart of great sensibility, even to figure, the most distant resemblance of this horrid situation. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 219 To give you some idea of these events. About 3 o'clock in the morning, the room rn which we slept was broken open by a man by the name of Israel Waters, attended by a sheriff, and a number of others, w*ho seized your son, and with a very imperious tone, bade him get up immediate- ly, and dress himself. He was then conveyed to the house of this Waters, who was a near neighbor, or rather lived in the neighborhood, where he -was kept through the next day, closely confined. It appeared iha; this Waters had, of his own self mov- ing will, intermeddled in a matter in wluch he was neither mediately nor immediately concerned ; had applied to a justice, living at the distance of twenty miles, to make in- quest into these matters of charge, although a number of justices lived in the vicinity ; had brought forward an at- torney to exert himself in the business, to your son's dis- advantage ; under these circumstances, you will not readi- ly suppose that Waters acted from a principle of the strictest uprightness in this prosecution, neither sought for an impartial investigation of the business. The charges were truly of a heinous nature; but the evidences brought forward in support of these charges TN'ere of a kind too ridiculous to mention. There may be iiomething in this business, which is seen by the gentle- men of the law ; but p.s for my own part, I cannot see the most distant color of evidence to support the charge. Ad- ded to this, your son's conduct, ever since my acquaintance •with him, bus not borne the most distant appearance of such a principle, either in his treatment of me, or his con- duct towards others. Under these circumstances, you cannot wonder at my feeling very different upon this sub- ject, from what many Y/oidd wish, who have raised a clamor against him. And now, honored and dear sir, let me ask you, v.'hat V* ouid be your sensations, should your bosom companion be taken from you in such a barbarous and cruel manner, thrown into prison, there to remain confined a long time, without some benevolent friend would appear and give boil ? I know the bail is excessive, but I can procure one half of the security from one of my neighbors ; therefore, 220 MEMOIRS OF let me beg of you, sir, to come down and sec your unhap- py son. ' Were you under similar circumstances with us, would 3'ou not wish, would you not expect, that your parent would r.fford you relief under such a situation ? I am perfectly sensible that you will run no risk, in performing this act of kindnesg. I do not feel a willinp^ness to receive a denial to this re- quest, 9.0 much depends upon your granting my petition. Had I the most distant jealousy, that any danger would' attend this act of kindness, I should not presume upon this petition ; but, as I feel the most unlimited confidence in every engagement being performed on our part, 1 can- not dismiss the subject without entreating you, by every Sventiment of justice, of humanity, and parental affection, rf compassion to the sufferings of your unhappy children, to listen to this request and grant my petition. I remain vour dutiful, though afilicted and soiTowful daughter, SALLY BURROUGHS. Rev. Eden Burroughs. I was confined, notwithstanding, until the sitting of court. When I was brought to the bar, I found three in- dictments against me, each charging me with an assault, with an intent to commit a rape. To the several charges I plead, 770^ guilty. At this time, there were on the bench, as judges, Dana^ Robert 'J'reat Paine, and Nathan Gushing ; James Sulli- van, attorney-general. A large concourse of people had assembled on this oc- casion ; and many evidences produced in behalf of the commonwealth to substantiate the charges which were brought against me. Alter the evidences were gone through, on both sides of the question, and my counsel had made t!ieir remarks on the business, the attorney-general arose, and address- ing himself to the audience, made some very severe re- marks upon the town of Charlton, for employing me \u the business of teaching a school ; and observations, yet more severe upon the clergyman of the town (Mr. Camp- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. '221 l}eli) for givlne^ his approbation to such a business; and raoreovGr, for even shewing compassion to nie under my present situation. Mr. Campbell, who was in court, arose, r.ncl begged leave of the court to offer one word, by way of reply, to wh:it the atiorney-general had observed, relating to him ; Judge Paine commanded him to sit down. Mr. Campbell replied, '' that he should by no means have made the reqr.est of addresshig the audience upon this oc- casion, liad not !iis name been drawn into question, in this very sing-uLir r.nd extraordinary manner, being thus pub- licly charged with blame, and that too, in the most wanton manner, when it was no way connected with the cause up- on trial ; under these circumstances, he thought himself v/arranted to ask and insist, upon the privilege of answer- ing the ungenerous aspersions which had been throv/n upon his character." Witliout answering his reasons, judges Dana and Paine ordered him, in the most peremp- tory manner, to sit down. He accordingly desisted, and sat down. To account for this very singular conduct, I will olTer you what evidence I ever received upon the subject. Mr. Campbell, who w^as a man of feeling, had often expressed his sentiments upon my imprisonment, Sec. as being too severe j this highly displeased Waters, and he threatened tliat Mr. Campbell should be disobliged at court, if lie did not change his sentiments. This, I suppose, Avas the pun- ishment contemplated. After the attorney-general had finished his address to the audience and jury, he sat down; and judge Cashing arose, and summed up the evidence to the jury in a very clear, candid and impartial manner. After he had sat down, judge Pcdne arose and addressed the jury in a speech of an hour's length. This was a subject, in which he appeared engaged to the last degree. In the course of his observations he took notice of every circumstance which made against me, either in the feelings of people or in point of law. After him, followed judge Dana, in a speech of equal length. After exhausting: himself, in persvading thejurvl T 2 222 MEMOIRS OF \vus guilty; after repeating the severe remarks against lliG town of Charlton and Mr. Campbell, he desisted. You uiil take nciice, that at this time, two juries were bitting upon two indictments. The next morning, one jury returned their verdict, guilty. The other, not guilty. Immediately upon this, I was again indicted for two ether crimes, founded upon the same facts, and supported by the same evidence, as was exhibited upon the former indictments, viz. " open, gross, lewd, and lascivious con- duct." To these charges, I plead not guilty, but after- \vard, by the advice of my counsel, entered a retrcucit^ and plead guilty. My counseUalledged, that one jury had already, upon the evidence, brought me in guilty of attempdng to rav- ish ; '* that it v/ould not be so extr>iordinary for them to find me guilty of the crime now laid to my charge, as it was for them, to return a verdict against me on the other indict- ment ; and if they should return an unfavorable verdict, the court, it was probable, would be more severe in their sentence, than what they would, should I throw myself en their mercy, by pleading guilty." I objected to this for the following reasons, viz. " I am accused," s:dd I, " of open lewdness. According to the account of the witnesses, every thing which took place, was in private ; therefore, how it can be said, that open lewdness is proved by this testimony, 1 cannot conceive. Open lewdness is every thing of that kind which the law censures and punishes ; therefore, it appears to me plain, that only a bare possibility remains for a jury to be so far led astray as to think the indictment supported.'* Not- Avithstanding these objections, ray counsel did not alter their opinion, therefore, I submitted and plead guilty. Immediately after this, the following petition was pre- sented to the bench. To tilt JiGnor able ^ the Justices cfthe Su/ire?ne Court of the State cf Massachusetts. May it please your horrors to accept the petition of an unh-ippy female, borne down under a weight of almost in- support ble grief. May a view of her distressed situation find the tender avenues of sensibility, and plead in her be- S^TEPHEN BURROUGHS. 232 half, for mercy and compassion to attend the terrifying* sentence of judgment. My husband, the tender companion of ray life, is no\T about to receive sentence of your honors ; and O ! for the sake of mercy, the brlt^htest attribute of the Deity ; for his sake, who has been the kindest and tenderest of husbands, both in prosperity and the more gloomy mo- ments of adversity ; for the sake of my peace of mind, al- ready torn with the most poignant grief; spare him, as much as may be consistent with the important trust re- posed in your honors. I beg for his restoration to his family, as soon as your honors may think it consistent ; and I will watch over him, with all the diligence of anxious solicitude, that he shall be a strict observer of the laws of the land, and a ben- efit to the community. May I not be permitted to suggest, that I cannot but view his conduct, with respect to the crimes of which he now stands convicted, in a very different light from what they appeared to the court ; being particularly acquaint- ed with circumstances which my relation to him prevents me from exhibiting in testimony. . I have found his conduct, ever since our acquaintance, marked with strict fidelity, and must think, from his per- severing conduct, for more than two years, that his pre- vailing desire is to be an unshaken supporter of the laws of the land. May the unening fountain of wisdom guide your hon- ors in the path of duty, and give you the consolation of be- ing good and faithful servants. May the gentle influence of mercy be your portion through life and through an end- less eternity. Thus prays your sorrowful and humble petitioner, SALLY BURROUGHS. Whether all these things served to molify the fcelingi of the Bench towards me, you will more readily judge by the sentences themselves, which were to this effect : " That 1 should receive one hundred and seventeen stripes on the naked back ; Jihould stand two hours in the pillory ; should sit one hour on the gallows, w'ith a rope around my •4 MEMOIRS OF r.eck; that I should remain confined in prison three months ; that I should procure bonds for good behavior for seven years, and pay the charges of prosecution." 1 was remanded to prison. I was afterwards led to the place of execution, and suffered tv/o thirds of the punish- ment which was comprised in the sentence. A day was appointed for the execution of the remainder. Previous to this time I left the jail, the country, and my enemies, to their own rciiections. #. * ,». * ^ * ^ * ^ * ^ * ^ *| In addition to my account, I will subjoin an extract of a letter from a gentleman of high respectability, and an old practitioner of law, who was present, through the wliole transaction, to a friend of his upon this occasion. An Extract of a Letter. We have undoubtedly many inducements to regular, honest and moral habits. I believe our liability to suspi- cion, when outrages against morality occur, or the deeds of darkness are developed without their author, and to the imputation of a thousand irregularities and vices of which ■we are entirely innocent, is not the smallest. The world, in general, for the same reason it calculates that the sun will rise to-morrow, because it rose to-day, imputes to him, who has been once in a fault, the commission of an hun- dred others. This truth was very strongly proved to nie, a few weeks ago, in the trial of S. B. at the supreme court, at Worces- ter. Three bills of indictment w'ere presented against f It was not prudent for the author, at the time of this publica- tion, to relate the manner in wiiicli he made his escape from the prison in Worcester. It is presumed that no injury can nov.- ai-ise from a disclosure of the secret. H It is a notorious fact, that many people in the vicinity were^f opinion that Bun'oughs was too sevei'ely punished; among' whom were some of tlie first characters m the county. BuiToug-hs was aware of this, and cherished secret hopes ofdeliverar.ee. One night, about 12 o'clock, he says his prison ^.oor was forced open, and he was x-equested to depart. He walked out, and passed between two ranks of people to a great distance ; the number appearing to him not less than a thousand. All this time there was a profound si- lence ; and he departed, ignonmt of the names of one of his deliv- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 225 liim for three several assaults, upon three young women, ■with a felonious, though baffled intent, each time to com- mit a rape. The charges were solemn. A cloud of wit- nesses was gathered round him, to bear testimony to the facts. The intended victims to his violence were there also. The prisoner, on arraignment at the bar, plead not guilty to the several indictments ; and put himself on the country for trial. S. the attorney-general managed the prosecution on the part of the commonwealth ; and S. S. and L. were advocates for the prisoner. It was not to be wondered at, if the trial of the man, who preached the sermon on the hay-mow to the Pelhamites, of whom, while a prisoner on the Castle, many curious and diverting anecdotes had been told, and were still freshly remembered, had collected an uncommon assemblage of both sexes, of women especially ; when we add the na- ture of tliC offence to the consideration. The witnesses for the commonwealth were first exam- ined. The three girls who had suffered the injury for which the prisoner was arraigned, were the most materi- al. They told their stories so pertly, that their declara- tions seemed to be rather memoieter than impromptu. I do not recollect all the particulars of their testimony ; but could not help reckoning up the strong inducements the poor giiis had, to patch up as good a story as they could, to vindicate their own characters ; enough of the circum- stances of the transactions, through accident, or their own carelessness, had already leaked out, to render their virtue questionable ; the world would make its own comments. The prisoner had been with them in private, and used them indelicately. If ihey had fallen unv.iiling victims to his lust, it was not their fault. But then, though their virtue remained ;is spotless as before, that indescribable something, thcit creature of our whims, that pov/er to charm the men of this woricl, was weakened ; and though they might still make as good members of the church, they would not prove such luscious brides. One of the girls testified, that the prisoner (one evening, after he had dismissed his school, and after the other scholars were gone, she being left alone with him in the 226 MEMOIRS OF school-house) attempted to persuade her to indelicate in- dulgences ; took hold of her ; behaved quite unseemly ; and made some exertions to induce her to comply ; not however, sufficient to require very strong efforts to prevent him, or cries to raise help, necessary ; that at ;inother time, afterwards, as she was returning home from school in the evening, in company with others, the prisoner over- took them, was riding, and, as she had some length of way to walk, persuaded her to get up behind him, offering to carry her home ; that having rode some distance with her, he stopped his horse, and took her from behind, and placed her before him ; and behaved quite indecently ; but that upon her resisting he desisted. Another of the girls siid, the prisoner one day finding her in the barn, had attempted the same thing much in the same manner. The third said, he had enticed her one evening a few rods from the house, and they coming to a fence in their Walk together, he took her up in his arms and lifted her over, and pulled her dovTn upon the ground, and attempt- ed familiurities similar to the others ; that on her making resistance, he desisted. She did not cry out ; and I have forgot whether she, or any of the others, gave any reason •why they did not. i'his is quite an abridgment of the testimony ; but I be- lieve it contdins all the material fncts and circumstances, and is accurate and particular enough to furnish data for an oj>inion upon the nature of the offences. The jury who tried the prisoner on the first indictment, gave their verdict, guilty. The verdict of the second jury was, 7iot guilty. The attorney-general then entered a 7iole jiro-^equi to the third indictment; and the prisoner was im- mediately arrai.^ned to answer to two new bills, charging him with open and gross lewdness and lasciviousness. To them he \A hat v»as the conduct of the truly great Julius at this tit^.e ? His attention was called to the examination of his conduct, m order to see whether the reproaches of his slave were founded on good grounds ; or whether they were the liiere ebullitions of wrath, |j|i'oceeding from disappoint- ment. On the examinauon, he found he had really injur- ed the slave. His reply was si^h, as wiil support his lUmc as long as the name ox Julius Cxsar is known. " You c-.i e right," said he, " in reproaching n.e fur not doing you justice J it is the only alternative you have for redress. I STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 231 grant you your freedom because I ought. I further grant you six hundred sestertii, because you had the fortitude to accuse me of injustice when I was guilty 1" Will not this conduct appear admirable to every candid mind in love with truth ? A very erroneous idea prevails ivith many, that men in eminent stations never ought to have their conduct called in question until the last ex- tremity. This I am sensible is a doctrine very pleasing to many who possess places of eminence, and maintain them, perhaps by the strength of it. But that man who can adopt the v.'ords of Brutus, in his answer to Cassius, " for I am wrapped so strong in honesty, that your words pass by me like idle winds vv'hich I regard not,'* v.ill nev- er feel himself exposed to losehi» influence upon society, or be injured by the closest examination into his conduct. CHAP. xxni. " Calamities are friends ; as glaring day " Of these unnumber'd lustres robs our sight ; " Prosperity puts out unjiumber'd thoughts " Of uTiport high and light divine to man." X. HAD determined to end my narrative for the present, with the foregoing letter, but, as my journey to the west- ward is prolonged another week, I will devote my leisure moments, during this week, to form a f^reweil address to the best of men and the dearest of friends. Perhaps you may feel somewhat interested in the con- tinuation and issue of my nan-ative. Your intimation of such an idea has had a powerful operation on my mind to induce me to gratify your request. You wonder I do not publish. Are not these scenes too disagreeable to be call- ed again into view, and more particularly into public view ? I wish I could forget that they had ever existed \ yet I cannot say that I am entirely without some consolation for these afflictions. They have learnt me a lesson which no other school can teach. They have learaed me to fcl the woes that others suffer. They have learned me tv MEMOIRS OF contribute of the small portion ^vhich I possess to allevi- ate the distresses of others ; and in this, sir, there is a sensation grateful beyond description. It is not without pain that I vi«w my prospect of leav- in;^ you and your agreeable family for a season, Vv ere it iiotforthe prospect of being sooner able to provide for my own family, I think no motive, honever lucrative, would induce me to leave my present agreeable situation ; but, sir, not witii standing I am surrounded with this agreeable society, and in it enjoy a great portion of happiness in the social line, yet 1 cannot feel entirely at ease, whilst my family is at a distance. We find that this situation appears desirable from the time of our first coniing upon the stage of active life, un- til we settle in a matrimonial state. Both sexes are look- ing forward to this as the end of their pursuits ; and when due attention is paid to the business, and such connexion formed as the laws of nature enjoin ; I believe, that man arrives to the greatest state of happiness tie is capable of feijoying. It has ever appeared to me, however, surpris- ing, that 60 little attention has been exerted to form such connexions between the two sexes as are congenial to na- ture. I am inclined to believe that no one need be left destitute of a partner, entirely calculated to render each other as happy as what things in this world will admit» should a regard be had to tempers, feelings, views, &c. previous to forming the matrimonial connexion. Various are the objects which occupy the attention of mankind in their pursuits after happiness ; none, perhaps, more tluui riches and power. When these are obtained, they give a momentary spring to enjoyment ; but soon the soul reverts back to its former state, and is left with- out any greate? sensations of happiness than what are en- joyed in a state of poverty and impotence ; therefore, but a very small difference remains between the poor and the rich, the humble and the powerful, as to actual enjoyment. Did we act as philosophers, we should turn our atten- tion from those objects which a length of experience has taught us are futile in our pursuit of happiness ; and place our thoughts upon such subjects as are calculated by na- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 233 tuve to grant us that enjoyment which we are ever seek- ing after. All this may be found in friendship ; and the greatest friendship is formed in the intimate connexion of matrimony. We find many times jars and feuds taking place in fa- milies. The husband and wife drag on a life through a course of bitter recriminations. From a view of these matters, many are led to despise and ridicule the married state. Were we to reprobate every condition in which some do not happily succeed, there is no calling or pur- suit in life, but what would fail under our animadversion. But one striking evidence, in favor of the happiness en- joyed, even in the most disagreeable matrimonial connex- ions, is, that a separation i* dreaded, and never had re- course to, only in cases of the last extremity j as Young pertinently expresses, " Like peevish man and wife, " United jar, and yet are iotb. to part.*' I believe, sir, you \si\\ think me very wandering in my observations, and preaching a doctrine to one who stands in little need of instruction upon this head ; seeing your it- mily connexions are such, that you need no arguments to enforce the necessity of enjoying yourself in your siiuation. I know, sir, your situation in tiiat connexion, is peculiarly agreeable ;* therefore, I considered that you would r,<;t only see the truth of my observations, but likewise feel it ; and it is a pleasure to preach to those wiio feel the truih of our doctiine. I have determined here to give you a relation of some events which took place in the course of my life, in point of time, some earlier than where I have arrived; but, which crAild not be introduced in the course of the narra- tive, .vithout interrupting the order ; therefore, I com hid- ed to omit it, until some convenient lime, in which I should not break in upon the relation of that chcdn of events wliich appeared to be more closely connected together. I giv--? you the relation of these incidents, in order to illustrate one of the reasons v,hy popular prejudice had arrived to siich a pitch against me. u 2 234 MEMOIRS OF I' was one day travelling in Massachusetts, and late at nit^ht, put up at a tavern where I was a stranger, as I ap- prehended. Soon after I arrived, being fatigued with the journey of the day, I retired to rest. This was previous to ray marriage. About ten at night, I was awaked by somebody at the bed side. Upon my opening my eyes, I recognized the person as an old acquaintance whom I had not seen for several years. I asked him where he lived, how he came there, and by what means he became pos- sessed with the knowledge of my being in the house ? At these questions he stared at me with a countenance of surprise. He asked me where my wife was ? I was equally surprised at this question. " How,'* said he, " do you wish to conceal the matter from me ? I am acquaLnted with the circumstances of your marrying ■ ■ — — , of your carrying her away, and to endeavor to hide it from UTiC, argues no very honest design in you.'' You will not \vondcr at my surprise being increased by 1:hesc observations. I told him his conversation, to me, was wholly unintelligible, that he talked to me of a wife, he. that I never was married, and what he meant by hfs observations about was an enigma to me, never before hearing the name of such a person; that I was an absolute stranger in the town, and supposed my- self equally unknov/n in the house, until I was avv^aked by him. This declaration brought on an explanation. He toid mc, that a man calling himself Stephen Burroughs, had been in that town, had become acquainted in a respecta- ble family, had, in opposition to all the efforts of the fami- ly, married a daughter and carried her away ; alledging, ihat he was going to Hanover to live with his father, and rb.at ihey had received no information from their daughter .-inte. 1 observed to this young man, that I thought it surpris- ing, that he should be deceived by the artifice made use of; ihat he certainly must have ItnovvTi whether the per- son Mils in fact whut he pretended to be. He answered, that being absent on.a journey during this time, he never saw il;e person ^ th^i had he even been at home, the de- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 2J5 ception might have passed undiscovered ; for no one doubted as to his being the person whose character he had assuir.ed ; and without accident had thrown him in my way, I might never have seen him. After this conversation, the young man left me, and soon agc.in my eyes were closed in sleep. I had not slept more than an hour and an half, or two hours, before I was again aroused from sleep by the same young man ; when I had awoke, I saw in the room an old man and his wife ; they approached the bed, the woman broke out into the bitterest lamentations, crying, " it is not he, h ru- ined, gone off with a vagabond, no one knows where.'* The father's countenance was a picture of distress, though his sorrows did not break forth with such ungovernable rage. Here was a scene truly affecting. The distress of the parents was exquisite ; and what gave the greatest poignancy to their sufferings was, they were left without hope. Whether they have ever found their daughter, I am not able to say, having never seen or heard from them since. At another time, passing through a part of Connecticut, I called at a tavern for some refreshment, where I had been previously acquainted ; I was asked, with some sur- prise, how I had made my escape from jail? This ques- tion immediately introduced a dispute between the land- lord and myself. He affirming that Iliad been commit- ted for theft, and I with equal assurance denying it. This dispute produced so much noise, that I was appre- Hended and carried back to jail, as they supposed ; but when we arrived, what was the surprise of my landlord, and the constable, when we found the Stephen Burroughs who had been committed for horse-stealing, quietly re- maining where he was first confined. The facts upon v.hich this laughable mistake took place, were of the following nature, viz. a certain person had been apprehended and committed to jail, under a suspi- cion of horse-stealing. My landlord, who had formerly known me, heard that a person, by the name of Stephen Burroughs had been committed to jail. This immedi= ately fixed an idea in his mind^that L was confined und&r \he s'.'qjiclon of theft. 236 MEMOIRS OF For some reason, the person, who had been committed, chose to assume my name and character, which circum- stance not only deceived my landlord, but likewise caused the report to be circulated that I was detected in horse- stealing. Had I conducted the business a little different, when I was accosted by the landlord, perhaps the matter would never have cdme to an explanation. He did not seem in- clined to apprehend me, at first; but, when I treated his .assertion with some harshness, he manifested a disposi- tion to let me know that I was in his power ; and that he would exercise that power, unless I soothed his resent- ment by more gentle measures. How he felt when the mistake was discovered, you can more easily conceive than I can (^escribe. His sensations were not of the most agreeable kind, you will readily imagine. Indeed, sir, 1 felt a degree of compassion towards the man under that situation, notwithstanding his conduct had not been of the most grateful kind. A number of instances, similar to these, have occurred since I came upon the stage of action. You will readily imderstaud what consequences would naturally proceed from such events. I found the world ever ready to give credit to such reports. When m aikind had once formed an unfavorable opinion, it was hard to eradicate such an idea, even by the most pointed evidence.* I recollect at a certain time, when I was among a peo- ple who did not know my real name and character. Among them I gained a credit and standing of the pleasing kind, long before my real name became known. I happened at this time to become acquainted with a certain physician, who came from a part of the country contiguous to where I had formerly lived. In the course of our acquaintance * About the year 1808, a respectable gentleman, of Boston, ac- costed me one day, saying, " Your old friend Burroughs has got into jail again." I asked him where ? He replied, " at Johnstown, in the state of Xew-York." I told him he must labor under a mis- take, for Burroughs was certainly then in Canada. He was quite piqued at this, and answered with an air of triumph, " Sir, I caruiot mistake ; for lam now direct from Johnstown, and hiorw that tho noted Stephen Burroughs lies there in prison ! II'* STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 237 lie told me, " that he was acquainted with a certain char- acter by the name of Stephen Burroughs, who, of all oth- ers, was the most singular. That he was a person pos- sessed of the greatest abilities of any man he ever knew." In order to illustrate more fully the truth of his observa- tions, he related many anecdotes concerning me, of the humorous kind, which I had never heard of before. " How I had deceived many people in the most Surprising man- ner, and to the general diversion of the country. How I would still continue to deceive them, notwithstanding all their precautions against me. How I would steal from the rich and give to the poor ; and that people were afraid to prosecute me, because l would ever find some shift to evade the business ; and would, moreover, always steal again from the person who had attempted the prosecu- tion ; however,'* continued the Physician, *' I could ever discern in his countenance the features of design. There ever was the appearance of deceit in his looks ; and I should have known him to be a rogue, had I never heard of his chai-acter. 1 believe," continued he, " that the countenance of a man is.a strong index of his natural dis- position ; as for instance, if you Avill permit me to make the comparison, without conceiving that I am attempting to flatter, I never saw a more striiiing contrast, than be- tween the designing, deceitful countenance of Burroughs, and your open, frank, und candid countenance. I have generally found men wearing such characters after ac- quaintance as tie expression of their countenances had in- dicated in the first place." You will readily conceive, sir, that I smiled at the har- rangue of this physiognomist. He remained at ease in the enjoynient of his own opinion for a while ; but the bubble soon broke, and he was fuirly exposed to public view, without the thinnest veil for a covering. My real name and character were soon developed to the pubiic, and all his knowledge in physiognomy was discredited im- mediately ; and even a great share of that science of which he was really master, fled at the same time. So fickle is the multitude ; so prone to run from one extreme into the other. This simple circujiistance produced the fail of the poor physician. 238 MEMOIRS OF Thus we see, sir, that every person, be his situation in life what it may, is more or less exposed to revolution, misfortune and disappointment. Those very means which we make use of to answer our purposes of promotion and exaltation are often the direct and only causes of our ca- lamity. We all wish to be huppy, and all use such means to obtain happiness as our judgment points out. From daily experience we learn how incompetent we are, to form right estimates of the various effects which will fol- low the measures we pursue ; therefore, he who depends upon the uncertain occurrences of events for his happi- ness, builds upon a very slender foundation, and will most assuredly fiiid the chances run against him. ** For these T>ure joys the world can never know ; ** In gentler climes theb^ silver currents flow. " Oft at the silent, shadowy close of day, ** When the hush'd grove has sung bis parting lay ; " When pensive twilight in his dusky car, "Slowly ascends to meet the evening stai' ; " Above, below, xrial murmurs swell, " From hanging woods, brov/n heath, and bushy dell ! " A thousand nameless rilio that shun the light, " Stealing soft music on the car of nig-ht. " So oft the finer movements of the soul, " That shun the shore of pleasure's gay control, "In the stiil shades of calm seclusion rise, " And breathe their sv/eet seraphic harmonies ! I have often wished that my memory was sufficient to retain a recollection of ail the mistakes which I have ei- ther made myself or have seen others make, during tb« course of my life. From such a circumstance, I think I should be able to learn, whether any general cause exist- ed in nature, which produces our miscalculations, or whe- ther they ylways arise from a general weakness of the mind, which is incurable. From what observations I have been able to make, I rather think the evil m^ay in some measure be remedied, but I believe not entii^ly cured. Should we lay aright foundation for happiness, and rear our superstructure upon that foundation, v.'e should all find an indesciibable advantage arising from soch a pro- cedure. I have once before hinted, that mankind were STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 239 generally in pursuit of riches and power, in order to ren- der themselves happy ; that this pursuit is not calculated to contribute to our happiness, but on the contrary, to mil- tate against it, will appear evident, when we take a candid view of the subject. That all mankind are descended from one common origin, and partake of the nature and feelings which are common to each other, is not only allowed by the united voice of all, but is likewise demonstrated by the united voice of nature, perpetually crying in the bosom of every person. Being all descended from the same origin, we are all upon the footing of brethren of the same family, entitled to equal privileges and immunities. Being mem- bers of one and the same family, we have a common in- terest in the prosperity of each individual which composes this family. This is the language of nature ; however, we may have our minds perverted by error and corruption ; hence, we find a language speaking within us, that we can- not silence ; a language that speaks strongly in terms of compassion towards those in imminent distress. Who can stand still and see another fall into the fire, without reaching forth the hand of assistance ? Who so insensible to the pleasures which he derives from socioty, that he will retire from them with indifference ! Are not all equally dependent on each other ibr the comforts which are en- joyed hi life ? Has not our great parent constituted the or- deuof things in wisdom, so that by follo\ving his laws we arrive at the most exalted state of perfection which things in this life admit ? It is a truth, I believe, apparent to every one, that all cannot possess power and riches ; nay, the greater part must ever remain without these acquirements ; therefore, he who strives for power and riches, endeavors to take from the general good of the whole, and appropriate to his own use. He endeavors to invert the order of nature, by depriving others of equal privileges, in order to add to his own, and by inverting the order of that wisdom which has bountifully provided for all her children, misery will en- sue, confusion and disorder will run through the body, and many inconveniences will be felt by every member of th6 240 MEMOIRS OF community. On the contrary, when we feel the affection of brethren towards each other ; when the welfare and prosperity of each member of society become, in a mea- sure, our own, how changed the scene ! how happy the prospect ! Our griefs become lessened by communicating them to others ; our joys are increased by the participa- tion of our friend I The disgraceful passions of hatred, envy, malice and revenge are lost for want of support. When we set out in life, under the auspices of this dis- position, and pursue such a course, we are in a situation not to lose our enjoyment by every puff of misfortune. We are inaccessible to the malignant passions, the great disturb- ers of human repose. In this line of conduct, we follow the directions of nature, and answer the purpose for which we were designed. Property, even riches, acquired by in- dustry, (not by power) are of use to contribute to our hap- piness ; by rendering us capable of lessening the necessi- ties of our brethren and fellow members of society. " O ye blest scenes of permanent delight ! *• Full above measure ! lasting beyond all bound^t " A perpetuity of bliss, is bliss. " Could you, so rich in rapture, fear an ei)d, " That ghastly thought would drink up all your joy, ** And quit in Paradise the realms of light. " Safe are you lodged above these rolling- spheres ; " The baleful influence of whose giddy dance " Sheds sad vicissitudes on all beneath.'* These ideas, to me, have ever appeared as matters of high importance ; and I wish to see some abler pen go deeply into the subject, and try the experiment thorough- ly, to see whether mankind can be reasoned into their own good. Should you, sir, devote a few of your leisure mo- ments to such an object, it might be attended with very salutary effects. It is said, " that mankind are daily grow- ing in useful knowledge.'* Perhaps this mr.y be true in a parti. 1 sense ; but it appears to me, that the state of socie- ty in the di.ys of the Spartan and Roman governments, was much more congenial to nature, than what we are under at present. At kast, we do not find such striking in- stances of affection towards the public welfare, among any STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 2^1 Mi ihe modern patriots, as what was instanced in the con- duct of Lycurg-us, Regulus, Cincinn.itus, Sec. Sec. I huve just hinted at a number of subjects in the course of this narrative which may appear to you somewhat mis- timed, considering the primary object was barely a narra- tion of facts. Yes, sir, this manuscript will ever be a me- morandum of those subjects, at which I have bareiy hinted; and as your attention is occupied by your station in socie- ty, with political objects, there remains a bare possibility of such a memorandum's being of service, in calling some of those subjects into view ; as this country is happily sit- uated, on many accounts, to pursue political inquiiies, without the embarrassments attending preconceived opin- ions and settled systems ; I feel the more desirous that the truth of these observations may be decided by experi- Tnent. Should they be productive of good to the commu- nity, even in the smallest degree, I shall feel the benefit of an essential reward, for suggesting those things. Should they, on the contrary, be found to be a system of error, I shall place them to the account of the many mistakes I have made through life, and rest satisfied that [ have wish- ed to have them productive of good. Whilst I am absent, you will have sufficient leisure to peruse the manuscript and detect the errors which 1 have been guilty of, and rest assured thi,t I shall ever receive any suggestions of yours upon that head as an additioual mark of that sincere friendship v/hich you have ever manifested. After you have sufficiently perused the present narra- tive, if you should wish for a continuation, I will attempt to gratify you as soon as my situation shall again become: so settled as to admit of writing. Entertainment of the highest nature, generally consists of a due variety, and I find people most fond of buying books of entertainment, where novelty, melancholy, hu- mor, joy and triumph are interchai geably the leading fea- tures; hence, Clarissa Hc.rlovv is condemned for being too gloomy. Young's Night Tlioughts fall under the same censure. The critics scy there is a want of a varieiy ; that our compassion is woumied, but never gr iiined ; tnat cur disgust is excited against certain cb.u'actervS; that the rc- vv ** ^^^ MEMOIRS OF v.arcis of vice are set forth, but nothing on the pleasing tide ; thut virtue is not rewarded ; that our compassion is not relieved, and that of course we feel nothing but pain- ful sensations. All these observations, I know, will ap- ply vvith propriety to my narrative. I should have been glad to have interspersed something of the pleasing kind among the relation of misfortunes ; but I could not do it consistently with the character of one, who had a regard to truth in his history. Should I pursue hereafter the history of the remaining part of my life, you may not be more pleased than what you are with that already .given. It is true, that I passed through many scenes entirely new, and partaking in some measure ol the humorous kind ; but that uninterrupted course of severe trials, which I have experienced from, the beginning, never forsook me until I arrived in this hospi- table town, where I have met wi:h that attention and kind- ness which has in a measure been a counter-balance to my former misfortunes. This observation, 1 believe, may not be misplaced, that v/henever I have suffered a temporary respite from the stroke of calamity, my feeUngs have been more alive to the enjoyment of my situation. The comparison has ev- er been striking, both to my view and feelings ; and of consequence, all the force of happiness had its operation upon my mind without any impediment. Another observation, I believe, ought to have a place l.ere, viz. that our minds, after giving way to the strokes cf calamity a v.'hile, will regain their vigor and pristine Liate of tranquillity, under the most trying situation ; hence we often find among our slaves (I blush to write the word) a degree of tranquility and evenness of temper which is wanting in the more exalted stations of life. Visit the piir.ons, c^nd you will find many in those situations who are desperate, weari-i;^ in their countenances a content of in- sensibility produced by despair. i recollect when I was in the dungeon at Northampton, and every prospect of relief was out of the question, that I felt a degree of CAlm or su-len content, under my situation. I r<;ally thought that -I rejoiced in it, '^becrai^e/* said I, STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 243 " the end wiil soon come to all my sufferings." These were my sensa%)ns, so lonc^ us the prospect of better days was out of the question ; but as soon as the sound of re- lief had reached my ears, these images fled like the " base - less f:ibric of a vision, and left not a trace behind." The mind, ^vhen out of her l)ias, is ever struggling for a state of rest, or tranquillity, and according to the strength she possesses, giins that situation sooner or later. There are but very few minds, but what will gain that situatioia ultimately, let the strokes of adversity be ever so heavy. It is true, that some are overpowered ; the powers of their minds are broken, and they either become delirious, or else sink to the grave under the pressure of misfortune. Of all situations in life, that is the most dreadful, which produces death or delirium, by those wounds which the mind has suffered. You iniimate, sir, that you v*ish me to give a particular description of the people in the dif- ferent states, their manners, their local peculiarities, their particular customs, their economy, property, industry, ge- nius and tempers ; likewise, the nature of the soil in dif- ferent p.irts cf this country, tiic price that Icind bears, nie quantity and kind vrhich it produces, the different meth- ods of agriculture, the different facility of obtaining a liv- ing, &c. You require of me a task which I do not think myself competent to perform with accuracy; however, in my next attempt, after my return, I v/iil endeavor to gr-.tify your request in as great a measure as my opportunity fur- nished materials for, when I made the tour of the United States. My situation v/as such, when I made a journey through the states that I had an opportunity of observing many things which other travellers havener ; on the other hand, travellers in general, have an opportunity of observing ma- ny things in the course of their travelling, which I had not; therefore, sir, if you can gather any thing from my observations on those subjects whicn you have reniiesied, either profitab.c or amusing, I s-hull be highly graiidcd "With n\y performance. ^i-i ME?^I0IR3 OF Baron Trenk observes, that he oi-ice travelled m his coach throujrh Poland ; that he thoiii- ht l|i|^?ii3 acquainted with the people, with their manners and genius. But af- terwards he was compelled to travel through this country, in a most ahjcct situation, and under the necessity of beg- gin>;- his bre.xd ; then it was he discovered his mistake. He found them to be another, and very different people, from what he had apprehended in his former tour. So true it is, that mankind will wear the veil of deception, generally, in all countries. Afy situation, in respect to property, was somewhat sim- ilar to the Baroii's, in his last tour through Poland, but to the hoiior of humcoiity be it said, tiiat in many places, I found a very diiferent reception fro^i what the Baron met with. Yet, in some instances, the unfeeling heart wore a prominent appearance in the character of the inhabi- tants of the country. In different states, I found a great difference in the man- ners and morals of the people ; in their refinement, feel- ings and sentiments ; and in different parts of the same states, I found this variation equally great. The causes wnich produce this, I will not undertake to assign ; how- ever, shall wish to hint my ideas respecting it when I enter on that subject. Could the causes of these variations be traced, and clearly miderstood, they would be of the utmost service to society, and an object worthy the attention of every benevolent mind. There is something in the system of education yet un- discovered, which, I believe, wculd have the most effec- tual operation upon the world of mankind, in forming their minds in such a manner as to render them fitted for the enjoyment of society, without the interruption of those ir- regularities, which overthrow the happiness of the social state, That denomination of people called Quakers, have brought their mode of education to the greatest state of perfection of any class with whom I have been acquainted. We find a state of the utmost order among them, and this too, founded upon the most simple principles. Their man- ners and conduct savor very strongly of their education. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 24J Haxin.^ never been educated to the business of farming, it ciuinot be expected that my mind was sufficiently en- liijhiened upon that head, to make such inquiries and ob- servations as would tend to throw light upon the subject ; liiough perhaps this might aftbrd an inquiry of the great- est utiiily to society, were it taken up and pursued by some one able to performthe task. True it is, that many dif- ferent methods are made use of in agriculture ; these methods are in a measure local, retained by those ivho have been iu the custom of using them, and parted from wiih reluctance for others, not so common, but perh?.ps more useful. What circumstances of that kind came to my viev/ and observation, I will mention. Perhaps you may draw some ideas from them which may be new and useful, but 1 have no expectation that you will many. Relating to the subject of land ; the price which it bears in diiierent pv;rts of the state, the quality, situation, con- venience, &c. which it possesses, its quality and kind of produce, the nett proceeds which it averages to the pos- sessor, in different places, are all objects which have claimed a condderable share of my attention, v.hen oppor- tunity has invested me wiih a chance for observation. I have, moreover, hud my attention much occu-^ied by the different degrees of industry and economy which have m.trked the characters of difierent people. It has been the practice of the greater part of writers to speak in general terms, respecting the subject of which they are treating ; this mode has undoubtedly its advan- tages ; but perhaps it may not embrace all the advantages which a more mhiute description would afford ; as fur ex- ample — should a wi iter, in general terms, describe the state of Georgia as a fruidui country, abounding v>ith the conveniences and luxuries of life, 8^c. the reader would un- doubtedly obtain an idea of its being a country in which property might be acquired with a degree of facility ; yet he could hardly form an accurate estimate of the particu- lar occupation or business v.hich would afford the most considerable and ready profit. Whether a capital would be absolutely necessary in order to prosecute business, and if necessary, how lar^e that capital njust be. He could not 246 MEMOIRS Ol'^ form an estimate of the difFerence in the profit, which iic ^vould realize by relinquishing business Ia one state and removinc^ to another ; as for instance, from New-Hamp- shire to Georgia ; and of consequence, could not deter- mine with propriety upon such an object, should it be pre- sented to his view. On the contrary, should the cost of an acreof land, in the state of nature, be shewn, the cost to render t'.iat acre productive, the profits which the land v.'ould afford, both in New -Hampshire and Georgia, then the reader would be possessed with data by which he might state his calculations, and form an accuraie estimate of the object of acquiring property, both in Georgia and New- Hampshire, and leavn the advantages, if any, that one ^vould have over the other, and how^ great that advantage would be. Thus likewise, by a minute description of the price which articles of importation bear in the two states ; t)m. price of those for exportation ; the quantily and quality of those articles ; the demand for them ; the facility of im- porting and exporting ; the price of living ; the mode of dealing, kc. would give a sufficient fund of information for any one to decide upon the subject of merchandize in cith- er state ; so likewise for mechanics, and eveiy other em- ployment which admits of profit. This is a system of writing which I do not recollect ever to have seen ; and I have somewhat wondered at the cir- cumstance. There are advantages to be derived from such a method, sufficiently great to claim the attention of the literary world ; and I believe such a method VTould af- ford more useful instruction to the philosopher, the poli- llcinn, the farmer, the mechanic, and the merchant, than any other which has been made use of. This method draws the picture of men and manners to the life, and gives every m. n ..n opportunity of viewing, and making his own reflections upon it. Vv'hen we arc, in this manner, made acqu.iinted with count! ies, men, manners, customs, he in the m.orc minute departments, v/e have data to form our own opinions relat- ing to the various causes which produce the different ef- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 247 fects upon society, and are not dependent on others for an opinion respecting them. When I travelled through the states, my situation and circumstances did not admit that extensive opportunity for information and observation upon these subjects which my propensity led me to desire. However, what observations I v^^as in a capacity to make, I paid the strictest attention to form, with as much accuracy as my judgment would allow. I did not settle down upon an opinion until I had satisfactory evidence of the just principle upon which it was founded. Should I ever again travel through the states, I should devote my attention greatly to such an ob- ject ; and endeavor, upon the most thorough plan, to in- vestigate all the little secret springs which set the wheels cf society in motion. Should the population and emigrations into these states be as great for one hundred years to come as they have been for the same time past, what an amazing multitude must this continent contain ! Nature seems to be swiftly hastening forward her events to fill up the measure of time ! Here is a vast field for the philosophic eye to view. Perhaps there may be more effected for the good of soci- ety, during the continuation of the American settlements, improvements, inventions and experiments, than ever took place at any other, or perhaps at every period, since time began. The philanthropist will be induced to labor with redoubled exertion in this field, owing to the animating prospect of success which he will have in view, as a re- ward for his labor. • Did the philosopher have nothing more in view, than his own particular benefit, this .would be a sufficient mo- tive for him to be incessant in his researches after that knowledge and improvement, which would tend to the general good ; there is a general connection Avhich does, and must exist in the world : and no man discovers and communicates useful knowledge to mankind, but he him- self will reap the advantage." ;^o discovery, in its crude state, but what adm.its of im- provement. When it is flung open to the world, eveiy person has the opportunity of amending, improving, and 248^ MEMOIRS OF, &c. altering, as judgment and experiment will dictate, until it is brought to perfeclion ; and then every member of soci- ety enjoys the privilege which such improvements pro- duce. A stronger motive than all these considerations. has its influence upon the mind of the real philosopher. To view himself as able to promote the happiness of liis bre- thren, the common stock of the human race ; to see him- self contributing to increase their joy, comfort and pros- perity ; to behold the various circles of society w^feng countenances vacant of care and remorse ; to see the ten- der connexions among more intimate degrees of consan- guinity indulged in their utmost latitude, without the cloud of care to intervene, or the corroding sting of disappoint- ment I This is a luxury of enjoyment, a feast of pleasure, beyond the utmost conception of the voluptuous epicure I And the more deeply we dip into these enjoyments, the keener is our appetite for their relish, i hese bring no alloy, no pain, no disease. No evil attends their indul- gence, no repentance grows from their use. And now, sir, permit me to address this wish to you and family — that the perfection of all these grateful sensations may be enjoyed by you in their fullest measure. That as your family increases, their opening minds may drink deep of this principle, and enjoy the effects so long as they con- tinue to occupy a station upon the stage of mutual depend- ence. That the most striking examples of filial, parental, counubial, and fraternal affection may pervade the whole body ; and wheri such a series of time has rolled away, as to admit you among the higher order of beings, in that state where we are but little acquainted, may the memo- ry of you and family be called into view with the most grateful emotions, and pleasing sensations. I remain, dear sir, with sentiments of the warmest esteem, your much obliged, humble servant, STEPHEN BURROUGHS, J. G. Esq. END OF VOL. I. MEMOIRS OF STEPHEN BURROUGHS. TO WHICH, AliE ADDED, NOTES, APPENBIX-. l^Tien such ^ad scenes the bosom pain. What eye from weeping- can refrain. VOL.11. COPY RIGHT SECURE©. t ALBANY: rLT5USIlED BY B. D. PACKARD, No. 51 STATE-SfTREET R. PACKARD, PRINTER. 181L MEMOIRS OF STEPHEN BURROUGHS CHAP. I. ** Thus the lorn wretch, by ignis fatuus led. Pursues the g-leam which charms his lonely way : Nor, till destruction whelms his hapless head. Suspects the dangers of the treacherous ray." JL WAS determined, when I left Worcester, to quit the country in such a manner as to leave no traces of my route behind. I intended to go to Long-Island, in ^le State of New-York, and there reside, until I could look about me a little ; see what was to be done ; and where I could procure a place to move my family. All the day, following my escape from confinement, I lay in the woods, unknown to any person whatever. At the close of the day, I repaired to a friend, who carried me about ten miles on my way; and, at parting, gave me directions how to pursue my route to the best advantage ; informing me where to take a road, not so much frequented, but much nearer than the main road. At this time J had with me fourteen dollars in cash, one shirt, a pair of breeches, a pair of stockings, boots, waistcoat, and gown ; all which I had on. This com- prised the whole of my wardrobe, and all the property I had about me. - Not long after leaving my friend, I turned into a road, which I supposed was the one pointed out, and. pursued it with diligence, until I came to a pair of bars The night, by this time, became extremely dark j the '^ ' MEMOIRS OF * sky being overcast with thick clouds, and the rain be- ginning to pour down in torrents. I did not suspect my being in the wrong road ; but found the ^yay much less frequented than I had expected, from the direction of my friend. I concluded, likewise, that I should meet with more difficulty in following the foot-path, than I; had contemplated before the night had become so ex- tremely dark. I got over the bars,^ however, and pur- sued my course, until I found myself in the midst of a swamp, composed of brakes, mire, and rocks, without any path to direct me, or knowing what way to extri- cate myself I tried to find the way out of this swamp by measuring back my fc/mier couvsc. After repeated trials, I found it impossible. The more I attempted to find the way back,, tl>e deeper I found myself involved in difficulty. Sometimes I would plunge to my knees in mud; I would then ^cautiously seek for a rock, and erawl out of my filthy predicament, by its friendly aid : and yet, by taking one incautious step, I was plunged headlong into the mire. With this difficulty I strug- gled about four hours, when I once more found myself, on diy ground. . How much does our happiness depend on our reason- ing wiih propriety upon the various subjects which of- fer themselves-to our view I When I had again got my foot upon dry ground, I felt exceedingly happy, notwith- standing I was .wandering alone through this di'cary night, drenched with rain and covered with mud ; not- withstanding I had torn one of my boots in such a man- ner as to let my foot to the ground at every step ; and had, likewise, torn my foot almost as bad as my boot. — Thus we may enjoy happiness in the most forlorn situa^ tion. I sought diligently for a path, or some directory by which I might again find the road. I soon found my- self in a foot-path, which I pursued until I was led into a large frequented road. I judi^ed that, by this time, I had travelled between twenty and thirty miles, since I had parted from my friend. I expected 1 was in the state of Connecticut, and fiir enough from the place of my ac- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 5 quaintance, to travel through the day without bein^ known. I passed by a large house about the breaking of day, which appeared to be a place familiar to my eye ; but could not recollect myself so as to determine where I was. I passed on a little further ; and, what do you think, Sir, was my astonishment, when I discovered myself in Oxford, (a town adjoining to Worcester) walk- ing, with hasty strides, back to prison ; being now four miles nearer Worcester, than I was the preceding eve- ning, when my friend left me. I immediately turned my course, and left the main road, and made my way towards Douglass-woods, (a wild, barren forest.) As the rain yet continued, without in- termission, and the morning, of consequence, was dark, I believe I was not seen by any person. I ran, with the utmos^speed, about an hour and a half; and concluded, that, by this time, I had nearly arrived into the State of Rhode-Island; when, again, to my utter astonishment, I was about re-entering the great road which led back to Worcester, near where I had left it, "What," said I to myself, " am I mad ? Am""I divested of every ray of- reason ? Am I designed for destruction, and led to it by infatuation :" "The truth is, I was so bewildered by my wanderings through the night that I had lost all a- bility to calculate respecting the points of the compass. Under these circumstances, the only way 1 had to pur- sue, was to take the most open and direct road to Doug- lass Meeting-House. It was now about 10 o'clock in the morning. The rain had ceased, and the sun broke out from the clouds, and shone very warm, it being no\r the month of June. Having been without any refresh- ment through the night preceding, after enduring, such a course of fatigue, you will not wonder at my feeling faint and weary, by this time, for the want of food. After I had travelled some distance in the town of Douglass,! intended to procure some refreshment. This I calculated to obtain at a private house, considering I should be more exposed to be- seen and known by the variety of company that might be at a Uvern. I there- fore called sit a small, snug house by the way side, a2 6 MEMOIRS OP No sooner had I entered this House, than the man, starting up, exclaimed, " How do you do, Mr. Bur- roughs ?" This salutation very much disconcerted my feelings ; which being perceived by the man, he an- swered, " that I might make myself perfectly easy ; that no person should molest me while I tarried at his house ; that I might remain there as long as I desired." And without asking whether I was hungry, ordered his wife to get some victuals ready immediately. I was apprehensive that all this seeming kindness was only an intended delusion, with an expectation of procuring help to carry me back to Worcester; and more espe- cially after he told me he was going on my way about four miles. My suspicion was so strong against him that I intended, the first opportunity, to pretend an oc- casion to step into the bushes, and by this means, make my escape. After I had refreshed myself we set off together on our way. Finding the country entirely open threugh ^hich we passed, I could not put my^ intended flight in- to execution ; not finding any bushes by-the way. Af- ter we had travelled about two miles, we were met by- two men, one of whom I knew, being on the Grand Ju- ry, at Worcester, at the time of my trial ; the other was a Justice of the Peace, to whom my fellow-traveller in- troduced me, expressing his satisfaction, at the same time, that I had got out of " their damn'd clutches.** — The Justice and Juror gave me their hands ; hoped it was for the best that I was at liberty ; wished I might meet with kinder treatment ; and so left us. At this moment I felt a mountain's weight removed from my mind. I was satisfied that my fellow-traveller me^nt me no injury. I felt, likewise, that people generally viewed-my treatment at Worcester as I did myself. We travelled together until my fellow traveller arri- ved at the place of his destination. We ^here parted with expressions and feelings of reciprocal frieadship. After I had left this man, and had taken a view of the incidents of the day, I began lo think that people were generally informed into the nature and particulars of my STEPHEN BURROUGHS^ / trial ; and from that inforniation had conceited a dis- gust towards the Court, and a desire that I- might elude, J as much as possible, the effects of the sentence against me. Under this idea, I determined to travel openly, and to wear no disguise on my journey to Long-Isl- and. On the evening of this day, I arrived at CHoiicester, a town in the state of Rhode-Island, and put up at the house of one Owen. Immediately after, I went into a shoe- maker's shop, hard Sy, in order to get my boots mended. The shoe-maker gave me a pair of slippers to wear while my boots were mending, which were so small that I could scarcely put my toes into them. When I had returned into tlfe house, the landlord, who was aii impertinent fellow, having his curiosity ex- cited by my looks, dress, &c. asked me from whence I came ; who I was. Sec. In the simplicity of my heart I told him all the circumstances relating to myself. Ow- en observed that many people had accused him of af- fording shelter to the insurgents' at the time of Shays* rebellion ; but that he would be damned if they brought any such accusations against him again. After he had made these observations, he went out, and in about half an hour, returned with a Constable and Justice of the Peace. I was again interrogated by them respecting the circumstances of my leaving Worcester, Sec. : to all ■ which I gave a simple detail. So strongly was I infatu- ated. " * After I had ended my narration, Owen, the Justice and Constable retired into another room, to consult what measures to take. There was a traveller at this time, who had put up at this house, and \yas in the room where the consultation was held. He soon came into the room where I was sitting, and beckoned me out. I immediately obeyed his motion, and received informa- tion that a plan was in agitation to carry me back to Worcester. This hint was sufficient. I was roused ffom my stupidity ; and immediately left the house of my good landlord Owen. My boots were in the shoe- maker's shop. I had nothing I could wear on my feet. 6 MEMOIRS OF ♦ I could not travel in my slippers. I must walk bare- footed. Under these embarrassments, and by no means so re- freshed by rest as to feel vigorous for another night*s travel, I again began my pedestrian exercise. Soon af- ter I had set out on my night's walk, the rain began a- gain to descend in torrents, which continued through the whole night. I found the pain from walking excru- ciating. My feet had been miserably torn the night be- fore. The gravel over which I had to v^lk, was sharp ; and the darkness of the night prevented my seeing the stones and rubbish against which I perpetually dashed my feet. Notwithstanding the pains which I suffered, the soli- tary situation in which I spent the night brought the va- rious scenes into view, through which I had passed in such a disagreeable succession. The events of my life I found still chequered with the most surprising varie- ty. One moment lifted on the pinnacle of hope, and the next, dashed into the vale of despondency. I have (said I) passed through a series of trials at Worcester, the parallel to which is not to be found in the history of man. To be indicted for the attempt to ravish, and those bills predicated upon suc4i circumstan- ces as were exhibited in testimony, is to me altogether unaccountable. What is still more unaccountable is, the determination, anxiety, and pains of two of the Judges to have the verdicts returned against me ; and even to terrify any who should look towards me with an eye of compassion. But what winds up the scene to the great climax of astonishment is, that a Jury should be so far wrought upon by such measures as to return a verdict against me. As though one thunderbolt was not sufficient to fall upon my devoted head, I was again brought forward to answer to two new bills of indictment, accusing me of the samc.facts, but calling them by another name, (viz.) open lewdness. You, Sir, will be more able to judge of the propriety and legality of this transaction than I. This is a crime but little known in our country. I do STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 9 not recollect of ever hearing of a trial for such an of- fence, before I was called to answer to a charge of that nature. I iiad then blit a moment's time for consider- ation ; but am more confirmed, upon further investiga- tion, of the propriety of my first ideas upon the subject^ (viz.) that it^iust be an open transaction, in order to come within the nature of the crime. I am sensible the nature of this crime has ever been, in a measure, left indefinite. All I recolject ever having seen upon the subject, by any of the writers on criminal law, was in Hale's Pleas of the Crown. He explains the crime by saying, that it is such conduct as " those were guilty of, who shewed themselves naked, in the balcony, on the king's birth-day ;" or to that purpose. This, I think, is suffici*ent to shew, that ofienncss is an essential part to constitute the crime ; and that unless the lewdness be open, it cannot be punishable by law. One circum- stance is worth noticing by the way, viz. Daniel ^acoii and wife testified, under solemnity, at the court of in- quest, that on a particular night, (they were very posi- tive as to the particular night) their daughter was out and not to be found ; a number of months- afterwards she told that she was with me at that time ; though when inquiry wat first made, she gave a very different reason for her being absent, too indelicate to find a place in this narrative: As this was -somewhat of st memorable night, on account of a number of circum- stances, I recollected my being in company with a gen- tleman of undoubted veracity the whole time in which it was possible for me to be with the witness, according to her testimony. I produced this gentleman, who made oath to this fact, before the Ju'stice by whom I was com- mitted; When the trial came on at Worcester, before the Siipreme Court, the fatUer, mother, and daughter, had then very ingeniously forgotten on what particular night the transaction took place ; but only remembered it was sometime in the month of June. I believe. Sir, you will understand, by this time, there was not the greatest partiality in the Court, in my favour ; and that I did not stand any very extpaordinarf chance for sin> 10 MEMOIRS OF pie justice upon this business. After the trial wa» ended on the part of the Jury, it appeared that the sentence was as extraordinary as the trial. Happy for the world that the heart is not always callous to the feelings of justice or compassion ! How different was the treatment I received from my kind entertainer at Douglass ? Can the mind, fraught with compassion, look upon his conduct but with the highest veneration ? We see in him, the operation of the laws of nature, unsophisticated by the pomp of dignity, and the vio- lence of passion. He saw no fatal consequences of the ruin of society, of the destruction of morals, and of the overthrow of virtue, by my escape. He wished me happy. He wished me liberated from misery. Ke saw no danger arising to himself, as a member of soci- ety, or to any other, from my obtaining this. He acted accordingly. How contrary to this was the conduct of Owen ! Because he had borne an imputation of blame, he would render me back^gain to misery ; not because justice required, or the laws of humanity called for my apprehension ; but because he should suffer additional blame in entertaining mc at his house, under such cir- cumstances. Where will this principle lead, but to the commission of every species of wickedness ? When we make our convenicncy a rule to infringe upon our neighbour's privileges, we shall not fail to rob him of his property, health, and life, when our conveniency shall call for such a transaction. After travelling UHtil near day, I turned off from the main road, and toDk a path \yhick ultimately led into a large open field. In the midst of the field I found the bottom of an old stack of hay, and a yard^ of crooked fence around it. I took a large flake of hay, and laid it on some rails which I had fixed for that purpose, and creeped under it, to shelter myself, in some small measure^ from the rain. I was, by this time, so far exhausted by the fatigue of travelling, and the pain of my feet, that I could not proceed any further ; there- fore I crawled under this flimsy shelter, with more pleasure tlian many ftcl in retiring to a bed of down, STEPHfeN BURROUGHS. U hung with rich tapestry, and lulled to sleep by the en- chanting sound of music. I had scarcely laid my head to the ground, before I was fast locked in the leaden arms of sleep. All things were lost to my knowledge, until about 10 o'clock, when I was aroused f»om my profound slumbers, by the repeated cries of men. When I first awoke, I expected that Owen and his gang had made pursuit after, and had overtaken me. But how it was possible for them to trace my route to this place, was wholly a mystery. I was not suffered, how- ever, very long, to contemplate on this subject. I was ordered to turn out. There were three men around me. Owen was not one of them. I found that I had travel- led twenty miles since I left him ; and therefore con- cluded myself out of danger from him, and from being "known by the men who Avere with me. I was deter- mined not to run into the same error heile as I had at Gloucester, by relating my name, situation. See. I demanded of the men what they wanted of me ? They soon informed me, that their design was to carry me to Providence, supposing me to be an accomplice with George Irish, who nad been committed to Providence jail, on a suspicion of counterfeiting bank bills. A num- ber of his accomplices had made their escape, for the apprehension of whom a reward was offered. Being found by these men, in such a situation, they suspected I was one who had fled on the before mentioned account. I endeavored to convince them that so far from being an accomplice with George Irish, I had never seen him. I believe they were pretty thoroughly convinced of their mistake ; but still supposed that some extraordinary cause had brought me to this place ; and therefore talk- ed of carrying me to Providence. I was sensible I should be recognized In that town; and of course, should be exposed to the danger of being carried back from thence to Worcester. The men perceived that I was unwilling to be carried to Proyidence ; and being desirous to make me turn to some account, began to ban- ter me upon the price I would give for my liberation. I cxpostukted with them upon the cruelty of exacting 12 MEMOmS OF money for my liberation ; but my expostulations were in vain. I found they were bent upon carrying me to Providence unless I would buy them off. After much altercation upon the subject, they consented to release me foi%eleven dollars. I gave them tlve money and they went off. After I had got rid of my disagreeable companions, I tigain walked on as well as the soreness of my feet would allow. I had travelled about a mile, when I began to feel'extremely faint for the want of food. I therefore determined to go into the first house, and obtain some jefreshment, if possible. I accordingly entered a house, hard by .the way side, and asked the woman of the house, if she \/ould pei init me to take a dinner with her. My appearance, my lameness. Sec. had a strong effect upon her feelings. She gave me a pleasant dinner^ and said many thingfe to sooth and comfort me. She wanted to know nr^re particulars relating to my circumstances than I wished to communicate. ^ After I had rested my- self awhile, and was about making ready to compensate the good woman^for her kindness and refreshment, she desired me to sit down tor a mmutc She then went into another room, and soon returned wiili a pair of thin shoes, belonging to her husband, tolerably good, and presented them to me. I offered to compensate her for the shoes and dinner ; but she refused tcf receive any thing, alleging that, " thy necessities are greater than mine ; and when thou seest one in distress, an^d hast it in. thy power to relieve him, remember that be is thy ^brother.'* I was struck with astonishment at the nobleness, com- bined with simplicity, of this woman's sentimerfts. Did mankind view the relation they stand in to tach other with these sentiments of benevolence, and act according- ly, how changed would be the miseries of life, to scenes of the most pleasing contemplation ? There, said I, is re- ligion, manifested in a clearer manner, than what Ridg-^ ley has displayed in his whole body of Divinity. There is virtue ; there is benevolence ; and finally there is every thing which ennobles the human, character. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 1> After I hcd left this house, I travelled on again ; but so great wus the embarrassment I met with from my feet, that -with all my exertion, I did not travel more than four miles through the remainder of that day. My feet were too much sv> olen to admit of my travelling with my shoes on ; I was, therefore, under the disagreeable necessity of carrying them in my hands. This was on Saturday ; and I concluded, that resting one day without travelling, would serve to recruit my feet so as to be able to wear my shoes. And as I should have a plausible pretext for lying by on Sunday, I determined to appropriate that time for such a purpose. I found it would be impossible for me to travel in this country without giving some account of myself, or disoblig- ing the people at whose houses I should call ; and there- fore found it necessary to fix upon some system, and be uniform in it. To pass for an inhabitant of any of the towns in New-England, I was constantly exposed to meet with people, whu w^ould either be %n inhabitant of) or ac- quainted in the tov/n from whence I pretended to come ; and this leading to a discovery of the deception, people would be led to form unfavorable conjectures concernin^-^' ine, perhaps, more than they cughc. Under these cir- cumstances, I thought it best to pass for a foreigner, and lay the scene of my birth, kc. in London ; as the probabil- ity w ould be, that 1 should not often meet with my fellow tov/nsmen of that place ; and even should that be the case* I could still act my part without detection as a m.ember of that great city ; it being easiiy accounted for that I should not be acquainted with every individual in sucii a populcais place. My birth, place of abode, Sec. I fixed in Leaden- hall-street. My real parentage, connexions, Sec. I retain- ed, only transporting them t« London. Some account I must give for my leaving England, and coming into Anitr- ica, and for my present forlorn situation. I concluded that the real account, with a little alteriition, would answer, only changing the place of action. Moreover, as this last information would be considered by people in general, as a delicate point, they would be more willing to receive their inforniation by distant hints, VOL. II. B U MEMOIRS OF I had determined to vcar this character until I could in- troduce myself into l)usiness, and obtain an establishment for my family ; until I could, likewise, seethe operations of the world towards me, under my red name. I expect- ed that in this situation I could form a better estimate of •wh;it would be prudent for me to do, as I should then be in a capacity to learn the feelini^s of the public towards me ; and Vvhat would be their treatment, should 1 discover myself and reassume my real character. I entered a tavern and called for entertainment over night. Soon after I had been in the house, I discovered the landlord was sick. After inquiry, I perceived that he had the remitting; fever, which I m.entioned in the course of conversation. This aroused his attention, and he enquired eagerly whether 1 was a doctor ? Thinking I might reap an advantage from this profession on this oc- casion, and being persuaded 1 could help the man, I as- sumed the character of an English physician with no small degree of parade. Iwas fortunate in my administrations, which gave seasonable and efrectu.i relief I tarried here till jMcnday morning, and to my no small satisfaction, found I could travel v/ith my shoes on my feet. When 1 departed, I was rewarded with a French crown for my medical assistance. About noon this day I overtook a man dressed in clean, neat apparel, carrying a bottle of rum. He accosted me in the following manner. "• Shipmate, will ye take a drop of rum to cheer your spirits this warm day r" I did not wish to treat his friend- jy salutation with neglect or contempt. It has ever been a principle by which I have wished to regulate my con- duct, to treat the sentiments of benevolence with attention, let them be manifested in ever so singular cr wncouth a mi.nncr. Accordingly, I accepied the benevolent invita- tion of this Kibernian. Not being possessed with an ap- petite for rum, 1 only put ihe bottle to my mouth, and of- fered to retuin it ; but my fellow-trc.reller refused to re- ceive it uniil I had drank again. '' And now, sir,'' said he, " lam an Lishmari myself I have lived in this country fourteeu yera's. I married a fine girl here, and have five Hne clii'.drcn. I tell you, sir, they »re 'as likely cbildreii STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 15^ as any in the country ; and this is allowed by all. I serv- ed my time in Dublin with a -weaver My father was a ■weaver ; and indeed he thought no little of himself at that business : but one bloody day I bate him at weaving ; at v/hich the old man orthered me to fetch him a pail of wa- ther, and he poor'd it on the ground. This he kept doing till I fatched forty pails of wather : then the old man took and gave me a bloody bating. At this I run off and listed for a soldier, and came into this country. But, sir, you look like one in distress. Are ye of this country r*' iSIy answer was in the negative, but told him I was from Lon= don. At this the Hibernian jumped towards me, seized rne by the hand, and shook it in such a manner as to feel that he was in earnest. He observed that we were old neighbors ; for London, said he, is but a short bit from. Dublin. After our mutually recognizing each other for old neigh- bors, he looked at me with an arch significance, and ob- served, that some misfortune he presumed had brought me to this country. I told him, it truly was so ; that an unfortunate contest had rendered it necessary for me to leave the country " O ho 1" siud he, " you fought a du- el ?" I assented. " By J — s," said he, '^ did you challenge him fair ?" I did. He then seized my hand again, and declared he was satisfied that I was a good fellow. '' And by the Immortal," said he, " you shall go home with me, and I will keep you a fortnight, and then will put a dollar into your hand. I am determined to fight a duel myself ■with a bloody rascal,"*who sojd me a cow, and told me she was farrow, and all the time she had a calf in her ; and you shall go and be my second." You will readily conceive that this invitation did no way comport with my views and desire. I had recourse to a number of excuses to elude the force of it. The Hiberni- an was not willing to accept any apology I could make ; and it w-as with difficulty I obtained my release from this knight of the bottle. However, after marching and coun- termarching some length of time he gare up the pursuit; ivA let me depart with the honors of war. 16 MEMOIRS OF Thus I found it difficult to pass without great obstruc- tions in my first essays upon the plan which I had studied with so mucli caution, and which I thought might be pur- sued without interruption. Sir, my best wishes wait on you. CHAP- II. *• Bent on destruction, and in love witli death ! Not all these luminaries, quench'd at once, Were half so sad as one benig-hted mind, Which gropes for happiness, and meets despair." ixFTER I had freed myself from my troublesome com- panion, I hastened on to Stonington-Point, in order to find a pcissage to Long-Island. When I had arrived, I found the prospect of such a passage not very flattering ; and therefore determined to go to New-London, a town four-., teen miles distant, where I was informed a packet ran re- gularly once a week. In the course of the next day I ar- rived at New-London, where I immediately went on board a boat ready to sail for Long-Island. Early the next morn- ing we arrived at Sag-Harbor, the only port of entry on this island. I now supposed myself on ground where I should no longer be exposed to the cruel lash of the envenomed tongue of slander. I supposed my-self in a situation con- venient to begin my operations in order to establish myself in business. I passed hei-e for an Englishman lately from London, forbearing to subjoin the word new. My name was demanded. I told them it was Stephen Edenson, (my father's name being Eden.) The people therefore called jny name Edenson. I acquiesced in the name. I began to inquire for a vacancy where a school -master was wanted. I had not long made tiie inquiry, before I was accosted by a gentleman, who introduced himself to me by the name of Havens. I was informed by the land- lord of the inn where I had put up, that the gentleman was Judge Havens of Shelter-Island. After inquiring from whence I came, my education, my age, my objects, STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 17 kc. he informed me that he lived on Shelter-Island, about three miles from that pkce ; thtit the island contained about thirty families ; thai they were destitute of a school, and wished to eng.;ge an instructor ; " therefore," said he, " if you wish to accept ihe chctnce, I will use my influence in your behalf on theislmd, thatfoa mty obtain the school. It will not be an object of any considerable consequence, only to give you a temporary standing amon^ us, until you become acquainted with the ways and manners of the peo- ple of this countrv^ and learn the objects which may oSer lor your attention." I accepted the o*Jer made by Judge Havens, and took passage with him in a boat going to the island. V/hen I arrived, I found the island lying nearly in a circular form, containing, by estimation, about 8000 ucres. On this island lived the number offamiiies as mentioned before ; among ^vhom were three, by the name3 of Nichols, D jaring, and Havens, who were the chief proprietors of the island. There was a tavern kept by one Havens, in the middle of the island. He likev^ise kept a small store of goods in his house. This man possessing many slngulaiiues, -svhich rendered him a person on v/hom the attention of strangers -was naturally drawn, I think it aeccssriry to give you some furii^er description of him. This publican was extremely fond of being in the secret of every man's business and circumstances, and not only so, but likewise to have it thought so by others. So strong was his desire for knowledge in all the minute circum- stances v>'hich rel-.ted to anyone, that, wheiW/er a stranger entered his house, his first conversation would be directed to his name, circumsiances, connexions, Sec, Should the stranger chsjice to carry .i portmanteau with hira, or a bun- dle of any kind wnatever, he might lay his account to havo it searched, even before his face" Hi's thirst for conversa- tion was insatiable. Hid tongue h ad almost become a per- petual motion, and what rendered tnis circumscaace high- ly disagreeable was, that he was so deaf that one must hal- loo with great strength in order to nvAe iuni iiear any an- swers to his innumerabte questions. He was fond of shewing his sagacity by understanding half ans\-jr3y ^v^d VOL. II. c lo MEMOIRS OF ir^oiionsof the head and countenance. Hence he frequent- ly obtained strange ideas of the occurrences of the limes, S:c. Notwithst^iulhig this humorous side of the picture, the reverse was drawn with many virtues. He was a man <^f unshaken integrity in all matters in which he was con- cerned, either of a public or private nature ; much attach- ed to order and regularity as a member of society, rigidly just in all his dealings, and a constant promoter of the memsof general information. Under these circumstances, many laughed at his foibles, and at the same time revered his virtues. Mr. Nichols was born to a state of affluence, and was happily connecte'1 with a most agreeable family. Col. Deariijg v/as in "possession of a large estate, encum- bered vaih considerable debts, which, by a system of strict cconon.y, he was annually decreasing. This man posses- sed good information respecting his domestic matters, be- . yond which his capacity did not extend. He was extreme- ly haughty, and a presbyterian bigot. 1 found the secluded situation of this island had a very decided influence upon the manners of its inhabitants. By 3iot having that ccnstant opportuniiy for intercourse with other parts of the world, they beciime extremely attached to their OAvn peculiar manners and customs, to a degree of bigotry, which was very disagreeable to a stranger up^n a ■first iicciu?iintance. I found that want of ease and accessi- bility, of that candor and liberality, vvhich so peculiarly characterises a people of refinement. Notwithstanding, when these difTiculties were once surmounted, I found hem a people possessing many excellent qualities of heart. The principles of economy were pretty vv ell understood .y the inhabi'ants of this island. Their soil was not so luxuriant as to preclude the necessity of economy. An acre of this, ground would produce, upon an average, fif- teen bushels of wheat, and twenty-four bushels of Indian corn. It afforded a moderate s'.rpply of gra^s for neat cat- tle ; but the productions of a dairy, which might be made considerably profitable, were entirely neglected. Their improvements in agriculture did not appear to be making rapid advances towards perfection. Their situation was under most excellent privileges, as it relented to marketing STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 19 Iheir produce, and obtaining their returns ; it ever being convenient to send to New- York by vessels from their own shores. Land on this island sold about eight dollars the acre. I obtained a school at the moderate price of six dolhrs per month, together with my boarding, washing and lodg- ing. I entered upon this office with no very sanguine ex- pectations of making a pemianent establishment for my- self and family. Yet it was a resting place from severer trials. I was retired from the world, and sheltered from the storm, which had been so abundantly poured upon my devoted head. I was in a situation, I thought, too incon- siderable to raise the feelings of jealousy, or alarm the most selfish mind. Yet in this I labored under a mistaken apprehension. A son of the inn-keeper, who had former- ly taught a school on this island, whs much mjortiiied at my introduction into a place whici he had once filled, and which he wished to occupy again. He considered roe as a person of very little consequence, being poorly dressed, and was attentive to treat me accordingly. He frequently gave me invitations to assist him in the la1x)rs of the field at my leisure hours from school. He carried Lis polite- ness so far one afternoon, as to threaten to turn me out of the house, if I would not assist him in raking hay. But my tranquillity was not much injured by these circum- stances, knowing this spark to be totally destitute of t'^iC power vrhich he threatened to exercise ; and otherwise too inconsiderable to aftect my interest with the people. My situation was such as to excite the greatest anxiety of the inn-keeper to develope a character which appeared to be somewhat Teiled in mysteiy. His assiduous atien- lion to my concerns was marked with the most noticeable circumstances. He would often throw himself in my w.iy , in order to assure me how much he felt interested in n.y weifaie, and likewise of the unbounded confidence I rln;^^.t place in him, in any matters which might partake of the nature of difficulty or secrecy. By half answers, inuendos and shrewd suggestions, the Old m:.n had obtained a most surprising idea of my hisio- ry ; and Borry s^i I to say it, too much vra* uGted on my 30 ^ MEMOIRS OF . put, to communicate this unfounded system of ideas in his inlnd. These were secrets of too great magnitude for him to comprise in his own breast, without pain of tiie gieatest iiind ; therefore, to ease his mind of the enor- mous loud under which he groziued, he imparted his trust to mi.ny of his friends. However, they were not convinced !h:it they had obtained all the circumstances which related \ ) my life. They therefore entered into a plan to pursue ■ lie cii:icovcry ; and accordingly agreed among themselves persuade me to Avrite to some of my acquaintance in i^Uj-iAud, or some of the British dominions ; and uncle Jim. us the innl^eeper was called, was to send the letter, : V t!ie v\'a.y of Ncw-Vork, imniedidteiy to the place of des- Iriation. Uncle Jirn's deafness discovered to me the !ot which was so ingeniously concerted, and the part hich he v,'3s to maintain in it. Being appiised of the design cf ibis jacobin club, I eusiiy cntei-ed into the plan, arid made it u scene of great amusement. I wrote a long letter to the Right Honorable Lord George Montague, Sec. kc. : I filled the body of the letter v/ith hii^h encomi- U7113 upon uncle Jim and his family, more particularly his daughters. This was touching him upon a string which -.ibr-ted to the cirnire of his heart. His favorite object v*ds the beauty of his daughters and the excellency of his family. The olcl gentleman was running over full of sat- isfaction upon the discovery of these mighty state secrets. H-e began to contem.plpte the probaljility of his becoming known to the first families in the British donanions, and of obtaining the whole budget of secrets relating to them ; and likewise the office of an agent to transact their busi- ness. Tiiese circumstances brought me into a situation some- what disagreeable. I was reduced to a condidon in wd;iich I was obliged, in seme mersurcj to i;ive countenance to those representations which I found had obtained among the people at large. The fact was, that for my own di- version. 1 had given rise to those lidiculous ideas which had t:;ken such deep rjot in the minds of those who were concerned in the letter plot ^ that I found no small degree oi" daneer in receding from the ground wliich I had first t:d:cii. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 21 As I became more acquainted with the people on this : Viand, I found their curiosity more exercised in penetrat- ing the secrets of my pretended history. Their continu- ed questions on this' subject growing more and more irk- some, I found, that by my own imprudence, I had involv- ed myself in adisAgreeab'le and ridiculous situation. About this time I became acquainted with a man called Doctor Havens, possessing this appellation by courtesy, rather than by merit in the science of medicine. He put tvvo of his children under my care as an instructor. As Iiis character will appear several times in the course of this narrative, it will be necessary to give you some gen- eral sketch of this man, previous to my proceeding to par- ticulars in which he was concerned. As I have hinted, this man was very ignorant ; of a mind, by nature, sordid arid clownish in the extreme ; possessing no feelings of delicacy or propriety ; yet very ambidous of introducing- his family into the high and more refined circles of life. Being governed by no principle, he ever used such means as came in his way, to further his objects, wichout any re- ference to their quality or merit. He would appear gen- erous and hospitable to such characters as he thought v.ould promote his interests, or further his objects; but to others he appeared in the native hue of' selfish penury. You will readily conclude that a man of this cast would not be idle under circumstances of such a kind as those in which I was involved. Often I had invitations of the warmest kind to make his house my home. When I made Lini visits, I was treated with a degree of hospitality trulv j^rateful. I often found him indirectly hinting that my present situation of appai^nt poverty did not preclude my attention and success among the ladies v/ho were standing in the market for marriage, (by the way, the Doctor had tv,-o daughters in that predicament) and of inti c^ducing my- self into business, by which I could maintain a family, and support a reputation of credit anicng the people ; observ- ing with great sagacity, hov/ different matters of such a nature were in this country from what they were in En.sc- land. He gave me an invitation of commencing business in partnership with one of his sons, in the mergantile line ; r "^ t2 MEMOIRS OF observinc^ that, could T raise 5O0l. by the help of my fi-iends, he would let one cf bis sons carry on the busipiess for me for half the profits^ intimatins^ that such an offer was gen- erous on his side, as the weight of the business would lie upon his son, until 1 sisould become acquainted with the mode of doin;^ business in America. I found to my sur- prize, the most pointed enmity existing between this man and his only brother, who was his nearest neighbor, and also between the two f.imilics. I wiisby no means back- ward in munifesthig my astonishment upon the occasion ; but by the representation of the Doctor and his family, was Liven to understand that his brother Constant v/as,. of all the various works of n^.ture, the worst, the most unnatural and inhuman. This reason quieted my astonishment, but did not satisfy my feelings, iinally, the clownish blunt- iscss of the old Doctor served tp cover many vices of the mind, y.hich would have been^ suspected sooner in one possessed of politer manners. Tliis man was as avaricious for i:iformation into the sub- . :t of secret 'ustory as his namesake, the inn-keeper; but iheir motives for obtaininr:^ this informaiion were very dif- fereiit. The one sought it for the gratifxcicion of internal feelin;j;s; the ot.h.er for the opportunity df turning such a circumstance- to his advantage in adding to his property, or proiuoiing the advancement of his family. The Doc- tor had no emburrassment cf delicacy to surmount: he cameimmediately to the point, and insisted, sa/is certmo- nic^ to be initiated into the whole system cf secrecy. He was not to be turned off by a polite evasion, or an intima- tion that the matters, into M'hich he inquired, were not to. be divulged. His professions of friendship were unbound- ed ; hiB assiduities of attention were innumerable, and his feeUnes i tally appeared to be interested in my behalf. He gained my conhdcnce so far, as fully to believe that his professions were sincere, notv.'itlistanding many intima- ^ v>ns front others relating to his general character. Yet I ,. ver esletmed him as a confideniir.l friend, owing to his- \Vi»5it of w^bi lilies more than uprightness, in my vie-w. Judge Havens was anotJier chiractcr who made his ap- jarance upon the sugc of action at this time j but per- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. formed a very different part froiTi the others who iiavc been ah'eady mentioned. He was a man of science, and by no means affected with the mania of discovering^ secrets. A close application to study had produced in him a habit of appearing absent in company, unless the subject of con- versation tui-ned upon some branch of science ; then h^ became, animated and instnictive. He lived somewhat secluded from common access, ov/- m^ to his coninual perseverance in the pursuit of science. His genius was not brilliant; but his unabating industry supplied the defect. He thought with metaphysical accu- 'racy upon eveiy subject which he undertook to invesli- .ejate ; v."hich often produced too great a degree of refine- ment in his theories for the convenience of practice. He ■ as a man of delicate feelings, though not so suddenly : ioved as many others of a more volatile constitution.^ His integrity as a public character v.-as inviolate. As a private companion, he was pleasingand agreeable; and, asamem- ber of society, he was useful and beneficial. This was the pleasing side of tne portrait. The re- verse was not greatly darkened. His temper partook somewhat of the obstinate. He wis ambitious of popu- larity, and somewhat timid in pursuing those measures which might render him unpopular, hov/ever justice m.ight call for them. In some of his transactions in the field of iove, his moral rectitude had been censured by the inhab- itants of the vicinity ; and as that was a subject of too much delicacy for me to introduce to him, I never heard his . observations upon it, and therefore had but a partial idea of the matter. Thus stood the principal cliaracters with whom I wa« immediately concerned as an. instructor for their children. I pursued the business with close application ; and, ^s I flattered myself, with a degree of reputation. I had not continued long in this situatiofi, before my kind entertain- er, uncle Jim, introduced the idea of my writing for the periodical publications of the press. This subject did not find an agreeable place in my mind. I was a stranger in the place ; ignorant of the prevalent ideas of the country, their political and moral character. Moreover, (strange 24 MEMOIRS or as it may seem from my conduct) I wished to rcm:\in as little lyiown in tl.is ])ldce as possible, and therefore declined the proposal. Yet I found the old gentleman so tenacious- ly attached to the plan, that I was quite surprised ; how- ever, from the drift of his discourse upon the subject, I liad concluded that liis idea was, to appear himself as the author of the husiness, proposinc^ to copy the pieces in h.is own hand writing, previous to their going to the press, and to have the matter known only between him and me. The old gentleman, on this occasion, not only professed a great disposition for secrecy on his part, but also enjoined the like on me, in the most pointed and earnest manner. Under this view of the- matter, I consented to his pro- posal. I began my literary task under the name of the Philanthropist. I had proceeded as far as the fourth or fifth number, before any thing of note took place in conse- quence of these publications, excepting the pleasure which uncle Jim apparently enjoyed in transacting the business, under the veil of secrecy. At length, a clergyman of Southampton, taking the alarm at some sentiments here manifested, published a very spirited answer to them. A reply on my part was then unavoidable. The clergyman answered my reply, and I rejoined to his answer. By this time the attention of the public v/as excited to the contro- versy, more, than to the merit of the publications ; and they were of course anxious to know the combatants. It was known at the printing-office, that uncle Jim uniformly brought the Philanthropist for publication ; and also that the manuscripts were ever in his hand writing. These circumstances turned the eyes of the public upon him ; and he possessed the fortitude, for some time, to retain the secret ; but at length it became a burden too heavy for him to support alone. Therefore he imparted it to some of his intimate friends, who compassionately reliev- ed him from the cumber, by dissolving the charm of se- crecy, and giving the matter to the public. I now found a retreat the only place of safety ; and there- fore withdrew my lucubrations from the press ; and here ended the matter, as it related to me in the character of the Philanthropists But I had, by this time, excited the STEPHEN BURROUGHS. attention of the public, and every one v/as ready to make his o^vn comments upon u character so new ; having, by direct and indirect means, given myself a character very novel ; and my intimate friends had highly embellished the superstructure which my fancy had reared. There v.ere almost as many different opinions concerning me as there were persons to form them. But none of the vuri- gus conjectures happened to light on the identical charac- ter which I had sustained in reality, though the publica- tions from Worcester relating to my confinement, trial, and escape were among this people. I found no prospect of making an establishment for ray family on this island, the encouragement for instructing was so small ; and.as that was an object of the utmost con- sequence to me; I turned my attention to some other place. I made application for a birth, when my time should ex- pire on Shelter Island, at a number of places ; cinfl .U length found hii opening in a paiish called Bridghampton, a part of Southampton, on Long-Island. At this place I engag- ed to teach a school at the price of twelve dollars per month, without the privilege of board or any of its appen- dages. I engaged to begiii this school in tv.o weeks cTter the time cf n:y teaching the ether should expire, w4*tch time of inter n.iission 1 hi'd'deterwiiiied to appropriate to the purpose of revisiting my family, and le.;rning the op- eration of things since I h^d left them. As this time ap- proached, my unxiety to put my inte.ided visit into execu- tion increased lo sueJi a dc.^!;ree as to depi ivc m.e of sleep. I lived, at this time, in the family of Judge Havens. I endeavored to enter into his chanicter and disposition ; and to penetrate the governing principles by which he was ac- tuated. After I had satisfied my mind upon these heads, I determined to lay open to his view the whole of my sit- uation, and consult him upon that line of conduct which he should think adviseable, in order to answer the ol)ject V Fiich lay so near my heart. I had fixed upon the time, in my own mind, lo unfold this circumstance. I came prepared from school at the intended time to put in force this resolution. But while I walked leisurely from the school-house to my lodgings, which Avas about one hiui- 26 Memoirs of dredrods, it occurred to my mind into what a disagreeable situation I had once been involved by communicating such a secixt ; how possible, and even how probable it was I might be deceived in my expectations from Judge Havens, notwithstanding my favorable predictions towards him ; how often I had been egregiously deceived by the con- duct of certain characters when the prospects of life were changed ; how he must be surpnsed at coming to the knowledge of real facts relating to me. Under this vie '^r of the matter, I shrunk back from the scene, r.nd durst not proceed. I concluded still io let matters of this khid lie in a state of secrecy, until I had been back to Charlton, ftnd learned the feelings and sentiments of mankind con- cerning me. My timeof enagagement was alinost expired. I soon, expected to rccross the Sound, and measure back my for- mer steps to Charlton. This last part of my time seem- ed to move with leaden feet. I had not heard from my family, connexions, or acquaintance, since 1 left them. I Imd not written to them, nor fiiid I dared to inquire after tliem, or any of the inhabitants living in that part of the world. Therefore my desire to gee them was beyond the i)ower of language to express. At this moment, when my wishes Avere abnost gratified ; when the object of my most earnest desire was almost vvithin my power, I was suddenly taken sick with the remitting fever. This stroke was too much for my utmost fortitude to endure. I sunk under it. I felt the weakness of a child. It struck me in a part which I was not prepared to defend. I could not bear the thought of submitting to a fit of sick- ness at the present juncture ; but sad necessity taught me that I must endure what I could not avert. My fond prob- pects were blasted ; the painted vision of enjoyment fled from my vievv-. The little money which I had, with so much perseverance, scraped together for my small ex- cursion into the country, was likely to be all swallowed \rp by the expenses of sickness, v.hich must eventually pre- clude die possibility of my returning to my family. These circumstances, which foreboded the most dismal pros- ])ccts, left but little consolation to my feelings. The fe- ver and melancholy made rapid havcck of my constitution. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 27 Under these circumstances, Doctor Havens made me the offer of quarters and attendance at his house, until my recovery. I accepted his offer, and was removed to his house accordinj^ly. As I had ever been averse to loading the stomach Avith medicine incases of sickness, I now pur- sued the same course, and invariably adhered to my old maxim, of *' giving nature her way," until the ninth day, when, by the help of a generous constitution, the fever formed a crisis, nature predominated, and the disorder abated. Doctor Havens was willing to give himself airs of consequence from this speedy decision in my favor, al- though lie had only given me two potions of the cortex Pe- ru, and that after the fever had abated. I was so far re- covered as to set out on my intended journey on the twelfth day of my sickness, much against the advice of Doctor Havens. Before my departure, I called upon the Doctor for my bill for board, attendance, &c. ; his answer was to the following effect, (viz.) that as twenty shillings was due to me from him for schooling his children, and as he ex- pected to send thera to me again, at Bridghampton, and to receive special attention to them at all leisure hours, he would rest the discharge of my bill upon that ground. I acquiesced with his proposal, under an apprehension of his having his full due ; the price of boarding, washing and lodging being eight shillings per week ; and as I was at the Doctor's two weeks only, and my situation such as not to cause a great degree of special trouble, I considered the addition of eight shillings more per week to be a full compensation for my receipts. Therefore, as his bill un- der this settlement would amount to thirt}-two shillings, there Vvould remain a balance of twelve shillings in his fa- vor, which he expected, and did receive by my extra at- tention to his children afterwards. I was somewhat disappointed when I called upon the Doctor for a settlement. By the course of his conversa- tion, when I came to his house, he clearly intimated that he would make me welcome to the favor. And moreover, his abundant professions of friendly attention were suffici- ent to induce me to expect that he would not demand pay for my boarding, &sC. j considering -my peculiar situation. 28 MEMOIRS OF (he being a man himself in easy circumstances) and the particular and pointed declarations of friendly assistance which he had made, almost at every time I had seen him during my residence on the island. However, I esteem- ed his demand no more than strictly just, and considered his calculations to befriend me, opert»ting in some other channel, to which I had not yet been introduced. • The time had now expired in which I was to begin my school ut Bridghampton. However, I could not recon- cile my mind to the idea of relinouishing my visit to my family ; and accordingly sent oirword that sickness had disenabled me from opening my school so soon, by a fort- night, as my engagement had speciiied. Under these cir- cumstances I entered on board the bout to recross the Sound to New-London, having given the pebple to un- derstand that I had heard oT'a certain /)vm^ of mine be- ing son-ie where in the state of Mussachusetts, to whom it "was veiy necessary for me to make a visit. I was entrusted with some letters to a gentleman in New-London ; and immediately after my arrival in the city, it being five o'clock, P. M. the same day, I set about discharging the trust by delivering the letters. When I arrived in New-London, I felt fearful of being known, and wished to be seen as little as possible. The reason of this desire was of the following nature, viz. being in doubt of the operation which a knowledge of my real character would have upon the feelings of the people where I had engaged to teach a school ; and like- Y/ise ignorant of the representations the public would ir^ake on that head ; I did not wish yet to put the matter to a trial, until I should have further opportunity to estab- lish myself in the place. There were people with me from Long-Island, and therefore should I be recognized by any in New-London, it would devclope the business immediately to those who were with me, and the knowl- edge of this matter would reach Bridghampton previous to my return. Thus stood matters in New-London. I had determin- ed to deliver the letters and immediately leave the town. I accordingly set out for the house of General Hunting- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. %9 ton, the gentleman to Avhom the letter was directed, ir* company with one of those who came with mc from Long- Island. This companion I wished handsomely to drop, but found myself unable. As 1 was walking through the street, I observed a number of gentlemen standing toge- ther, and observing me with attention. I immedi;.tely concluded that I was discovered and known. However, 1 v.alked by without appearing to ]]Otice them ; when I hcctrd one of them uttering with an emphasis, " By G — d it is Burroughs." This satisfied me as to the truth of my first conjecture. I wisi-^ed, more and more, rny compan^- ion gone ; but to no purpose : he stiil remained with mc in spite of all my efforts to the contrary. 1 found that those who had observed m.e with so much attention, were following after mc, and continued at but a short distance, until I came to the house of General Hun- tington. When I went into this house, they made a stand in the street before the door, uniil I came out ; when they immediateiy came up to me, and, in the hmguage of friendship, iiiquired after my health. I was agreeably sur- prised to find two of my college class-mates among the number, who were practising attornies, attending the Su- preme Court sitting in New-London. When they accosted me by my name, I gave them to understand they were mistaken. The greater p irt un- derstood the reply, and went away as though satisfied with l^elng convinced of their mistake ; yet one, by the name of Bulkley, one of the before mentioned college class- mates, remained firm to his integriiy, and declared that jje fcneiu it to be me : " that he thought it to be mc before he heard me speak ; but since then was entirely certain." At this moment, there was passing by a man by the name of Hyde, a new made Justice of the Peace, belonging to Norwich, who being led into the subject by Bulkley, man- ifested an ardent desire of convincing the world how^ prompt he was in the execution of his peace-ofiice. He called for assistance, laid hold of me by their help, and conveyed me to the Attorney-General, Mr. Coit. My companion from Long-Island was terrified at seeing all this ; and learning nothing more th«m that I had changed VOL. II. D 30 MEMOIRS OF my name, he came up to me with a woful aspect on hi3 countenance, and said, " A'nt you sorry you changed your name ?" The others who had first accosted me, and more par- ticularly, William Hart, my college acquaintance, con- cluding where Hyde and his gang were conveying m.e, hastened to the Attorney-General before we arrived, in ■^ime sufficient to give him a just statement of the matter. When we arrived at the house of Mr. Coit, I found a large gathering Already there. I had now given myself over as lost. I concluded that my detention and reconveyance back to Worcester, were quite certain. The extreme state of weakness to which I was reduced by sickness ren- dered the prospect of escape hopeless. I saw the rigor of my confinement increased, and the severity of my punish- ment by no means diminished. I saw another series of cruel sufferings before me, of which I could not even con- jecture an end. Hyde exulted much in the part he had acted, concluding, as I readily understood, from his con- versation, that he had done himself immortal honor. He took the utmost pains to exhibit me to the view of the sur- lounding spectators as a monster of iniquity, and as a dev- il incarnate, in order to enhance his own merit in the act of confining me from society. He told many anecdotes reLting to me ; of my stealing horses, committing rapes, &c £cc. With all, he wound up, with an anecdote of his own experience "When I was riding through the state of New-Hampshire, some years since," said Hyde, " I saw a man standing in his door at Charlestown, who took me to be Burroughs.* I was on a very fine horse, and the man c.Jled out to me, Burroughs, where did you get that horse ? I made no answer, but rode on ; when the man called uL',ain, Damn you Burroughs, if you do not stop, I viii siop you! But continuing still to ride on, the man ran after me, and overtook me ; when I turned about, and de- manded what he wanted. The man, by this, discovering his mistake, begged my pardon, observing, I thought it •vras one Burroughs, a great horse thief; and 1 have no no- * jlisquu'e Hyde was about 5 feet 8 inches high. STEPHEN BURROUGHS 31 uon of being stopped as I ride the country on such a fel- low's account." After Hyde had ended his harrangue, the Attorney- General demanded if my name was Burroughs. I told him it was. He enquired further if I had been confined in Worcester jail, and from thence had made my escape. ^ly answer was in the affirmative. He then demanded where I had been since ; what doing, where going, &c. To which I gave him a simple statement of the truth. He then made a reply which will leave a grateful monu- ment of esteem in my mind, so long as his name is retain- ed in my powers of recollection. " Mr. Burroughs, we in Connecticut feel ourselves interested in the fate of eve- ry man, and wish him to be happy in promoting his own good, combined with that of society ; and where we find him making that his object, we wish to assist him for- ward, rather than throw any obstacle in his pursuit. As this appears to have been your object for the summer past, and as you are still inclined to pursue it, it is my duty to encourage such a pursuit, and not hinder it ; therefore you may consider yourself at liberty to depart. I have heard your history. I have been made acquainted with your trials at Worcester. I have wished, and still y/ish you a happier lot." At this instant I felt the weight of a mountain removed from my mind. All the horrid prospects of confinement, punishment, &c. immediately vanished. The sunsliine of hope burst with full splendor upon my soul, and filled me with so great a measure of joy, that, in m.y debilitated situation, it almost overpowered my strength ; and, with difficulty, I prevented myself from fainting. Indeed, sir, it was a state of enjoyment so great as to render it truly paitiful. The prospect flashed on my mind the idea of aguin enjoying my fi.mily, connexions and societv ; and the possibility of maintt ining them, by my industry, with- out danger of being interrupted. I retuHiCd to Mr. Coit my warmest acknowledgments of gratitude for his humanity. Yet my tongue did not utter the thousandth part of what my heart dictated. I WIS overcome. A universal tremor shook my frame; 52 MEMOIRS OF and I was glad of a momeni's ease by retiring, and hiding my feelings in my own bosom. When I had left Mr. Colt, and arrived at the Coffee-house for lodgings over night, I found there my Long-Island companion, who, finding me liberated from confinement, began to think that changing one's name was not so flagrant a violation of the laws of Connecticut as he had, at first, apprehended. I stated to him my desire that he would not, on his return, malce any mention of the occurrence, or that he knew any thing relating to my possessing another name. He prom- ised a compliiince,,and much to my surprise, kept the se- cret inviolate. Early next morning, I went on board a packet-boat go- ing up the river, tts fdr as the little city of Norwich, four- teen miles directly on my way to Charlton, where we ar- rived about noon. After our amval, I immediately set- out on foot, and reached fourteen miles further that after- noon. I put up at a house where the people were strung- el's, v^s ! then ccnceivedj in the town of C-iiuerbury. Dur- ing the course of the evening, by some conversation that passed in the family, I began to conjecture that I w^as in the house of an old acGUiiintcince of my father. Previous jo my retiring to pedj ^h^manyf ^h? Jipys^ Qam? .liOnxe, wiio WaS Owtore absent; and I readily recognized the countenance of Doctor Knight, although I had not seen him siiice I was of the age of seveD, being about the space Oi" twenty years. The Doctor conducted me to the bed where I was to s,lcep, and I embi^ced that oppoitunily to discover my- self to him, hoping to gain some intelligence which might be of consequence, either rck.ting to my family, or the pubjic opinions and measures which had i^een taken since I left tlve 'vountry. 1 was, however, unsuccessful in my cbject, not gaining any intelligence upon either of those piinlM. I arose e^irly next morning, i.nd departed, after bcinK nvddG welcom.e, by the Doctor, to my lodging. I found a fever perpetually hanging about me, and the worry of travelling constantly increasing it. But my feel- ings were so much interested in pursuing my journey, thatn^v judgment had lost its force ; and I travelled with STEPHEN BURROUGHS. o^ an unabating* diligence, until midnight, when, to my no small satisfciciion, I arrived to the abode of my family. This scene I shall never presume to describe. Your own fruitful imagination Avill do more justice to the subject than is possible for the power of knguage to perform. I tarried here two days, and found my health constantly declining. I began to grow alarmed, under an apprehen- sion that I mi'^-ht have a severe confinement by sickness in this place, and Ly that means, be discovered, and com- mitted to Worcester jail. Therefore I procured a friend to carry me on horseback, into the state of Connecticut, where we arrived about midnight, at the house of a distant relation in the town of Tiiompson. Here I tarried until the close of the next evening, and then began my journey again on foot. However, I found my weakness sa great, I could not proceed more than two miles that night. I'stop- ped at a house about 9 o'clock in the evening, and went to bedimmedi-itely ; but found little rest through the night. A fit of the fever and ague came on me ; and after that the sweat poured from every part of my body in the most co- pious effusion. In the morning 1 was scarcely able to rise from my bed. However, I dressed myself, and after procuring horses, I ap:ain set off for Piainfield, about twelve miles distant, in order to take the stap:e from thence to Norwich. I arrived here about noon, but so very weak th 't I was under tlwe necessity of going immediately to .bed. Indeed my disbrder began to increase so rapixlly, that I pretty much despaired of -returning to Long-Island for the present, and concluded that I must be conni ed by a fit of sickness. A fit of the fever and ague came on me again, and after that the copious discharge of sweat. I felt more at ease when the sweat had ceased, but by no means strengthened. However, I determined to set for- ward again at the arrival of the stage. "* About 4 o'clock in the afternoon I took a seat in the stage, and set off for Norwich. I found in the stage a gen- tleman of the law from Boston, tra\e!ling to the west. Af- ter some introductory conversation, I was satisfied that I was not recognized by him, although we had formerly knpwa each other. After I was satisfied in this respect, D 2 34 jMemoirs of T gradu::IIy introduced, as ihoug-h by accitlcnl, the topic of conversation wLich lay near my heart (viz.) the sin.^ular trial of one Burroughs, at the sitting of the Supreme Court lit Worcester in their April term. I manifested some surprise at the conducting this trial by the court, if I had been rightly informed into the matter. He allowed my information to be correct, but defended their conduct bv the sin;;ulhrity of the character they had to deal with. His ideas upon that subject were of the following nature, a iz. '' Thh Burroughs was, of all characters you ever heard, mention mrde, the most singular. He has led a course of the most barefaced and hori-id crimes of any man linnp;, uv^n from his childhood^ to buch a degree, that his own fdther luis desired tl^.e courts to shew him no favor, and ^»ishes, for the good of society, to have him confined per* petually, as tlie only possible means to prevent that course of horrid transgressions which he has perpetrated ever since he has been capable of acting. After an innumera- ble tri,in of iiistances in which he was guilty of stealing, counterfeiting, robbing, adultery, 8cc. &c. he was appre- hended^and sent on to the Cusllc. In this situation, as ihough confinement had made him ten-fold worse than formerly, he often threvv' the whole garrison into a stute of alarm ; burnt the buildings ; wounded the soldiers, some, it was supposed mortally; and fioally made liis escape. After his escape, no property was secure from his grasp ; no virtue was proof against his v.iles, even to such a meas- ure that he became a general nuisance to society ; and the country arose in its own defence and confined him iii juil. *' Such a character you will not wonder was very ob- noxious to the court, and they found it necesary to take the most decided measures to bring him to justice; for even under this loud of infamy, he bcid planned his mat- ters with that address and dexterity, by means of the tes- timony of his accomplices, th it", with the utmost difficulty, the court obtained his condemnation. After that they de- termined to lay a sentence upon him that should keep him tonfir.ed ior o long time ; but in v-in. He soon made his escape, ana is now aciiiig the Sw-me sceney of excess ovev STEPHEN BURROUGHS. :' attain. Finally, you c&nnot enter into the merits of this trial, so as to understand it thoroughly, unless you should become really acquainted >vith the villain ; then you •would be sensible that too great exertions could not be made against him." The can iage at this moment broke down ; and all the passengers were under a necessity of halting, unul anoth- er was brought to take them up. Under this situation, 'SViliiam Hart, Esq. came riding up, and saluted me by the name of "• Burroughs." Aghast and astonished, the poor lawyer rolled his eyeballs in wild dismay. The ap- p::rition of Macbeth's Ghost would not have been so ter- rible to this son of the long robe, as the sight of that iden- tical man, whose picture i.-c had so pleasir.gly drawn. " Pie believed he could walk to Norwich much easier than wait for the carriage." He made his obeisance to the compa- ny, and marched off. As low as my spirits had been re- duced by the gloomy prospects presented by m.y increas- ing sickness, I felt them exhilirbited by this curious cir- cumstance. I laughed aloud, which conveyed the sensa- tions of my heart to this knight of romance ; but he did not tarry for any further explanation. He pursued his course with diligence, and was soon out of sight. We were directly reseated in another carriage, and drove on with speed ; but did not overtake our lawyer. He had either stopped by the way, or made greater progress on foot than is common for men who arc not impelled by extraordinary motives. The stage set me dowTi at Norwich -Lai:iding, and con- tinued its route to the town. This night I found the fits of fever and ague increasing, and my strength continually abating. The next morning it was with difficulty I reach- ed th« boat bound to Nev,-London, where we arrived about two o'clock, P. M. I here found that I could not proceed any further, but must submit to the force of sickness, and lie bv until I should be better able to move. 36 MEMOIRS OF CHAP. III. J_ WILL here leave the course of my journey, and go back a little, to take notice of some circumstances neces- sary to be noted in order for you to entertain a clear idea of my present prospects, and future hopes. As the ob- ject of making provision for my family was the prevailinf^ wish of my heart, I had nattered myself that the salary which I should receive for the school would be sufficient, with close economy, to support us, in some small state of comfort. Under this view I had proposed the plan of moving my family to Long-Island ; but, previous to such a measure, my wife's father kad agreed to make me a vis- it, to view my prospects, and then determine whether prudence Avould allow of such an attempt. As the mon- ey which I was to receive for the school was the only de- pendence which I had, I felt not very sanguine in my hopes at this time, because, as long as I should remain sick and unable to teach the school, I was earning no money ; and was, moreover, involving myself in debts which most be discharged with the first money I could raise from my labors. My sickness would" probably pre- vent my keeping the school where I had engaged, as the proprietors wished to have it opened, at furthest, by that time, and I had presumed already to overrun it by a fort- night. -I was confined, by sickness, about a week in New-Lon- don, before I found myself recruited in any measure. As I felt extremely anxious to gain intelligence relating to the school in Bridghampton, a matter on which much depended in my then present situation, I once more at- tempted to cross the Sound. I found the motion of the boat very irksome ; and before I had reached the Long- Island side, I was again attacked M'ith a severe visit of the fever and ague, attended with the most violent efi'usions of sweat immedititely succeeding. After 1 had again arriv- ed at Sag-Harbor, I betook myself to bed, and after the space of five or six hours found myself so far recruited as to be able to ride to Bridghampton. When I arrived at this place, I found they hud engaged another instructor STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 3^ dc^spairing of my return, and he had appointed the day for opening the school. This circumstance was a matter of great disappoint- ment, inasmuch as I could not proceed further for want of money or health. I represented my situation of distress to the person, Johnson by name, who had engaged the school, with some hope that he would relinquish his ap- pointment, and look for another situation ; but all to no purpose. He remained steadfast in his resolution, and till entreaties were ineffectual. I now concluded my la. bors were at an end ; that I had nothing left but to wait l^atiently the time of my exit from these continued scenes of wo. " Xor dreadful tlie transition ; though the mindj An artist at creatine seif-alai-ms, Rich in expedients for inquietude, Is prone to paint it di-eatlful. Who can take Death's portrait true ? The t\Tant never sat. Cur sketch all random strokes, conjecture all ; Close shuts the grave, nor tells one single U.\e. Death, and his ima^, rising in the brain, Bear faint resemblance ; never are alike ; Fear shocks the pencil ; fancy loves excess Dark ignorance is lavish of her shades ; Anil tlir.^^ tlii^r.i.'iviiJi^ble. nl.j.vur.^ *.l'hW^.'* In this situ.ition I lay two days, unable to rise from my bed. I found the people in this place desirous of my in- structing their school, if they could by any means get rid of their engagement with Johnson. They had formed a favorable idea of my performance in that line by the char- acter I had sustained in that cap..city on Shelter-Island, the phce being only five miles distant, and Johnson being jt totul stranger in the country. Therefore the people of tins district sent to arjother part of the town, who wei e destituie, and wanted a schoolmaster, informing them that one was to be had by applying immediately, and mention- ed Johnson as the person. It was likewise mentioned to him that application would be made from another part of the town, ivhere the presumption was much stronger in his favor for high wages, £cc. Johnson eagerly swallowed this L^it, and accepted tlie invitation immediately after it 38 MEMOIRS OF was given. The committee who were appointed for this purpose, learning, however, that there Avas another person present, who was a candidate for a schoolmaster, and who they found, was to teach the school in the middle district, provided they could get Johnson off their hands, began to query about the proprietv of having the choice themselves rather than the middle district, seeing Johnson was al- ready engagad. This motion, I found, by no means com- porting with the feelings of Johnson, or the people of the middle district. He wished to take the wc-stern school, and the people of the middle district wished the same-. This produced a warm altercation between the two com- mittees ; but they finally agreed upon me as the person to decide the contest ; and I chose to abide where I was. Tliis accordingly settled the dispute. What influenced my choice was. the solicitation of Johnson, who was now as anxious to leave this situation, as I was the day before to have him. In a few days, I was so far recovered as to begin my scliool. My health, however, was so low as obliged me frequently to lay it by, sometimes for the space of half a day, and sometimes for a whole day. As this was a stage \i}.on wliicli sor«;e- &f- tluj n:;ci:t surprising transactions were performed of any I have met with, it v.ill be neces- sary to give you an idea of the leading churacters of this have him. And I will begin v.irh a person that will appear most frequently, and who perfornjed the most conspicuous part in those matters pa'-ticularly relating to me, viz. Rev. Aa- ron Woohvorth. Ho was a clergyman, settled in the ministoiul olTice at Bridghampton, and who resided near me, during my continuance in this place. This man wi,s about the i.ge of eight and twenty; had been the preaclier to this people about six years ; had a wife and three chil- dren. His v.ife was the daughter of the aged and vener- bie Doctor EucI, minister of East-Hampton, a town ad- joiniuf^:; and was, like her father, a person of a good nat- ural disposition, although possessing moderat« abilities. Mr. Woohvorth was of small stature, diniir.utive in his iippearancc, his fe:Uures somewhat irregular, but his STEPHEN BURROUGHS, 39 countenance displaying a great share of vivacity and spir- it. His voice in conversation and in preaching was harsh and unharmonious. His gestures and deportment, at first view, were somewhat awkward and clumsy; but beyond this veil was soon discovered a pleasing companion, and interesdng associate. His genius was brilliant ; his mind was active and full of enterprise. As a reasoner, he was close and metaphysical, but as a declaimer, he was bung- ling and weak. His passion for an unlimited influence over the minds of his parishioners was so great, that every other feeling fell a sacrifice to it. Any circumstance that obstructed this favorite motive he sought to remove, be the consequences what they might. He was impatient^ of contradiction, and easily irritated. He had a thirst for associating with such characters as were rich, or who even made a splendid appearance ; hence his intimate as- sociates were the following characters, viz. Deacon Hed- ges, a man of extensive property, of small abilities, either natural or acquired ; the whole of his information being 'comprised in his own circle of properly. This man was avaricious in the extrelne, sordid and clownish. \^et no man made more flaming pretensions to the exercises of religion them lie. He ever took the lead in public worship in the absence of the clergyman. One would draw the idea from his prayers, that he really was but a sojourner in this world, seeking for another and better country ; and that he viewed all things in it as dross and dung. Yet to see the same man, on another day, one would be led to conclude that this world was his god, and its goods his in- heritance. I will relate one or two anecdotes concerning this man, and pass from the disagreeable picture. At a certain time, a man from New-York had bargain- ed for all the cheese belonging to Deacon Hedges, at the price of six pence the pound, and had paid him some earn- est money, but had not taken the cheese away. A few days after, another man, on the same business, called on the Deacon, and off'ered him seven pence per pound. The Deacon seemed somewhat embarrassed, and to hesitate ; but finally told the man that his cheese was all engaged. Upon which the man was retiring, but the Deacon observ- 40 MEMOIRS OF ed, before he had left the house, that it was possible Mrs. Hedges might have some cheese for sale. The man stopped, and the Deacon went into another room, where he remained some time ; and at length Mrs. Hedges made her appearance, and sold three thousand weight of cheese for seven pence per pound ; and when the other man call- ed for his cheese, the Deacon had but two hundred and fifty weight that he could possibly spare. At a certain time the Deacon was sick, and apparently nigh unto death. Under this situation he was visited by a Jew, who bore him no very great affection ; and was ask- ed whether he felt himself willing to submit to the stroke of death. To which the Deacon very readily answered in the affirmative. " Vel, vel,'' said the Jew, " you be one very remarkable man. You be villing to die your- self, and all your neighbors be viliing you should." Judge Hurlbut occupied the second place in Mr. Wool- worth's esteem. This man likewise wl-.s a person of very moderate abilities, full of religious professions, but not sO' careful to commend himself to the consciences of others for his honesty, us many who made no cloak of religion to cover a base heart. Sometime in the course of last war, he was appointed an agent for the crew of a privateer sailing out of New- London, to sell the prizes, divide the money. Sec. This circumstance placed property in his hands to considerable amount. At the close of the war, he left New-London, came to Long-Island, purchased a farm, erected hand- some buildings, and lived in a state of splendor for a while. But after I had lived on the isbnd for the space of two years, the ov.ners of the privateer began to lay claim to the property he had made use of, belonging to them ; and he was obliged to relinquish his farm, building?^, ^c. and retire into obscurity, to support himself by the exercise of his trade, being educated a saddler. With all this h^ did not by any means discharge his debts. Capt. Post was the third man who made his appearance in this group. He had commanded a privateer during the war ; but had not been very successful in his enterpiises, owing to an extraordinary degree of caution not to be STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 11 drawn into an ambuscade by any vessel he might chance to spy during^ his cruising. Towards his own men he was courageous in the extreme, if tyranny and barbarity are marks of courage. Towards the enemy his heroism was not so clearly established, owing to his great caution not to be thrown into the way of its being put to the trial. How- ever, some small prizes fell into his hands ; and it was cur- rently reported that, at least, his own share of these prizes came to his possession, besides some small donations from the private property of the officers who fell under his power. At the close of the war, he found himself able to pur- chase, in company with two others, a brig of about 1 50 tons burden, in which he followed the West-India trade. It happened surprisingly, that in every voyage, he involved his owners in debt, but grew rich himself. This scene continued until one, more wary than the other, gave up the use of his part of the brig, and refused to assist in fitting her out any more. Notwithstanding, the other owner con- tinued his aid, until he became bankrupt ; and Capt. Post yet remained possessed of a considerable farm, and the most elegant buildings of any in the country. The brig was then sold, and the avails divided among the several o\vners. Capt. Post descended from parentage extreme- ly low and poor ; accordingly his education was rough and uncouth. Yet he possessed a strong desire to be thought a man of information and importance. This frequently led him to tell large, pompous stories, of which himself was ever the hero. He was a great swaggerer over those whom he found calculated to bear it ; but to others he was supple, cringing, and mean. A man using the most rough, uncouth, and blasphemous language before those whose good opinion he did not wish to retain. Surprising as it may seem, thch;e three were the most intimate companions with whom Mr. Woolworth perpe- tually associated ; which you will consider as being no very strong mark of his prudence, let his taste be ever so vi- tiated, or assimilated to such company. Having complet- ed the picture of the four principal characters, it will be only necessary to give a slight sketch of a few others, VOL. II. E 4^ MEMOIRS OF Doctor Rose, who kept a house of entertainment, was better fitted, by nature and acquirement, for a printer, than either for a physician or tavern-keeper ; being; the best calculated to gather and distribute neivs of any man I ev- er knew. He was a man of very superficial aljilities in his professional character ; a professed friend to every one, but sincere to none ; versatile and unstable in his disposi- tion, and a libertine in practice. Ellas Halsey, one amongst many of the same name, was u person descended from a family in moderate circum- • t.mces, who pursued a system of industry and economy, iiereby obtaining a comfortable support. His education .as not great ; and his opportunities for learning men and -anners were small : notwithstanding which, he had a cuius which v,\;s brilliant, and a great thirst for informa- .■on. He was a person of keen feelings, hasty passions, ..ud a good heart. The turbulence of his passions often .ed him astray in the exercise of his goodness. He failed in system, c>.nd of course, was not always stable. De&con Cook was the leading character of a small soci- ety in this place, denominated Separates. Betw een these two societies there was the greatest animosity ; and as Deacon Cook was the principal member of the Separates, the other party blackened his character with the vilest ep- ithets that language could utter. He was an old gentle- man, treadin^-^ hard upon eighty. Time had brightened l)is locks with pure silver ; but his age was no protection from the tongue of slander. As the line of his conduct Avhich was open to my view, gave me a far different idea of his character, so the facts to be related hereafter will form data lor your opinion in relation to the same matter. The character of the people in this place was of the follov.ing description, viz. uniform, contracted, and unin- formed. Economy was practised here, upon the closest svstem, by far, of any with which I was ever acquainted. Necessity, in a measure, produced this effect. The peo- ple wore so extremely attached to their own modes c^nd customs, that it produced a fonrucss- for their own socie- ty una disrelish to other customs, oeyond paralle! ; hence emigration from their internal population was less frc- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 4:. qiient here, than in places elscu' here. Therefore the country had become populous, and the soil so eyhuustedas not to be luxurir.nt. The land was pjenerally divided into bmuU parcels amongst the proprietors, from ibriy to ten acres. Under these circumstances, rather than emigrate iato those parts where land was in greater plenty, they contented themselves with living close, poor, an-l careful. Notwithstanding, they were a people under thriving cir- cumstances, every one living wiii.in his income, be it ever so small ; and their poor-tax Wc*s the smallest, for so pop- ulous a place, of any on the continent. Could useful man- ufactories be introduced, and three quarters of the inhabi- tants turn their attention to them, retaining their industry and economy, I do not know the place where they could be made more profitable, as labor and provisions are ex- tremely cheap for cash. The means for acquiring proper- ty here are few, and very simple ; no mechanical brunches being pursued, but barely to answer the necessities of the inhabitants, such as shoe-making, tailoring, and blvtci^- smithing ; all other pursuits being common hand labor. This people are at the lowest ebb in their improve- ments, either in agriculture, manufacture, or domestic economy. They are the genuine picture of ancient times, when their land was first settled by its whiie iiihabitants. Tliesc eifects are produced, in a great degree, by their in- sular situation. . . ' Among these people I was about beginning my career again upon the active stage of life ; and to establish a line of bushiess which should render me a support for myself and family. I accordingly commenced my operations un- der such circumstances us will better appear to you from what I have related, than by what I can, by any other means, describe. I had not, at best, any gUaing prospect of ac- cumulating an hidependent property. After I had pursued the business of instruciinn- this school about three weeks, my wife's father, according to ifeieement, came to Bridghampton. My school at this time was crowded with scholars, and the prospects v/ere fair ; yet my name and character were veiled in secvecy, and what would be the event of the disclosure of tlui.i....- ii MEMOIRS OF ter was still a doubt ; and to remove my family to Bridg- hampton must, in its natural effect, finally reveal it. Therefore it was thought best for my father-in-law to lay open this circumstance, together with my general histo- ry, to the people, in order to see its operation, previous to my family'^s coming to me. Accordingly we pitched up- on Mr. Woolv/orth as a proper person to whom we should unfold thii matter, and consult him further what was to be done. Wc accordingly waited on Mr. WooIvYorth, to whom I introduced my father, and left them together. I tanied away about t\vo hours, and then returned ; and found that the whole matter had been laid open, to which Mr. Wool- v/orth had given a favorable ear ; and promised his assis- hince during the time I should choose to remain among his people. His influence, I knew, was weighty, and woiild be of the utmost consequence. It was thought best to cati a meeting of the proprietors of the school that evening, and for Mr. Woolworth to be present, and la 7 open the Avhole matter to them. This plan was accord- ingly put into execution, and the most favorable conse- quences apparently produced. However, I found that the world was in a state of fer- ment, at the recital of tliis strange news. The people on Shelter-Island had found themselves throwp out in all their conjectures. Uncle Jim was abashed ; Doctor Havens was confounded. Judge Havens was the only man who appeared unmoved in the general tumult. A letter I re- ceived a few days after will give you a better idea of the matter, than any thing else.* This was a fine subject foy jXov. 14th, 1791. *SlH, I have thought that it would not be uninteresting or disagreeable to you to receive some account of a remarkable event which hath happened here since yoa left us. You must know tliat, not long since, a remarkable phenomenon appeared within our hemisphere. But this was not any thing which was to be seen in the starry heav- ens ; but was confined altogether to our mother earth, and partook of the moral world as well as tiie natural ,• and was conveyed to us by water; and might properly be designated by the term charac- ter i the particulars of which I will detail to you.. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 45 the relish of Doctor Rose. He had full employ for a number of days, and actually grew fleshy under the pleuh- in,^ effect. People flocked to his house for information. He was the son of a clergyman of reputation, and bom in Leaden- hall-street in London ; and received his education in the London schools, where he was taug-ht Latin, Enghsh £;rammar, aritliir.etic, and various other br?.nches of science ; was patronised by Mr. , a gentleman of gi'cat distinction in that city, and who represented the city in Parliament ; and had lived six yeai-s in a compting--house, with merchants who carried on the Russia trade ; and at some time in the late American war, his worthy triend and patron, Mr. , had entered into tlie laudable scheme of attempting, in some de- gree, to emancipate the Irish, and relieve them from the iiitolera- ble burden of the British yoke ; and, to effect this purpose, had written a pamphlet, enti'ded, " The political necromancer, or the popish plot detected," which he, the above mentioned character, had copied off in his o>^'n hand writing-, and had privately caused fifty thousand copies of it to be printed and dispersed all over Ire- land ; which had, m a ^eat measure, the desired effect. The Irish were roused, and the English obliged to mrike concessions. This conduct had greatly incensed the British ministry. The pamphlet wr.s deemed a libel ; and the author of it, when discovered, v.'as sure to suffer the utmost vengeance of the British government. For a long time this remained undiscovered, but was at last disclosed by a journeyman printer ; and our character was obliged suddenly to leave his nearest and dearest connexions, and take refuge in a. foreign country, to save his worthy triend and patron. Chance throwed him in the way of his friend Capt. , who brought him out to Nova-Scotia, where a thousand guineas reward V\-ere offered for him by the governor. But his irieud provided means to eonvey him privately by water into tlie American lines. Here he suffered a dismal disaster ; for the Captain who was desired to do this, be- haved like a villain, and robbed him of his chest, in which were all his clothes and money, and in particular some bills of exchange on a noted house in Baltimore ; and then sat him on shore, forlorn and destitute; and, to add to his afflictions, he was obliged, the ensu- suing night, to walk thirty miles tlirough mud and mire barefoot- ed, and in a dreary dismal way, to avoid a horrid plot whicii had been laid to entrap him. He was convt} ed from thence by a friend- ly Captain, to Riiode-Island, and had now taken slielter in our Isle, a.nd wished our protection and friendship. To some of his more intimate ti-iends, he hinted that he had left Ixhind him in Eiigland, a connexion of the tenderest kind, a young lady of the mcst amiible qualities and exalted virtues, with v.iiom he v, as on the eve of a marriage. To this account I will add some description of his per- son. He was tall, handsome, genteel and agreeable in conversation tiid maimers ; appeared to be a rnan of leading and extensive inibr- 46 MEMOIRS OF He was never weary in statincj in order, in opening and expounding, the whole of the news on this extraordin:iry circumstance. Notwithstanding my school flourished, and all thirif^-s seemed to subside into a peaceful calm. mution ; was well acquainted with the world ; and the natural en- dowment of his mind appeared to be such as might render him an ornament to the country in which he lived, and a useful citizen. To the public he appeared in the double capacity of die Philanthropist ^ calling- upon all mankind " to co-operate with him," in the estab- lishment of the principle of universal benevcsience, on the ruins of superstition; and of an Obsen-er, to support his works ag-ainst the rude assaults of criticism. Various was the opinion of the public concerning- this character ; some supposed it not at all founded in truth. All seemed to entertain suspicion. For my own part, I reasoned on the subject to myself, and said, "It cannot surely be possible that so many natural endowments should be wholly desti- tute of the moral sense ; but perhaps the truth may be, that he is some person of our countr}'', who hath been to Eng'land, and hala left it suddenly on account of some swindlin.^ trick." But in the midst of this variety of speculations upon a character so new and. extraordinary, how sudden and surprising- the change ! Fame open- ed one of the doors of her temple, and from the north-eastei'n cor- ner of our hemisphere, blasted upon him with her trumpet, and sud- denly this plessing- character "vanished like the baseless fabric of a vision," and in its room was exhibited another of the most hide- ous kind ! A thou.sand rumors floated upon a thousand tongues, and e\ery one of these v/as infamy ! He had committed a rape ! had counterfeited money! was a notorious cheat; was a liar; was a rascal ; v/as a villain ! had committed theft ; had stolen a watch and suit of clo'.hes from a clergyman ; had dared to assume the sa- cred function wlien he was unworthy : murder and sodomy were alone excepted from the black catalogu3 of his crimes. I have heai'd of Iwm before, said one ; I know all about him, says another ; his whola life has been one series of enormity, cries a third ; he has been disgraced by his public punishments as well as his crimes, says a fourth. Li the midst of this uproar, being actuated by the principles of philanthropy, and from a conviction that he had not 3'et abandoned himself, I determined to stand the poor man's friend Ln the hour of his distress and ci lamity. Stop, gentlemen, say I,. '^tay your rage ; pray hea)keii to reason. The devil is not so bad '; his picture. — " liut he has committed a rape certainly," says one. Not quite so bad neilhc)-," say I, (and then endeavor to extenu- ate it by saying that it did not amount to a force, and that I under- stood that the young woman sv/ore falsely to piaster over her repu- tation) — "^ But he has counterfeited money, and been a notorious cheat,'* says another. " Something of this kind has perhaps hap- n'.-ned," hfy J, " but this ^v;;s owing to his ei.treme necessities,' STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 47 At this time I had in money but one half dollar, and no other property to help myself, excepting the anticipdtion of my wages. With this I hired a house for my family, *^ The rascal has called himself an Englishman all this while," say» a third. " He only forgot to insert the word rzet:'," say I ; " lie is a. New Englishman." — " The villain has altered his name," says a fourth. " He sprung from Eden," say I, " and therefore may, with propriety enough, be called Eden's son." " He is a d — d liar/* cries one, " his head is a perfect magazine of lies." — " You ought to consider that having laid a wrong fomidation, when he came to build up his superstructure upon it, and embellish the building, and ornament it in all its parts, these must necessarily be wrong like- wise." To one and all I say, " the gentleman has been hi a wrong road for some time ; but I am inclined to believe that he has turn- ed short about, and has now come mto the right path ; he is no\r at the bottom of the hill, pray give the man a chance to come up again, and get upon a level with his fellow-citizens." By argu- ments like these, at one time facetious, at another time serious, I endeavor to smooth over every difficulty, and make every circum- stance appear as favorable as possible. This, I think, is acting ac- cording to the true principles of benevolence and phiiantliropy f and I doubt not that m future he will " co-operate ^^•ith me" to render these exertions in his favor of the most lasting- benefit to himself, and to his nearest and dearest connexions. You will perhaps won- der v/hy I should so far interest myself in this person's good or ill fortune. This requires some explanation. You must know then, that the secret of his birth and character was, by a private commu- nication, made known unto me for a long- time before it was known in this part of the countrj-. It was evening when I first received this intelligence, and notwithstanding my former suspicions, T wsls struck with grief and astonislim.ent. How, said I, art thou fall',; ., ijw- fallen like lightning from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the momhig! ' All thy anxieties and fear lest Sir John Temple should discover thv being in this country, are no more ! No longer shalt thou dread the uirJice and persecution of thy British enemi--:3 ! No longer shalt thou dread the effects of a British outlawr\'! The doctrine con- cerning libels shall no longer prove thy ruin ! The mighty fabric which thy imagination hath been so long building, shall soon van- ish, like the morning dream, and pass away, with the years beyond the flood. How will the so7is and daughters of the uncircumcised triumph when they come to hear of this ! Tell it not in Gath ! Pub- lish it not m Askelon ! With thoughts and reflections like tliese was my troubled mind tossed to and fro almost the whole of the ensuing night. I put the case of this unfortunate stranger home to myself, and my breast was touched with sympathy and compai» sion. How easy, said I, is it for a man to go from one step to ano- ther in the paths of vice, until he is brought to the brink of de» 48 MEMOIRS OF of Mr. Elias Halsey, the person aforementioned, and boutjbt 126 lb. of beef, 1 10 lb. of pork, two bushels of In- dian corn, and one of rye, with six cords of wood for my ■winter's store. With this provision for my family I re- mained till they arrived, which was about the be^nning of winter ; and my wife brought money only sufficient to defray her expenses till she had crossed the Sound, und arrived on the island. My health, at this time, was again on the decline. Pulmonary complaints had taken hold of me, and constant fever attended, together with great effu- sions of sweat immediately after closing my eyes in sleep, which were so gi eat as to drench the sheets in which I lay. At this time 1 had opened an evening school, and thirty scholars attended. When I used to dismiss the school at ten o'clock in the evening, I would find myself exhausted to such a degree that I could scarcely reach home ; and it would seem that 1 should never again enter the school- house ; but this was the only mean in my power for &.Q support of my family. Wretchedness stared me struction ! How often have I, by my imprudence and folly, needed the fori^iveness of others, and shall I not be of the like disposition towards him ? Shall man, poor vile man, vain of his ov.n self-righte- ousness and virtues, presume to be less merciful than his Maker? ** But," said prudence, " Perhaps this man, for wliom you have so great sympathy, has abandoned himself to all manner of vice and immorality, and deserves not the pity or compassion of others. There is nothing impossible in this ; and if he should return here again, perhaps you had better join in tlie public clamor against him, lest yoiu* own chai-acter should be contaminated." " Xo,'* baid I, " it is possible the contrary may be tlie case, and I will give him a generous credit for his future virtues." With thoughts like these was I deprived of rest until my mind found consolation in the following ejaculatory prayer : " O thou Preserver of men ! de- liver him from all those sins which do most easily beset him. Bring him back into the right road. Restore him to himself, and to his i'riends, and to his country : imd if he should again return to seek our protection, gi-ant that he may no longer be stigmatized and scandalized as the vilest of men; and may no cold or formal re- serve prevent me from giving him friendly and decent admonition. If it be thy holy will and ])leasLire, may I be the happy instrument of reclaiming him ; and may Jesus of Nazureth wipe iiilhis dismal stains away. yir. S TETHER BUBROFGHS. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 43 111 the face. When I stopped the school, absolute vant ^yas close at my heels. Therefore in the morning I "would again renew my endeavors to attend to business. This scene continued for six months ; every night de- spairing, and every morning renewing my efforts ; and, strange to tell, I remained about at one, neither better nor worse ; and continued eytvy day in school, from nine in the morning till ten at night. I found the winter on this island uncommonly severe. The surface of the ground is ejitremely level, and no in- tervening hills or woods to break the force of the wind coming in from sea ; hence it becomes the most subject to violent uncomfortable winds of any place I ever saw. In addition to this, the buildings on the island are set up high from the ground, v.dthout any underpinning or bank- ing, and not very tight, and, of course, aie very cold, be- ing thus unfortined against the winter. In addition to all this, my wife v/as put to bed this winter, of our second son, and of course, our family was increased with additional expenses. Notv/ithstanding the six cords of wood, to- gether with the provision in the first place, had reached to the utmost extent of my finances, a few potatoes excep- ted ; and I could not, till the month of April, replenish my store. These were times to which I now look back with as- tonishment, and wonder how I lived ; how wo kept soul and body together. Yet I went through, and continue now perhaps as well as though I had lived in the palace of a king, feasting on the rich viands of his table. For my own part, my state of infirm health precluded the necessi- ty of much food.' At the opening of the spring. Doctor Havens put four of his children under my care, and they continued with me for the space of two years ; to v/hom I paid unwearied at- tention for their advancement in literary acquirements. The Doctor now again renewed all his former professions of friendship ; and called on me const-intly to enliven the declarations of esteem. However, my neighbors and ac- quaintance constantly waraed me against the connexion, aiiedging that I never should close my accounts with tlj© 50 MEMOIRS OF DoctoP w ithout difficulty. I observed, with some sur- prise, that he did not attend to settle his quarter bills ; yet I could not p;ive credit to these admoniiions, ur.til bitter experience tautrht me the lesson. During this time I had formed a most agreeable and intimate acquaintance wiih Mr. Woohvorth I found him a man of very pleasing parts, and an entertaining compan- ion. His conduct on my first acquaintance had endeared him to my feelings ; and his after treatment had confirmed una increased those sensations. I also became acquaint- ed with Mr. Dagget, minister of Southampton, who had ■written so spiritedly against the " Philanthropist.'* By these two clergymen I was violently attacked upon the subject of the ideas there manifested ; but not feeling any strong desire for the support of the sentiments given out, and likewise knowing the pieces to have been written in an unguarded manner, I waved the challenge to combat, and did not enter the lists with these knight-errants. Some lime after this interviev.-, 1 fell in company with these same gentlemen again, when they attacked me with more determinate resolution to bring me into action ; but I still kept them at bay, without closing in the contest. Seeing this, they demanded of me my religious senti- ments. Not complying immediately v»ith their demarid, they accused me of Universalism, than which nothing could be more criminal in their view. This was a cir- cumstance of which they had been somewhat jealous, ow- ting to my wife's father being strongly in that sentiment. However, their accusation p oduced no discovery ,^nd we parted no wiser than before. Yet the whisper circulated in some measure among a few particultr characters, that I was suspected of entertaining sentiments of universal salvation ; until a good old lady, who had heard the report, put them all to silence by observing, that " he can't be a Universaller, for he is quite a civil mr.n." At the opening of spring I found myself in a situation, from my salary, to provide for my family in some little state of comfort, superior to what we had enjoyed the win- ter preceding. We saw our little ones smiling around lis, and a prospect of being able to provide for ihsm cqj;q- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. fortably. Do you, sir, know this pleasure ? Indeed, you do not; you cannot. You never yet saw the time when you expected your little ones to perish before your eyes, or otherwise he thrown upon a barbarous world for char- ity, whose cold approach suffers thousands to droop and die, before she extends her hand to their relief This I have seen. I have felt these truths. I have shuddered with horror at the prospect. I have wished myself and family at re^ in the silent grave. Under such circum- stances my soul revolted at the idea of a long life. Hor- ror stalked around my dwelling. Wild dismay was my pillow companion. The most excruciating agony perpet- ually harrowed my almost exhausted spirits. To be re- lieved from such a situation ; to see these frightful imag- es chased from my view ; to see all these threatening dan- gers past and gone, brought on a situation, of all others, the most calculated to render me sensible of my present felicity ; and to give me those feelings under it, which no other person can experience, unless his situation had been sim.ilar to mine. iNIy school, through the winter, had been large, and had made rapid proficiency in learning. Satisfaction was the necessary consequent among all my constituents ; and prosperity was now the general prospect. One circum- stance seemed but slightly to interrupt this harmony. The evening school, v.'hich continued through the winter, was composed of elder members, who wished to perfect their education by attending to mathematics, geography, and rhetoric. In paying attention to the latter, they had com- mitted to memory a comedy of *' a bold stroke for a wife." After practicing it for a while in private, they formed a purpose to exhibit the performance in public. As there was no situation, the meeting-house excepted, convenient for such an exhibition, it was determined, after consulting some of the leading men in the parish, to have the come- dy performed in the meeting-house. It was accordmgly performed before a crowded audience. Deacon Hedges had not been consulted on this business. He lived in a remote part of the town. He- was much of- fended at the circumstance. He viewed the house t^ol- ^2 MEMOIRS OF /«/frf in consequence of the performance. But this diffi- culty died away, without much flowing from it of any kind As I have heretofore hinted, the people on this island ^ere very illiterate, making but a small calculation for in- formation, further than the narrow circle of their own bu- siness extended. They were almost entirely destitute of books of any kind, except school books and bibles ; hence, those who had a taste for reading, had not the opportunity. I found a number of those young people who had attended my evening school, possessing bright abilities, and a strong thirst for information, which would lead to rapid improve- ment, had they the opportunity*; Therefore, under cir- cumstances like these, I felt very desirous to devise some method to remove the evil. It was a subject of fre- quent conversation with the various characters into whose . company I happened to fall. No plan, however, was yet adopted. I mentioned the expedience of a Sunday school. That idea was immediately rejected, on the principle of its being unprecedented in the place. I proposed to de- vote Saturdays for the instruction of those who could not attend through the week ; but that trenched too hard up- on the economical system. I endeavored to persuade the young people to buy books ; but the greater part being yet minors, that could not be effected without the assistance of their parents, which assistance could not be expected on account of the expense. I finally thought of using my endeavors to persuade the people into the expediency of raising money for the purpose of collecting a number of books for the use of the young people of the district. I laid this plan before Mr. Woolworth for advice. I had often conversed with him on the subject before. He did not encourage me in the pursuit. He said the people would not consent to it ; that they had no idea of the bene- fit of books, or of a good education ; " and you cannot per- suade them to any thing that is new, or that is attended with exfiense. I have tried this matter myself I have had the assistance of Judge Hurlbut ; but all did not effect the purpose ; a library they would not have. 1 believe our influence is much greater with the people than yours. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 53 Under these discouraging prospects I had aboat i-^lin- quished the idea (thougli reluctantly) of attempting any plan to assist the young people to procure a tolerable edu- cation. I was in conversation one evening with Mr. Hal- sey upon this subject. He was a man of shrewd discern- ment and excellent judgment. " Mr. Burroughs, (said he) I have for some time observed your attention to the welfare of your school with some surprise. It has not been thus with former school-masters. They have ever manifested a desire to do as little for the school as they could consistent with their engagements. I am sensible of the advantage of such a plan as you propose, of having a collection of books for the common use of the district. 1 wish you may succeed in your friendly en- deavors. I believe you may, if you pursue right methods. Mr. Woolworth, it is true, has made sundry attempts to to establish a library in this town ; but a number of cir- cumstances have been unfavorable to his plan. In the first place, he has made the price of a share much too high ; in the room of forty shillings it ought to be twenty. The people in general will then likely become proprie- tors ; and for such people the library oughl to be estab- lished, because they are not able to supply themselves with books in any other way. Vv'e who are ignorant of the beoent of a library, may be willing to risk twenty shil- lings ; but forty would terrify us. " Another reason why Mr. Woohvorth has not suc- ceeded is, that people arc afraid they shall not be graiiii- ed in such books as they want, so long as he has the lead of the business. They generally expect the liorary will consist of books in divinity, and dry metaphysical writings ; whereas, should they be assured that histories and books of information would be procured, I have no doubt they might be prevailed upon to raise money sufficient for such a purpose.'* These hints from Mr. Halsey were clear in my view, and his reasoning decisive, I determined to im.prove from it, and once more rer.ew rny plan aaa cxerdon«. Ac >'i* Vv'oolwnrfV, ,.^~^ --^y counseiior in all matters of moment, I again made application to him, and sketched ou: the plui 54 MEMOIRS OF for his opinion. He still manifested his doubts about my uccceding. He added, "Certainly, you cannot expect our influence among this people to be equal to mine. I have tried the project faithfully, ard have not succeeded." However, after reasoning -with hjjj^i upon the subject for the space of tvv'o hours, he ended with this observation — « If you find that you have influence enough among the oeople to eff'ect your purpose, I will become a member of _ ^.ur library.'* Thus we parted. CHAP. IV. H AVING now a little leisure on hand, owirig to a school vacation, 1 determined to devote that time to the purpose cf visiting the people of the district, and offering and urg- ing upon them my plan for a library. Much to my satis- faction, I fouf'd the people willing to grant their aid to this business, after I had informed them into the nature of such books as should be procured, and into tlie advantages such a matter Mould afl'ord them. However, I had to renew my promises often, before they could feel certain that their money would be appropriated to the purchase of histo- ries, &c. In the space of a few days I had raised forty pounds, which I supposed adequate to the purpose first intended, i then applied to ]Mr. Woolworth for his share of the mo- ney, and to inform him of my success. I felt a degree of exultation in the hope of surprising him m the most agree- able manner, with the news of my succeeding so happily. But what was my astonishment and dismay, when in a cold disdainful manner he observed, " that I was very officious to gain influence among his people." However, he paid bis money, and we parted with feelings, on my side, very difterent from what they were when I was going on this visit. I iGini£4i^tely advertised the proprietors of the library ♦.0 hold a meeting tor tne purpose ursct©cting a catalogue of books, and to make rules for the government of a libra- ry, Sec. At the day appointefl we ail met. After we had STEPHEN BURROUGHS. • 55 entered into some clesulton- conversation upon t'ne busi- ness, it was proposed and agreed to choose a committee of five, to make choice of books. Mr. Woolvvorth, myself, Deacon Cook, Doctor Rose, and one Matthews, were cho- seti a committee for this purpose. Immediately after v/e had entcixid upon business, Mr. Woohvorth produced u catalogue of books of his own selection, and told the meet- ing that he had consulted all the catalogues of the book- stores in Xew-Yovk, and had chosen the best out of thcni all for this library ; and called for a vote upon his motio]i. The meeting voted in the affirmative ; upon which he pro- posed to proceed upon the business of forming rules for the regulation of the library. I now felt myself in a most disagreeable and delicate situation. Mr. Woolworth was a character, of all others, I would not willingly disoblige. To take any measures to stop his extraordinary efforts, I knew, would offend him in the highest manner ; and to remain a silent spectator would be at once renouncing every claim to integrity, in- asmuch as I had promised the proprietors positively, that histories, and books of information upon secular subjects, should give the leading cast to the complexion of the li- brary. Mr. Woohvorth was fully availed of tiis circum- ^stance. Kls reasoning, as it appea.^'ed to me, was after this manner, (viz.) that as the support of myself and fami- ly depended on my school, and as his influence was so con- siderable that he could essentially injure me in that re- spect, he therefore concluded that I would sacrifice every other consideration to my present support ; and would not, of consequence, dare provoke his resentment bv opposing his measures with regard to the choice of books for the library. If that should be the case, the people who had placed confidence in me vrould see it delusor^^ and that I would not or could not be instrumented in aiding their measures when opposed to him. The natural conse- quence fiowiiig from such a circumstance, would be to ap- preciate him, and depreciate me in their view ; a matter which now lay near his heart, fearful that m.y growing in- fluence would lead the attention of the people from him to other ob-ects. . S MEMOIRS OF The contempt with which he treated me, as a member ofthe comniittee, together with the rest, was what I would have subraiitsd to, v/ith patience, on mv own account, ijut when I viewed all the other members silent under ttie indignity, Mr. Woolworth not deigning to consult any upon his catalogue, I found the imperious hand of neces- sity hiid upon me to advocate the cause of those who had paid thair money on the faith of my promise. I requested the f I considered Mr. Woolworth the moming preceding, as much out of temper, so far as not to treat me with com- mon decency ; how he would feel and conduct this morn- ing was a matter of some doubt in my mind ; however, I v.as determined to observe such measures towards him as to make it manifest that still the remains of gratitude were sufficiently strong in my heart, to act upon the most friend- ly terms. I was very sensible that the plan which 1 was about laying before him would embrace his interest as well as mine, and that there could not be any reasonable objec- tion to it. When I arrived at his house, I found that time had by no means cooled his rage. He there said and performed actions which, for the honor of the cloth and of human na- ture, I do not choose to repeat. He utterly refused to pay any attention to my proposition. He threatened me with immediate expulsion from the place, provided I did not retrench my measures, or if I proceeded to purchase the books for those who had left his library. My answer to these many threats was of the following tenor. " I feel inyself, Mr. Woolworth, founded upon too just a principle to be subject to the motive of fear, therefore you will save yourself some fruitless labor to drop that subject and never resume it. One circumstance has weight on my mind, in my conduct towards you. When I first came into this town, you then conducted towards me li.k.e a friend. I then stood in need of assistance. I felt the benefitof your kind- ness ; I felt grateful on the occasion ; I ever have most sincerely wished to manifest those sentiments by the most friendly line of conduct towards you. I still wish it. Therefore I conjure you, for your own sake, for the sake of my enjoying those sensations of pleasure which will na- turally flow from acts of benevolence, that you would con- duct so as to leave it in my powder to shew a friendly part towards vou. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 63 " You cannot 6iit be sensible that self-preservation is the first law of nature, and if you continue as you have done, to use every effort to injure me in the public opin- ion, it is a duty I owe myself and family to justify my con- duct to the public, and this ultimately will be at your ex- pense, for if they entertain an idea of my conduct as being founded in justice, they will of course, consider you as a false accuser, malignant character, and revengeful person. How such an idea will operate, you must be sensible, if your passion for revenge has not wholly deprived you of reflection. Finally, sir, I wish to be in such a situation as not to injure you either directly or indirectly." After I had closed my observations, I saw a sneer of contempt sitting on his countenance ; he answered, " You wish not to ijijure me ? I despise your exertions. What do you think you can do, you poor miserable wretch ! to- wards injuring me ? I suppose you wish forme to make terms with yon ; you forget yourself, that you are a miser- able fugitive and exile from your own country, and here by the means of my protection." I left the house of Mr. Woolworth hopeless and melan- choly. To see the effects of his ungovernable rage, was an object truly distressiug to any feeling mind. To see him thus blindly pursuing his own ruin to gratify his re- venge, especially being a clegyman, the professed ambas- sador of the King of Peace, was an object of contempla- tion of the most disagreeable kind. I grant the deed Is madness ; but the madness of the heart. And what is that ? Our utmost bomid of guilt. A sensual unreflecting life is big- With monstrous births, and suicide, to c^o^m The black infernal brood. I made report to the members of our library that the object which wc first contemplated was now entirely out of the question, and that it was necessary of consequence to have a meeting in order to take further measures for our own internal regulations, and procuring the books in ^lestion. A meeting accordingly was warned to beheld 64 MEMOIRS OF at my house the third night succeeding, where the mem- bers accordingly met, and we were proceeding on busi- ness, when Mr. Woolworth came among us. He did not now appear with that overbearing haughtiness which he had at first assumed. He seemed moderate and rational. He observed that he was apprehensive our measures were not calculated for the general good. " While we are pursuing the object of two libraries I fear we shall fail in both ; being divided, we shall in our operations militate against each other, and finally both come to the ground." In answer to this we observed, " that every idea we enter- tained on the subject was to purchase such books with our mioney as we wished for. This was a right which v/e in- herited fronr^nature, and which we did not intend to give up ; and so long as we could not be indulged in this privi- lege in company with him, we had separated and eet up by ourselves ; yet we were willing to purchase our books to- gether ; nay more, have them all kept in one library, if that were thought most expedient, so that after we had read our books, they might have the privilege of them, so far as they esteemed it a privilege, and we of theirs under similar circumstances." To these remarks Mr. Woolworth answered, that he felt himself entirely contented with them, and further ob- served, that he would use ail his influence with the other members oi the committee to have our proposals acceded to, on condition of our remaining still with regard to the purchase of the books, until the sitting of the committee, which would be in about a week. We readily complied with these proposals, and consequently all further pro- ceedings were at present suspended. At the sitting of the committee, I came forward with our proposals, without entertaining the least doubt of their being readily acceded to ; but, sir, imagine my t.stonish- ment when I heard Mr. Woolworth reprobate the idea in the most pointed manner, in open violation of his positive promise to the contrary. He insisted upon it, that it was departing from the dignity of their character to form a co- alition with malecontents ; that it was contrary to their powers to admit such books into the library ; and finally, STEPHEN BURROUGHS, 66 that no other way remained but for us to pay our money into their hands, and rest the business with them to buy such books as they should choose. I expostulated with Mr. Woolworth upon such a line of conduct ; upon its unreasonableness and absurdity ; but all to no effect. He tenaciously adhered to his first position, and I finally pro- posed the expediency of calling another meeting of the proprietors, and laying the business before them. This was equally opposed ; but the rest of the committee now began to even dare to dissent in opinion from Mr. Wool- worth, and a meeting of the proprietors was accordingly warned. About this time the term of my engagement, as a school-master, was now expired, and Mr. Woolworth and Judge Huribut made a visit to all the inhabitants of the district, in order to dissuade them from engaging me again j however, this visit produced no effect ; my school again was full, and matters went ^n as usual in that line. At the meeting of the proprietors it was proposed and l*eadily agreed to on our side, though with great reluctance on the part of Mr. Woolworth, to fling by every thin«:^ which had been done, and be^in anew. ISIr. Woolworth •had brought rorvvaid at this time a coUcctlgn of books much better than formerly, having taken about tu'eniy out of the catalogue which I had at first exhibited. This col- lection I generally recommended, and observed manv things in its favor, but still I off'er.ded ; I was given to un- derstand by Mr. Woolworth, that he did not wish to have /«■« catalogue owe its reception to my recommendation. Out of all the catalogues nov/ present, we made a selec- tion of books to the mutual satisfac ion of all panjes ; and by the way, every individual volume of my first catalogue was comprised in this. The books were sent fcv, aiKl matters seemed to subside into a sullen calm. CHAP. V. Ti HINGS remained in this situation for some time with- out any material alteration. The affairs of Judge H-.r' YOL. II. G 66 MEMOIRS OF but began to grow embarrassed, and he was often in want of money for transacting his small necessary concerns. Under this situation, he proposed to a committee, which we had for the purpose of making additions to the libra- ry, the sale of some books out of his private library. The committee, upon his earnest recommendation, purchased a number, among which was the " History of Charles Wentworth.'* If you have ever read those volumes, you Vr'ill recollect adeistical treatise in one of them, as severe and ingenious as any extant. I heard soon of this new acquisition, and on the day for drawing books I asked some if they had seen that book; they answered in the nega- tive. I then turned to the part referred to, and shewed them some passages. Aghast, in wild dismay, they start- ed back with horror ! Had Afric's grim lion, with his shaggy main erect, and jaws bedaubed with blood, met them full in the way, they would not have mani1"ested greater signs of fear. To see the holy religion of their ancestors vilified thus by a vile caitif, enkindled their eyes >vith rage, and their cheeks flushed with anger I To see their library, now their common resource for information, thus corrupted by the vilest heresy, and blackest poison, after they had taken such unwearied pains to obtain one, pure -s nature's simple fount, or the gurgling rill rolling lis lucid streams over the brightest pebbles, was a sight which made every feeling of holy wrath burn with fury asjainst the unknown traitor. They were loud in their clamors'to the librarian to know who was the author of this abominable deed. At length, they heard that Judge Hurlbut was the man ; he, who but a little time before was so fearful of my corrupting the youth with bad books, that lie filled the whole country with uproar, lest I should efiect such a purpose ; that man, who was th« constant companion and fePow-luborer of Mr Woolworth to keep the librury pure from deistical writings ! ! ! A knowledge of this circumstance flew with the rapidi- ty of lightning among the people. All who had read the book condemned it to the lowest part of perdition, and a mceling of the proprietors was instantly called, to extir- pate so monstrous a production from the face of the earth. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 67 When we were once more assembled, Mr. Woohvorth opened the busmess with a lengthy harrangue upon the subject. He labored the point with the utmost exertion, to save his friend from condemnation. He went largely into the merits of the book, and said, " As but a very small part was upon the deistical strain, the other, enter- taining- narrative, he had no idea of its being attended with fatal consequences, and had it not been for Burroughs, who is ever fond of making mischief, you would not have known that the book contained any thing bad in it ; but there is a peculiar strain of malignity in this man, which ever seeks for and embraces all opportunities of creating difficulties among the first and best characters. He has kept this parish in an uproar almost ever since he has resided among us, and if you continue to have your minds disturbed by this man's machinations, you will find the parish soon ruined and broken to pieces." 1 now ai-ose in answer to Mr. Woolworth's observations, and said, that " I had now heard some remarks which had surprised me more than any thing else through the whole course of Mr. Woolworth's very extraordinary conduct. It was a justification of Judge Hurlbut in that transaction, which amounted to the whole of what he had accused me, though wrongfully, of intending, and of condemning in me that conduct which he had extolled so much in Judge Hurlbut. But what is the most extraordinary, is the avowed principle upon which he justifies his fi-iend the Judge. He says you would never have known that the book had been a bad one if I had not told you ! ! He ap- pears to be entirely willing that you should have bad books, to be cheated out of your money, to be wronged, imposed upon and abused, provided there is nobody wicked enough to tell you. Is this a doctrine, gentlemen, wisich soui.ds agreeable to your ears, and particularly from your spiritu- al leader, from your guide aiid dil-ector in the puiis of truth ? If your ignorance would be an antidote ag.inst the poison of such books put into the library by Judj^e Hurl- but, why not the same reason in my favor? Aiid why will not the epithets of mischief-making fellows, apply us Veud- ily to the reverend gentleman and to his friends, foi' rep- tS MEMOIRS OF resenting my books in that light, as what it -vrill to nie in representing his book in its true light ? And much more so when you take into considerasion, that their statements are false, and that mine have the full force of fact before your eyes. They have taken the liberty upon bare suspi- cion, to make loud clamors against nxy books, or else they pretended smt/iicion as a cloak to cover some other design ; be it which way it might, the example is the same; and they have been the leaders in it, therefore out of their own mouths they are condemned. " It has ever remained with a doubt on my mind, whe- ther Mr, Woolworth and Judge Hurlbut acted honestly in the great fears which they pretended to possess respecting my choice of books ; and as it is necessary for you to know whether I do act towards you openly and candidly, I was very glad ot the opportunity which presented for you all to see ;uid judge for yourselves. Let my sentiments upon the book be what they arc, I suppose it necessary for you to know its contents, and by whose instrumentali- ty it came into our library. '• It has been urged abundantly upon the other side, I hat I ought not to intermeddle in your concerns, seeing I am in so great measure a stranger among you. You, gen- tlemen, I expect are the judges with regard to this doc- trine, andif ic be founded in truth, then you will undoubt- edly withdraw from me that confidence which you have heretofore placed in me. " Whether the Rev. gentleman and his associates refer in their reasoning to any known established law or cus- tom of the country, or to the general nature of the matter, I know not. If the former, I would thank them to point it out ; if the latter, I will observe that they themselves are not natives of this place, and what particular period they have fixed for a previous residence before one may be concerned in public matters, I would likewise thank them to describe. For my oAvn part I can see none, es- pecially in matters that are clear and obvious to every common understanding. Why a man should be prohibit- ed from contributing his assistance to the public welfare STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 69 because he is a stranger, is a mode of reasoning beyond my reach. " Finally, gentlemen, the whole course of- treatment which I have received from Mr. Woolworth and Judge Hurlbut, from the first commencement of the plan for a library, has been injurious, abusive, unmanly and indecent ; yet their conduct on the present occasion oversteps all the former instances, in its glaring wickedness. You, gentle- men, have the book before you, you understand its nature. I wish to have you treat it accordiag to your discretion. I feel no anxiety about it on my own account." It was then motioned to have some of the obnoxious passages read before the meeting, but this was overruled by Mr. Woolworth, Judge Hurlbut, Capt. Post and Dr. Rose. It was then put to vote, whether the book in dis- pute should be excluded the library, and the negative was obtained by a la^'ge majority. The truth was this : there had been so much said respecting the book, that each in- dividual vras anxious to gratify his curiosity by seeing this phenomenon ; and each one vvho had read it, was more afraid for others than for himseii^, therefore it was deter- mined that the book should remain a member of the libra- ry, in order for each one to be gratified by the perusal. The Sunday following, Mr. Vv'oohvorth took up the subject in the pulpit, and labored through the duy to con- vince the people that it was their duty to banish me from their coasts. After the exercises of the public service were over, I addressed the people, and endeavored to con- fute the ideas brought forward by their clergyman, and to shew the injurious nature of his treatment concerning me, and the unrighteous conduct which he had been guilty of from time to time, and especially his falsehood and dupli- city in going contrary to his promise at the time of my mieeting his committee for the purpose of a union. Dea- con Hedges demanded of me whether I meant to accuse Mr. Woolworth with lying. I answered that I did. The Deacon then answered in a menacing manner, " we will see who lies. It is high time for us to stir ii it is come ta this, that our minister must be accused of lying.'' G 2 70 - MEMOIRS or The next day I saw a large gathering at the house of Dr. Rose, and curiosity led me among them, to learn the occasion of so large a meeting of people without any pub- lic day or appointment. Upon entering the house, I per- cci<*ed Deacon Hedges addressing the people in the fol- lowing manner : " One Burroughs has come into Bridg- hampton, and conducted in a very o^s^ro/zo/ow* manner; he has accused otir minister with lying, and isauniversel- ler. He is a very bad parson, for be was whipt and cropt and branded in his own country for a rape, and he has act- ed a great deal worse here than he did there, for he has quarrelled with the minister, and said he lied, and has tried to break up the town. They turned him out of their coun- try, and we must turn him out of our town, for he's a vile feilow, and not fit to live among us, and ought to be kicked out of town long ago." Mr. Halsey was present, and answered the Deacon in the following manner, (viz.) " Do you expect. Deacon Hedges, that Mr. Burroughs' leaving this town will settle the difficulties prevailing here ? If you do, you mistake the point. Mr. Woolworth has been guilty of open and premeditated falsehood, and Mr. Burroughs has brought the accusation justly against him. These are truths to which I am personally knowing, and to which I can bring a number of substantial witnesses ; therefore, the scandal will lie upon your minister, notwithstanding all your per- secution against Mr. Burroughs ; and whilst you are thus endeavoring to injure him, you involve yourself in still greater difficulty, and will have the blot of disgrace more apparent on your minister, than what it would be, had you let this business rested easy as possible." "Dare you, ^Ir. Halsey," said Deacon Hedges, " take the part of that villain?" " I dare," replied Mr. Halsey, " advocate the cause of injured innocence, wherever I find it, let the ])c\\erofthe oppressor be ever so great." At this Capt, Post made towards iSir. Halsey in a swaggering manner, i^nving him to understand that he would chastise him for his insolence :-but being mistaken in the person whom he undertook to frighten,, he tamely shrunk back to his seat. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. r\ Judge Hurlbut now proposed the plan of bringing an ac- tion of slander against me, for charging Mr. Weolworth with lying, before the Supreme Court, " And there,*' said he, "we will twist him, unless he will retract what he has said, and confess that he has been the author of all the difficulty in Bridghampton." I was at this time so profoundly ignorant of law cases, that I did not know to the contrary but what an action would lie in this case ; and that a Judge of the Court should be equally ignorant, was a circumstance to me of no small surprise ; yet so it was that the learned Judge really thought an action of slander would lie against me, for ac- cusing his minister with lying. However, the terror of a law-suit did not produce the desired effect, and the meeting broke up in confusion. The Bext day tlie following letter was received by Mr. Wool worth, from Deacon Cook. Bridgham/iton^ May 2 8 ^/z , 1793. To Mr. WOOLWORTH. S'/i?, I have thought, ever since we were both on the library committee, that you were unjusUy trying to make conten-- tion, and if possible, a division among the proprietors ; and I am witness that you pushed hard for a division into par- ties, in sending for the books, for no other reason than because you could not gain the sovereignty of putting in or shutting out such books as you thought fit. I tell you plainly, sir, that your authority, or knowledge in wisdom and grace is not sufficient to rule men's consciences at such a rate. It is evident that because you could not do these things and beat Mr. Burroughs, you are pursuing Haman's plan to hang poor Mordecai. It is a truth apparent to your hearers, that in preaching and in conversation you envy Mr. Burroughs, and try to get him away ; but we defy your rage, and teil you plain- ly that he has as good a right to stay here as you, or even your friend the learned Judge. We know ]Mr. Burroughs bus benefited this people ten times as much as ever you 72 MEMOIRS OF did. You could not have obtained a library without his assistance. If we may judge by your behavior, were the laws of the land on your side, a persecuting Saul would not go before you. Does this behavior comport with the principles you fir et end to preach ? I believe, were the case put to trial, there would be as many votes for your leaving this town, as there would be for Burroughs. Look at your congregation. There you may see that things do not wear the face of union, but the people will not tell you these things decidedly ; they are not plain and faithful to you. We cannot but notice how true your zeal has been in carefully guarding against bad books. Look at that abom- inable blasphemous one which the Judge put into our li- brary ! I tell you that until you have taken up these stum- bling blocks, you can never be my minister. Such peo- ple as you, say and do not. You may set your heart at rest. Mr. Burroughs is able to maintain by argument or even a regular life, so far as w-e know him, his own cause, against any accusation which you can bring. I don't wonder that St. Paul charged Timothy about re- ceiving a novice^ who is in danger of being puffed up. Pray let you and I think seriously of these things. J. COOK. After this letter had been read by Mr. Woolworth, it was at once determined to call in counsel ; therefore Judge Hurlbut, Deacon Hedges, and Capt. Post were called up- on to weigh and determine upon this important letter. After they had gone largely and learnedly into the busi- ness, it was voted, nem. con. to be a libel against govern- ment, and that it ought to be burnt by the common hang- man. They further determined, after the most candid investigation of the subject, that no way remained for a settlement of these sore and grievous difficulties, but by expelling me, who was the author of all iniquity, from the coasts ; it was therefore determined on the next Sunday to warn a parish meeting for the aforesaid purpose. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 73 The business was a^ain resumed by Mr. W. in the pul- pit, where he went largely into the propriety of not suffer- ing such a person as I was to remain. in town, and more particularly to teach a school. After the meeting was ended, Deacon Hedges mentioned the parish-meeting to be held on the Thursday following, " for the purpose of clearing Rev. IMr. Woolworth's character from the charge of one Burroughs." On the day appointed, the parish, together with a num- ber of spectators out of town, vrere universally convened at the meeting-house. Deacon Hedges opened the meeting with some abusive language against my conduct, and im- mediately Mr. Wooiworth arose and addressed the assem- bly in a speech of an hour's length, where he exhausted all his powers of abuse, in pouring forth the most vilifying epithets against me, which language could form, appar- ently intending to bury the idea of his own guilt in the odium cast on me ; however, his rage in this attempt was detrimental to his health ; it proved a powerful emetic, and this stopped his career. After he had ended, I arose to reply in answer, but the house, which before was profoundly silent, was now in a state of uproar, from the confused noise^ of talking, by his partizans, and by repeated orders to me from Deacon Hedges and Judge Hurlbut to be brief. This produced a resentment on the side of my friends, which flung the house into an uproar, which continued for some time ; and my utmost endeavors were necessary to prevent a serious engagement between the two parties. After this was in some measure appeased, Deacon Hedges proceeded to tell all who were for Mr. Wooiworth to draw off upon the east end of the meeting-house, where about one third of the congregation retired, and the rest kept their seats. Seeing this did not answer his purpose, he ordered all those who v/ere for Burroughs, to go to the west; at which an equal number went to the othet end, and the remainder retired out of the house. After this, those at the cast end of the meeting-house proceeded to choose a committee of twelve, to take such raeaourcs as they should deem necessary to settle the difficulties and 74 MEMOIRS OF clear Mr. Woolworth's character. The leading members of thi3 committee were Deacon Hedges, Capt. Post, Sec. The next day at evening, the fc>llo\ying paper was hand- ed to me. " At a meeting of a committee, chosen by the parish of Bridghampton, for the purpose of clearing up the charac- ter of Rev. Aaron Woohvorth, held at the chamber of Dr. S. H. Rose. DANIEL HOWELL, Moderator. HENRY PIERSON, Clerk. 1st. Voted, that it is inconsistent with the safety of the parish of Bridghampton, to have Stephen BuiToughs re- main an inhabitant in it any longer. 2nd. That if Stephen Burroughs do not remove by the 17thofTie::t month, this committee will take such mea- sures as they shall see fi: in order to remove him. 3d. That Stephen Burroughs be served \^*ilh a copy of these resolves of the committee. HENRY PIERSON, Clerk. Bridghampton, May 50th, 1793.'* I know, sir, you will smile tU this dull of th% Bridghamp- ton committee, and at their profound erudition in law knowledge, considering they hati a Judge for their coun- sellor in all their proceedings. This peremptory mandate had but little effect on my conduct. But I found my neigh- bors, and the parents of my scholars were much alarmed at the event. They were afraid the power which the com- mittee assumed, was absolutely in their hands, and that I should be turned out of town by might and main. These matters disturbed my school for some time ; reports be« ing frequently circulated by the adverse party, that I was about flinging by all business, and would forthwith move out of town. Yet after a while the inhabitants found that my school would continue steadily, and therefore they sent their children. The 1 7th of next month, the time appointed by the com- mittee for my removal, dravving nigh, and no signs of my obedience being manifested, it was thought necessary for Judge Hurlbut to gain further light into the powers of the committee, and what course they must take in order to STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 75 effect their purpose. He according])- applied to Ezra L*- Homedieu, Esq. clerk of the court, and from him received information that the only mean of effecting their purpose was, to expel me by the fiooract. Big with this informa- tion, the learned Judge returned to his constituents and made his report. Daniel Howell, the moderator of said committee, then signed a complaint, directed to Judge Hurlbut and Henry Pierson, Justices of the Peace, alledg- iiig that I had no sufficient means for the maintenance of myself and family, and consequently was in danger of be- ing chargeable to the town for a maintenance, and prayed for my removal therefrom. Accordingly an order was granted by these two Justices for my apprehension and ap- pearance before them forthwith. The order was execut- ed, and I was brought before them, when they inquired with great magisterial importance, w hat business I follow- ed for a living, and what means I had for support. After they had gone through with their interrogatories, they withdrew, and in about fi^ minutes returned and inform- ed me, that in their opinion I was liable to become a town charge, and therefore ordered me to remove by the 20th of July, and on failure, declared they should grant their order for my removal. I was ignorant of the statute of New-York upon this subject, therefore applied to an attorney living in South- hold, about 14 miles distant, for counsel and information. The contents of which were contained in a letter received from him a few days after. Sir, Having made a bona fide purchase of the value of thirty- pounds, you have gained a legal settlement, from which you cannot be legally removed ; therefore, should you be illegally removed, demand and take a copy of the warrant, and give notice to one or more of the overseers in writing that you appeal from said order to the General Sessions of the Peace, to be holden at Southold on the first Tues- day in October next, of which take a copy and be able to prove the service : also give notice in like manner to the signers of said warrant, that unless satisfaction is made you within one month, you shall commence an action 76 MEMOIRS OF against them for the recovery of the damages you have sustained by your illegal apprehension, confinement and removal ; and if satisfaction be not made, I think it advis- able to prosecute both the signers and executors of such ivarrant. I am, 8cc. DANIEL OSBORN. July, 17th, 1793. Upon this information I strained my credit with my friends, and by the addition of my own little savings, raised the thirty pounds, which I immediately appropriated to the purchase of land. Information of this I transmitted to the Justices, and likewise a notification of my appeal from their judgment to the Court of Sessions. However, one thing had almost escaped my memory, viz. the even- ing following my examination before the Justices, I wait- ed on Judge Huribut, with two of my neighbors, men of substantial property, who offered to give any security which should be required, to indemnify the town from any charges on account of me and my family. This was done that the world might be satisfied how consistently these men acted in obedience to the oath of a Justice of the Peace, in trying to remove me under a pretence of fear of my becoming chargeable to the to?/ii through pov- erty. They refused to accept the security. When the committee were informed of my becoming a freeholder, they appeared much disconcerted, and at a loss what measures next to pursue. Matters rested in si- lence for some time, and I was apprehciisive that, baffled in their measures, they had given up their object in des- pair ; however, they still held their meetings in secret, and to the great entertainment of the curious, a neighbor- ing woman of infamous character frequently met with them. At length I was notified by one of the committee, who came to my house on the business, that Mrs. Al- dridge, the name of the woman, had sworn a rape against me before Judge Huribut, and that unless I absconded immediately, 1 should be taken by a warrant, which had already been granted, and was now in the hands of the constable. My family were very much terrified at this unexpect- ed stroke of infernal conduct. My neig!ibors flocked in STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 77 and advised me immediately to decamp and leave the country, in order to save my life ; " for," said they, '• Mr. Woolworth and his party will take your life, let the event be what it may.'* I thought the better way however, not yet to leave the country, but risk the eveRT. I knew the consequences of taking such a step. The party against me would then be gratified in every wish. They would see me driven away, loaded with the greatest infamy, and themselves posses- sing every advantage to bury their own wickedness under the odium which they would cast on me, und none could prevent it. As this was a matter wholly unfounded in truth, I did not believe the abilities of the woman whom they hud cho- sen as the instrument of their wickedness, sulTicient to carry the business through, without detection ; and Mr. Ilalsey assured me that he would render me every assist- ance in his power through the trial. I therefore waited patiently the arrival of the ofTicer, expectin,^ to be cnn ied to jail, to remain until the sitting of the next supreme court of jVisi Prius. This circumstance prevented the continu:ince of my school. None expected I could attend to any busines::; aguin until after court. I waited in this situation a number of days without any further movement. I was surprized at not being yet served with the warrant ; however, after a time, I heard the warrant was not founded upon the crime of rape, but of an " assault with -dn intent to ravish ;" ^' O 1'* said I, " You are about endeavoring to bring the Worces- ter scene again into view ; a pattern well suitea for such vile purposes 1" This being a baikbie raatter, I gave over tlie idea of a jail. \Vhether the warrant grantedjn the first place by Judge Kurlbut was for the crime of ravibhment, and afterwards lie thought it better calculated to answer his purpose, to lay his crime in the warrant on a lower grade, or whether the warrant was the same and the report incorrect, I can- not determine. The officer not yet making his appearance to serve th<^ warrant, I was determined to go to him, that the dif^culiy VOL. II. H rs MEMOIRS OF might terminate, and I be in a condition again to attend to iny school. I accordingly went to his house, and desired him to serve his precept, if he had one in his possession. He of consequence made me a prisoner, but added, that as lie was then busy, he could not attend to go with me ])e- fore Judge Hurlbut, and desired that I would meet him there at sunsetting, and give in my bail. I told him that I would comply with his request, but added, " that I felt a little surprized to be treated in such a manner, after being apprehended on a criminal process. That I had been made a prisoner before on such an occasion, but had ever been guarded with the most sedulous attention." Gel- ston, the oflicer, replied, "that in common cases he con- ducted very differently ; but under present circumstances, if I made my escape and left the island, he would be an- swerable for all the difficulty which should arise, and if I %yas determined to stay, he had no doubt of my meeting him according to agreement. I expostulated with him upon the wickedness of the conduct to which he had become an abettor. " You Mr. Gelston have bound yourself by oath to execute the func- tions of your office without partiality, affection or favor. The nature of this office is to preserve the peace, appre- hend and secure offenders, £cc. and every idea attached to your office is comprised in this general conduct, viz. tct guard the innocent from the attacks and injuries of the v.'icked. This being the general complexion of yoiir du- ty, are you not prostituting yourself to the vilest of mea- sures, by being instrumental in prosecuting those plans wliich are so notoriously founded in v/rong, as infiuencing your conduct towards me in such a manner as to throv/ a temptation in m.y way to elude the decision of law upon tliis business, thereby declaring this to be the object of the party whom you serve ? Is not the language of the party, to whose service you are devoted, so notorious that you have not mistaken its meaning ? viz. that they are not c,Tieved for any law which they apprehend is broken ; that they are not desirous for the punishment of an off'ender ; but are anxious to lay hold of any pretence to get rid of a r^an whose openness they feur, and from whose resolution STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 7 J they shrink back abashed. What shall we think of a mar., irho being u Judge of the court and Justice of the Peace, shall conduct in the manner which Judge HurJbut has done, and that too in such a notorious manner, that not y. child in Bridghampton but wh^t would be at once sensible that every purpose would be -answered in his mind, should I leave the country ; and moreover you would be justified, nay, be applauded for giving me the opportunity, and bein;^ instrumental in furthering my escape." Mr. Gelston barely observed, " that lie felt no great in- clination to enter into inquiries respecting the motives by which those were actuated who gi-anled precepts. He should ever obey themo aiul leave ihe consequences to those who granted them.'* We parted, and at the time appointed I met Gelston at the house of Judge Hurlbut, in compdny with Mr. Halsey, who became my security in the sum of one hundred pounds for my appearance at the court of Quarter Sessions. I found Jud,-:;e Hurlbut determined to recognize me to ap- pear beCorc that court, ot which he was Judge; rather than before the court of Nisi Prius, which sat sometime sooner, and wiiich uiways took cogniz?.nce of matters of fcuch a nature.* After matters had progressed to this point, I found my enemies extremely mortified at their terminating so dii'-^ lerently from their calculations. I again resumed mv school and continued for some time in peace; but the tongue of slander did not cease, the exe?uons of iny ene- mies for my destruction did not abate; th4:y now saw that the matter must come to trial before a court of Judica- ture, respecting the crime for which I stood charged ; therefore they determined to affect that by prejudice in which they should fail by testimony. After holding frequent meetings in company Avith Mrs. Aldridge, the comniittee resolved that ISIr. Wooiworth " It will be well to notice, that no court of inqviest v.'as cverlield by Judge Hurlbut upon this business AvJien 1 was picsent, feariiii^ I suppose to brings the witness before me, lest I sliould gain i.ouie advantage, by iier telling those things %Thich v.-ould militate i^g-his': tha cause afterv.'ards. «o MEMOIRS OF should make a journey to Massachusetts and effect an in- vestigation of the reports there in circulation against me, and bring them forward to Long-Island under such a col- oring as to take hold of the minds of people in that place ; Mr. Wcolworth accordingly sat out on his 7nimsterial mission. When he arrived in the state of Massachusette, he be- gan his complaints in the bitterest manner, stating that I iiad ccme to Bndghampton, and after being used by him in the kindest and most humane manner, I had returned the blackest ingratitude ; had made difficulty among his people, and endeavored to effect all the disturbance possi- ble ; had endeavored to deceive the people about my for- ir.er character, Sec. Under this view, he requested a Mr. Storrs, minister « f Longmeadow, who was bound to Hanover, to call on Mr. IVheelock, President of Dartmouth College, and after re- lating to him the enormity of my conduct on Long-Island, request a statement of my character in writing from him. True to his trust, Mr. Storrs called on Mr. Wheelock, and made known his business, without any hesitation, or regard to the feelings of delicacy, notwithstanding my fa- ther was present at the time ; however, for an excuse foF Mr. Storrs, perhaps he had been led into the general er- ror which Mr. Woolworth had spread among his acqu-un- tance, Tiz. that my father had become my inveterate fee, V. isliing me in prison rather than at large. Mr. Wheeiock remarked to Mr. Storrs the impro- 7'iety of his intermeddling in a contention between Mr. Vv'ooWorth and me, aud declined doing any thing in the business. ri?uil-ly, after a puinfcl and laborious pur- suit after somellilng to answe-i- his purpose, I\Ir. WooN ^Torth retun)«!d home, wiJi only his own story, Avhich lis had inseited in a Springfield paper, in order to give the '-'.isiness a little less the appearance of design, and brought ;\t paper to one Frothingham, printer of Sagg-IIarbor, i';r him to republish in the Long-Island Herald. This curious publication was in the following words: STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 81 S/iring-Jzeidy ( Masmcliuactts ) ^ June 25th. " The celebrated Mr. Biirroii.^hs, who^ some yours since was convicted of counteifeiung hard money ziv\ passing of it in this town ; — of borrowinj^ u certain worth;- parson*s garments, watch, &c. under pretence of being u clergyman and clad in a manner unsuitable for him toper- form the sacred functions of his office, and leavin;^ his be- nevolent friend in exchange for those articles, this coriso. - utory text, " thou shalt seek me early but find me not,'* i^ now on Long-Island, in the state ofXe\y-York, takin,:, care of a large school. This villain, after spending a few ag-reeaiie summers on Castle-Island, in consequence of counterfeiting, committing theft, 5cc. attain saiiied fortli into the country in order for a chan:^-e of amusements. " By his artful insinuations and through the credulity of thic inhabitants of the town of Dudley, in the county of Worcester, he procured the charge of a school, a trust of the most delicate nature. Here he had an excellent op- portunity of " teaching the young idea how to shoot 1" he improved it, and presently after was lodged in the prisou at Worcester, tried on three separate indictments for at- tempts to commit rapes on the bodies of his young female scholars, was convicted and sentenced accordingly. Two thirds of his punishment vv'^as inflicted, and a day appointed on which he v/as to receive the remainder ; previous t'j which he broke jail and made hi-:; escape.'* ^ How this conduct may appear to you, sir, I cannot tell, i/at to me it seemed a stretch of v/ickedness beyond paral- lel, taking into view the circumstance of Mr. Woolworth's keing acquainted vvith this f^ict, viz. that the greater par: of this advertisement was entirely false, and done with an intention of creating an invincible prejudice in the mindi of those, before wiom my cause of assault muat soon conix; for triul. Added to this, tlie cry was raised against me, that I was abandoned by all ray foi-mer acquaintance, even by my own parents, being despised, rejected and entirely disowned by them. This assertion was made by Mr. Woohvcrth, in iae most positive and categorical terms. In the midst of this uproar and clamor, iny father, motho:, and wife's father, came to Bridg;hampton, on a visit, — .V- u 2 83 MEMOIRS OF bashed and dismayed, my enemies slunk into silence ; my friends, ^7ho had heard these dismal reports, no\r came fiockino- to my house in order to satisfy themselves in whe^t manner I was treated by my own parents. Abo«t this time the sitting of the Court of Nisi Prius took place, at which presided the Hon. Judge Lansing^, Nathaniel Lawrence, Esq. Attorney-General. I attended this court, in order to lay the libellous publication pro- (hiced by Mr. Woolworth, as above statefl, before the Grand Jury, in order for them to prosecute as a breach of the laws of the state. I waited on Mr. Lawrence in the iirst instance, and laid the matter before him, uikI receiv- ed his decided opinion, that the matter was a notorious ]-;reach of the law of the state, and ought to be prosecut- ed. However, immediately after I had left Mr. Lawrence, Judge Hnrlbut entered into private conversation with him ; and I Iieard them very earnest in their discourse, but could not distinguish the meaning of their words. The next day Mr. Lawrence sent for me and gave me to understand, " that he should not assist in bringing for- ward a bill of indictment on the subject of my complaint. That he had been informed by Judge Hurlbut that the matter contained in the publication wjs true, and that my conduct had been of a similar nature since I had residisd on Long.-Island ; that I was now bound over to Court for a crime of a most enormous and as2:gravated nature, of whicK there was not the least hesitating doubt of ray be- ing convicted ; and that the publication had been brought fci .-ard under a real necessity of preventing the ruin of the people of Bridghampton." i replied to Mr. Lawrence in the following manner. " I feel, sir, piyself injured in a very peculiar manner, by the statement made by Judge Hurlbut, and.tbc resolution you have taken on the subject. I have been oppressed by cer- tain characters in Bridghampton, among whom Judge Hurlbut iis one, in a very barbarous and cruel manner ; no means, however wicked and cruel, have been neglected to enectthicir purpose ; this series of difficulties is too tedi- ous to relate ; I have been much reduced m my circum- stances bv tliem. I had but a competency before, but now STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 8^ am reduced to a situation in v»'hich I have nothiii£^to spa^^c from the necessities of my family. Had not this been the case, I would not have ])rought this matter forward in be- half of the state, but would have commenced a suit in -my own behalf ; notwithstanding, I really flattered myself that the laws of my country would have protected me from in- jury, even in my state of penury. I am willing to risk the action on the falsehood of facts stated in the pul^licaiion ; and moreover upon the falsehood of the facts stated by Judge Hurlbut respecting my being proTed guHty of those enormous crimes which he has related." Mr. Lawrence waved any further conversation upon the subject, and the next day I went, as my only remaining resource, before the grand jury. After considerable conversation on the sub- ject, 1 was dismissed. The Attorney-General being sent for soon after, i had leftve to withdraw my papers. It will be well to note, that one of the Bridghampton committee was on this jury ; whether by accident or design, I leave you to judge. The Solicitor for the county being present at this court, I inquired of him whether other bonds would be necessary, provided a continuance of my cause should be granted at the time of my being called upon by the court of Quarter Sessions ; or whether the old bonds were sufficient, until the cause came to trial. I was informed that the old bond was sufficient under such a circumstance, without the ne- cessity of a renewal. The reason of making the inquiry was produced by a witness then being sick whom I de- pended on, and danger remained of her continuing unable to attend at the time of trial. The Court of Quarter Sessions was attended but by one attorney as a general thing, the Solicitor for the county excepted, who was likewise clerk of the court. This at- torney, whose name was Skinner, I applied to, in order to pre-engage his assistance at the time of trial. He promised to assist me, but I yet gave him no retaining fee. As the time of the sitting of the Court drew nigh, much noise was made about my absconding, and many frightful reports were made to Mr. Kalsey that I should break my bonds and leave the country;, however, these machina- 8i MEMOIRS OF tions proved inefTectua! ; Mr. Halsey p?ad no attention to the reports ; nay, he carried his confidence so far, as to -furnish me with horse, saddle and bridle, in order to ride to the place where the Court was held, bcin.^ 30 miles distant from my al3ode ; alledgin^.. "that if I was deter- mined to abscond, he y/ould place me in a situation of do- ing it with facility." As I feared, the witness upon whom I chiefly depend- ed, was unable to attend, and consequently, I had drawn up the resolution of moving for a continuance of the cause until the next term ; but judge, sir, my surprise, when I arrived at court, at finding the attorney, Mr. Skinner, to whom I had spoken for assistance, engaged on the o:her side, to assist "vTr. L'Homedieu the Solicitor; therefore I was left alone, and unsupported by any. The Judges presiding, were J. N. Havens and John Hurlbut. I was called to the bar and answered to my indictment. I then plead for a continuance. The attornies on the other side made answer that they should bring no objec- tions ; and demanded further security by new bonds, or that I should be committed close prisoner until next term. In m.y answer I observed, that I had endeavored to gain intelligence upon this subject from Mr. L'Homedieu pre- vious to the sitting of court, owing to an apprehension of my being likely to want a coritinuance, on account of my principal witness at that time being in a state of lingering illness, and received information from him that I should have no need to renew the bonds, in case of a continuance. Depending on this information I came on, unprepared with any security, expecting that I had done every thing which could be required ; tlierefore, the matter rested thus with me, viz. that I must either go to trial without the assistance of witnesses, which I could not do with safety, or else be committed close prisoner to jail until 1 could send to Bridghampton for bondsmen, which would be attended with diiTicuities I did not know how to en- counter, not only on account of the confinement, but like- wise on account of the expense attending the business un- der such circumstances ; under this view of the matter, I prayed the indulgence of the court to let the business rest as it was until next term. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 85 My prayer was not granted, yet I was indulged with a continuance until the next morning to make the best ar- langements for my defence. One of Bridghampton com- mittee was present at this court, who came to my lodg- ings in the evening, and desired a private conference with me. He endeavored to state to my view the dangerous situation 1 now stood in, observing from what I had seen I might clearly discern that the whole court was against me, and that I should hare no chance for an acquittal. " You know, Mr. Burroughs, that the whole of this diffi- culty has arisen in consequence of your obstinately per- sisting in continuing in Bridghampton, when the com- mittee had requested you to move away. It has ever been the determination of the committee to remove you by some means, and you see to what the difficulty has already arisen. We do not wish to have you confined in jail, if you will only be wise for yourself. If you stay and stand trial you can't entertain a hope to the contrary, but what a jail will be your portion. You see the leading characters in the court against you. You see that Mr. L'Homedieu hns already treated you with open insult, which the court allowed, and has your attorney on his side. You have no T\itner.s in your cause, and no chance to get any. You have no person to assist you in managing your trial, and two powerful lawyers against you ; besides all this, the court is against you. You have put your great dependence on the integrity of Judge Havens, but you may depend that he is determined not to befriend you, since he sees so many against you. Mr. L'Homedicu has great influence upon his mind, and he will not go contrary to his opinion. If you should leave the country, the business v.-ould come to an end without any fvirther difficulty. Your bondsman vrould never be prosecuted, aiid the whole business would die away of its own accord. I heard Judge Hurlbut say myself that Mr. Kaisey should never be hurt if you left the country. If you should live to get through this diffii- culty, we shall never leave you until you quit the town of Bridghampton ; therefore my advice to you, as a friend, is to leave the country this night, and never more return ; if you do not accept this advice, you may depend you are uu. fi '•^Q forever." 86 MEMOIRS OF After Mf. Hains, the name of this person, had clone speakmg, I answered him in the follorting manner : " You have observed, Mr. Hains, that frienclshiji has influenced you to give me the advice which you have just now utter- ed. Well € most obscene and abusive raillery. However, when he ar- rived at New-London, he found^he corporation so far from receiving my wife and children, and sending them on from town to town, according to the directions in the warrant, that they informed Gelston that he must find security for all costs the city of New-London might be put to on their account. This at once disappointed the prospects of the party, and my wife and children returned the next day to Bridghampton. You may possibly wish to know how it happened that, as the warrant commanded Gelston to remove me as well as my family, I was not carried away with them. The rea- son was this. I found it extremely difficult to support my family, under the embarrassment which I, by this time, found myself; therefore had resolved, if they were deter- mined to carry my family away, that they would soon ar- rive among their friends, where they would tarry until I should get my affairs somewhat settled, and my business so arranged, as to afford them a comfortable support. That disencumbered from the necessity of their immediate sup- port, I could make myself easy under almost any situation, and accordingly could practice a system of much closer economy, in order to bring my affairs into a better state. Under this view, I had determined to keep out of the way myself, when my family were taken from the island. How- ever, I have since suffered the keenest remorse on the ac- count of letting my family be taken away, by such barba- rians, without risking the conse^jucnces of being with them. As the winter was now approaching, I found myself straitened in my necessary stock of provisions, fuel, 8cc. for the winter consumption. There were some debts I had STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 9; ;ue, but particularly one of Dr. Havens, to a considerable .■amount, on which I depended for the support of my fami- ly. I accordingly made application to the Doctor for a set- tlement, but to no purpose. I endeavored to bring him to r. reckoning, that our accounts might be adjusted, being lovr almost of three ye?.rs standing ; yet my efforts were ineffectual. I stated at large the disagreeable situation of my ufFuirs, and the necessity of the debt for the support of my family. However, I yet obtained nothing more than empty promises. During the winter I continued my scliool, which was not large, and by the closest economy, made shift to get thro' with tolerable comfort ; but distress now began to stare me in the face. ^ly wife was in hourly expectation of bring- i'ng another wretched infant into existence. The provi- sions which I had laid by in the fall v/ere all consumed. My wages during the winter were all taken up in disciuirg- ing the debts which my law-suits and other diificuldes had brought upon me ; nothing now remained excepting the debt of Dr. Havens, which am^ounted, if I mistake not, to about eight pounds. This debt I had tried to collect, v.iib- out eject, for six months. I for the bst time wrote him word, that I should leave the account in the hands of Esq. Rogers to coiiect, if he did not forth vvith settle the mr.tter. The Doctor had the effrontery to come to my house and tell me, " that I wivs hated so much in that country, that I could not collect a debt." He offered me five dollars if I would pass receipts. I rejected this offer with that dis- dain which such an unv.'orthy action merits. Upon this, Dr. Havens left my house, and repaired immediately to Mr. L'Homedieu, for a special warrant for me to be brought before him, for an action of debt ; testifying, un- der oath, that I owed him, and that he was in fear of my absconding, and that thereby he should lose bis debt. This oath being necessary to entilie the pkintiff to a special warrant. I was taken with this warrant, and brought before Esq. L'Homedieu immediately. I plead for an adjournmen:, alledging that I had material witnesses to cite, and';"' - security for my appearance ; for I could have prov 92 MEMOIRS OF OiTer of five dollars the day before for a settlement. This request was denied ; I had the disagreeable necessity of going to trial immediately. Doctor Havens here exhibited an account against me for attendance, nursing, boarding, washing, lodging, Sec. during the term of twenty-one dEiys. His charge for board was three shillings per day, for nursing six, for wash- ing and lodging one and six pence, and f:5r attendance and medicine, ten shillings. You will please to recollect that this account was for sei'vices during my sickness of the fever and ague, and remitting fever, which had all been settled ; first, by its being done out of kindness, and sec- ondly, my discharging the Doctor's school bill during my teaching on Shelter-Island. Bridghampton committee attended this court, and made themselves very busy in interfering in the trial. The cause finally went to the jury, who abated much the price which Doctor Havens had put to his items, and yet after all, left a balance against me of 23 shillings. When judg- ment was given against me, there remained no more fear of the loss of the debt by my absconding. I was left at liberty and.retii'ed to my own home, in a state of despera- tion. I could not view my own family without feeling the fraptic rage of grief, more ciuel than the sting of death. My all was gone. My only remaining hope forsaken me, and my family in such a situation as to need the solace of comfort. I was in a state of horror through this night, totiiily indescribable. To add to this scene of wo, Gel- sion came the next morning with tiie execution, took our bed and bedding, and sold them at pub^c vendue, to satis- fy the execution, which amounted to four pounds. This was the winding up of all the scenes of horror through which I have ever passed. I now saw myself sunk under a weight too heavy to endure, without any pros- pect of recovery. To behold my innocent helpless chil- dren hanging about my knees, with fascinating fondness and affection, endeavoring to cheer and dissipate the hor- rid gloom that overspread our brows, ignorant of the ruin which was hovering around ; O, God of mercy ! this was a scene too great for mortal strength I I could look death STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 93 in the face with composure, but tliis scene deprived mc of manhood. I lost all fortitude under it, and could not Avithstand the rempest of passion, which entirely over- threw every remaining spire of resolution. I now saw my wife and children thrown upon the charity of a merci- less world for support. I was unable any further to con- tribute to their maintenance. IMy business was interrup- ted, my property exhausted, and my health and strength Mere wasted. A state of universal debility had attended me for more than two years ; pulmonary complaints, to- gether with symptoms of universal decay, had increased upon me to such a degree, aa to render mc incapable of business. Gladly would I have resi.^ned my life, but re- Tolted at the idea of leaving my family without the con- solation of one solitary friend to solace them in their dis- tress. O, helpless innocence, said I, to what a state of wretchedness have I reduced you, by making you com- panions in my wnyward fate. Wctild to God the days of my joyful union with you had been barred by the irrevers- ible laws of nature I Notwithstanding no joy had been so great, no pleasure so exquisite as domestic felicity, yet the pangs of their disappointment, the horrors of their sit- uation overpower every consideration of past enjoyment, and make me loathe its recollection I Which wuy to turn, or what course to take I could not determine I All was darkness, gloom, night, wretchedness and despair. As the throw of a desperate gamester, I determined to make application to ?.Ir. Woohvorth, Judge Hurlbut, and the committee. '• Possibly," said I, " gratified in their desires, their breasts may at last be touched with compas- sion, and they will commiserate the victim who has fallen a sacrifice at the shrine of their ambition ;'* but, alas 1 this application was productive of nothing but the bitterest taunts, irony, and repnouches ; added to this, I received the swaggering declamation of Doctor Havens, trium- phantly exulting under the idea that he had outwitted me ; and effected that, at a single stroke, which all Bridghamp- t®n had been in A'ain pui-suing for more than two years. This had the effect to arouse me from that state of stu- pid languor and insensibilitv, under wh;ch I had servilely i3 I'l MEMOIRS OF crouched for somclime. I erected ray head, asd re- proached myself for fulling under the burdens of misfor- tunes, which were produced by pursuing the course of rectitude. What, sdd I, shall honesty and integrity flee ashamed from the face of vice and wickedness? sbrbid it justice ; forbid it fortitude. Shall we only pursue vir- tue when her paths are strewed with flowers; and the cries of the multitude are in our favor ? " Rather,'* said I, possess that virtue, under the exercise of which we land against and overcome whatever difficulties may be thrown in our vvay." I now began to arm with resolution, to look about and see what means, could yet be used, and determined to de- vote ^\ hat little remaining ability, I yet possessed, to the advantage of my family. I had often received invitations from my quondam friend, Joseph Huniington, Esq. to come to Georgia, and commence business in that countiy, as affording a much fairer opportunity of making an es- tablishment for my family. My friend Huntington being in the practice of the law with a large run of business on hand, w*s under peculiar advantages to afford me essen- tial assistance to such an object. Under all circumstances, I concluded that the or\\f measure I could adopt, would be to accept of this oifer, fcud travel southward as soon as the trying hour of my v»ifc's sickness in childbed was over. Possibly, suid I, a change of climate may alleviate my diiiiculty, or hasten riiy end. In either case it will bring doubtful circum- stances to a certainty, and should I evenumlly l>e taken away, the probability will be, that my wifc*s father will then make provision for his daughter, when no one is left to do it. Should I happily succeed in recovering my - heidth and" gaining an iaiterest for the support of my farai- Iv, it would be infinitely preferable to tarrying in Bridg- hamptcn, and suffering a thousand deaths in preventing one. Moreover, by going such a distance, I might iliude t]i« disadvantages of a thousand reports, floating upon a thousand kabbling tongues, loaded with gall and bitter- ness. Already has the propensity among mankind to de- prcclutc the merit of others, bstii carried to silch an a- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 95 larming height to^Ta^cl5 me, that whoever performs an evil deed to me, thinks he is doing " God service." I made a statement of these views to my wife. Many- objections occurred, hut after maturely considering the subject, her reason triumphed over her feelings, and she aided me with counsel to strengthen my yet irresolute mind. One great difficulty yet remained, whicli was hard to remove, viz. how to provide against the expenses of sickness, as we were now in a state wholly destitute. After ruminating some time on this subject, with no small degree of trouble of mind, I at length determined to make a visit to William Hart, Esq. of Norwich-Landing, lay my situation open to his view, and peradventure his heart would be inclined to compassionate my situation ; he had ever appeared as a person possessing the milk of human kindness. I was not deceived in my estimate of his feel- ings. He compassionated my distress ; he gave me ten , dcllars : he moreover wrote to an acquaintance of his in New-York, recommending me to his attention.. ^Yith this small sum I hastened back to my family, with feel- ings triumphantly delightful. I found my exertions crowned with success so far as to produce a remedy from the impending evil of being destitute of help in time of sickness I waited the usual time of expectation, nay, I \vaited three weeks longer than the natural period in ro- tation ; but the hour of sickness and delivery did not yet arrive. The stock of money which I had laid by for this purpose, was now expended, and no prospect of gaining another supply. To stay longer and starve with my fami- ly, I knew was iruiiless and in vain. I determined there- fore immediately to hasten my departure from this inhos- pitable clime, and seek support in a distant country. Tho time I fixed for my leaving this place being now estab- lished, the fortitude of my wife began to fail. The pros- pect w^s so dreadful before her, and the time uncertain when we should again meet, or whether we should ever again see each other, that she sunk under it. She roared Avith anguish through the night. The children were ter- rified at seeing their mamma in such distress. They wept to keep her company, yet little thQ\ight of the harm 96 MEMOIRS OF that was around them. You, sir, arc a father ! yet you know nothing of these feelings. Distress such as that can only give you a sense of them. I used my endeavors to administer comfort in this dreadful situation. I called the attention of my wife to the fluctuating scenes ot time, that such prospects could not always last ; that the darkest times are soon followed by the rising sun ; that she lived in a country where they dare not let her starve. Miserable objects of comfort 1 ! While I was endeavoring to administer this consolation (cold consolation^ I felt the want of assistance myself I proceeded till my faculties of sensation were stagnated by the dint of grief My eyes were set with horror ; my teeth gnashed with anguish ; my tongue clave to the roof of my mouth, and I could not pronounce a syllable. O I God of mercy ! on me alone pour out the full vials of thy wrath. Let me alone sustain the fury of thy decrees, and avert thy vengeance from these who prattle innocence in every lisp of the tongue .* At earliest dawn I tore my- self from my family, I hasted on board a vessel, and sailed for New-York. These are scenes at which nature sickens ; yet they are scenes of nature. For the mind, in the cooler mo- ments of reflection, to investigate the secret source from whence originated such cruel sufferings, and apply a remedy to this disorder, is performing a part truly hu- mane. The first emotion, we are apt to feel, under the impulses of misguided passion, towards the author of such calamity, is vengeance ; but, alas ! vengeance may gratify the impulses of passsion, but cannot correct the evil. Had not the most besotted ignorance bewildered their minds, they could not have conducted as they did. Although some were reputed men of information, yet by making advances in error and cultivating wrong pursuits, ■ they made themselves moi'e the children of darkness, than nature's simple sons. They had become more estranged * This violent sensation of grief w.ts caused by the exclamation of my little child, who, seeing tlie distress of his mother, and learn- ing that I vv-as goin^ to leave hQF, ctied, " don't go away d^dda, fot if you do manima will die/' STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 97 to the Yoice of reason, and shut out from light, by stronger bars of darkness. Wisdom teaches us all to consider each other as children of the same common family, and that our true happiness is promoted only by the welfare of all ; that there is that connexion between, the various members of this family, that no one can suffer without iiiTolving, in some measure, the family in the difficulty. Mr. Woolworth had been educated and habituated ia the opinion, that the character and station of a clergyman was great and sacred ; as he observed,to me on a certain occasion : " A clergyman," said he, " is the ambassador of the Lord Jesus ; he is clothed with his authority in that character, and therefore ought to be treated with that re- spect which such a character claims; therefore any at^ tempt to oppose, or bring a minister into contempt, is com- Hiitting a crime immediately against God, and ought to be punished as the most destructive of any which could be committed.'* These sentiments were disseminated among the people who v/ere leagued against me ; ^d I believe they consci- entiously thought it their duty to destroy me by any means, be they what they might. Under this view, it is not to be wondered that extrdordin.iry and violent meas- ures should be adopted. The consequence of such treat- ment towards me awakened the feelings of passion, and wiien passion was the leading feature on both sides of the contest, but little reason will be called into exercise. Cool deliberation will give place.to the wiles ot subtilty, and the disorder will increase rather than abate. I have many times since iaj^nented my vv^ant of piitient perseverance, in endeavoring to convince m^ persecutors of theifc' wrong, by the cool dictates of reason, and in pur- suing some measures with too much warmth against them, v/here, in fact, I found that jealousy had miscolored theii* transactions to my mhjd. Error once seen ought to be corrected. The pruniug-hook should never be laid aside, then we should live up to tho condition of our nature, which requiics a state of improving and progressing in knowledge till time shall cease. Had IVir. Woolwortii laid aside the idea attached to his preconceived errors? 58 MEMOIRS OF and given the subject a free discussion ; looked into the nature of man, his feelings, and state in society ; and con- sidered the Mature of that doctrine which he undertook to inculcate, as an ambassador of the Lord Jesus, 1 know his native good sense would have flung a load of error from his mind, " whose heft would sink a navy." The full ev- idence of truth would have blazed upon his understanding with irresistible force. He would have remembered the command of his J^ter, " Love thy neighbor as thyself ;" and in this commaA^ he would hare seen that wisdom and propriety, whfch will render society perfectly hap- py, when it becomes perfectly obeyed. But on the con- contrary, he had taken his position in error, he had pursu- ed this error without giving himself liberty to examine its merits, until he raised a fortification of darkness around his mind, and consequently excluded the approach of truth. Under circumst!inces like these, the energy of his miad was perverted to iiihuman purposes. He spread wretch- edness and desolation around him, and became a partaker in the general calamity. What a different effect would a contrary line of conduct have produced I By nature he was made for social plea- sure 'and enjoyment ; to receive and communicate happi- ness in the mutual display of a benevolent mind : had he pursued nature, in the matters relating to our unhappy disputes, in the room of producing noxious effects, it would have been attended with the most salutary consequences. This line of conduct would have produced the most feeling evidence upon the minds of his connexions, of the real dictates of wisdom. They would have been mutual helps to each other in making improvements, in this progressive state, upon that establishment. They would individually have contributed their share to have kindled the flame of pleasure, social enjoyment and benetDlent satisfaction ; and so fast as ignorance vras removed, they would have found themselves in a situation of bestowing and recei/ing the permanent establishment of a lasting happiness. Ignorance is the great source of evil ; i-nd where men pursue a course founded in error, ever so far, in the room of acquiring wisdom, they make further removes from it» STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 99 and become more and more strangers to light and knowl- edge ; more and more stifle tlie voice of nature mthin them, by shutting the avenues of information ; fixing in their vain imaginations their own opinions, as the test of information ; saying to investigation, " Hitherto shalt thou come and no further, and here shall thy proud waves be stayed." A state of prosperity is much more fatal to the growth of wisdom than the bitterest adversity. Under misfor- tune the mind is called into a state of active exercise. That dependence which mutually subsists between the members of society, is not only seen but felt ; and no truths are so well understood as those we feel ; the evils of misfortune are known ; the operations of the heart and the exercises of the soul in this state of mutual depend- ence can there be traced. Whereas in the days of lazy prosperity, the objects presenting to the view, are person- al gratification, and a listless inattention to the welfare of mankind, owing to the want of a stimulus to call the pow- ers of the mind into exeition upon such subjects as they feelingly find is productive of happiness. We find in history many striking examples of this truth. At the time of Alexander's mounting the stage of action, and performing his part in the busy seenes of life, he. was humane, benevolent and kind, to an extraordinary degree. Prosperity and adulation made him forget that he was a man. His conduct would make the feeling heart wish that the arrogant assertion of not being a mortal, had been true ; in order that the character of human nature had not been stained with those scenes of injustice and folly which must leave an indeiiable blot upon our escutcheon, which time can never purify. The yet more amazing folly of mankind had fixed the title Great u]ion this inhuman wretch. Had mankind seen with the wisdom of Agesilaus, king of Spar- ta, they would have blushed at giving such a name to one of the most improper subjects then in being. When the king of Persia was called great in the hearing of Agesi- laus, he v.'ould ask, " how can he be more great than others, without he is more Just P" 100 MEMOIRS OF . Perhaps nature had not evfer been more bountiful in furnishing any characters with the talents requisite for communicating happiness to mankind, than appeared in Pompey and Julius Caesar ; howerer, an uninterrupted course of success, and its constant attendant adulation, called their attention from their true interest, made them ambitious of being more than man, and in the pursuit of the object of this ambition, they sunk infinitely beneath the meanest slave. Even the bloody Nero, when a com- moner, was so strongly affected with objects of human ca- lamity, that when it became necessary to sign a death warrant, he lamented his ever learning to m rite, because thereby he must do a deed so repugnant to his nature. Nothing in the ordinary course of things has so direct a tendency to pervert the bounties of nature in the human mind as exkitution, prosperity and adulation. Nothing has a more direct effect to learn man wisdom, than often to experience those events which teach him that he is a 77mn. From this view of human nature we see the wis- dom of these governments, where they have made pio- vision for calling men frequently from office, to mingle again in common society ; to feel and experience the weaknesses, dependencies ai^id connexion which exist among each other. I found the most dilBculty in reccnciiing my feelings towards Doctor Haven?, even upon the benevolent sys- tem. With him and his family I had maintained one un- interrupted course of friendly offices during my acquaint- ance with him. In a number of instacces. wlien his mis- fortun&s required my friendly rad, I exerted myself with the greatest ardor in his behalf. One circumstance I will rekte. The doctor had a daughter, who being unfortu- nately in a state of pregnancy, by a young man who utterly refused to marry her, a universal gloom of despondency hung over the family under an apprehension that the mat- ter would become public, and leave a blotupon the family. Under this situation the Doctor entreated me to do some- thing to relieve him from his difficulty. I entered warm- ly into the business, I visiled the young man, I exerted my eloquence in painting the situation of the young worn- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. lul aa, together with that of the family. I expostulated with him upon the injurious nature of his conduct, in betraying that weakness which by nature he was created to protect. I spent day after day in this pursuit. After he had utterly refused lo comply with any other terms, than to make pro- vision for tKe child, I still'would not give up the point. I saw him and w rote to him with all the powers which I could call into exercise by my tongue and pen. ^My exer- tions proving fruitless, the Doctor formed a very extraor- dinaiy rcscludon to obtain revenge upon the young man. He concerted, in company with his daughter, the plan for prosecuting him for a rape ; but applying to Mr. L'Home- dieu on the business, obtair.ed information, that under ■■iuch circumstances.^ such a prosecution could not be carried into effect ; therefore the Doctor was necessitated to sit do\ra contented under his disappointment. The source of c.U the evils arising from the Doctor's conduct, I can now clearly impute to ignorance, both nat- ural and acquired. He was, among men, the most stupid and unfeeling. His capacity admitted the least improve- ment of any man wit!i whom I was ever acquainted; his prejudices the most rooted and stubborn ; and his sys.eni of thinking the most singular.' He ever conbidercd the perfection of the human character consisted in an ability to subvert an adversary ; he ever appeared to thinkit laud- able, and a striking instcince of wisdom, to use the most nefarious means to obtain a favorite, if the means and end were immediately connected. His s^^nsorious appetito upon the failings of others had no bounds ; but wlicu the tables were turned on^is own family, the least obloquy was the greatest crime. The sufferings of others had no place in his mind, but his own trials were objects which called for universrd commiseration. I believe you think by this time, I am drawing the pic- ture of a man consummately ignoran: ; and that a con- .summate d-^gree of foily was the fruit of this ignorance, ♦and that an equal degree of stupidity \wi\\ ever keep l.im consummately ignorant. The picture U the most disa- greeable tnat ever I have met with m humanuaturcjuadl jdo not believe many equals are to be found. VOL. II. " K .MEMOIRS OF CHAP. VII. AjirillM^ 1794. X LEFT Long-Island with these heart-cutting pangs that a person of ffeeling must experience under my situation, a family behind me, consisting- of a wife, and two small chil- dren, and my wife in hourly expectation of being put to bed of another, in a state of such poverty as not to have the value of one dollar of provision in the house, and no way to procure any ' more ; and myself again launching out into the world without a single dollar to help me for- v.ard, and no business to apply myself to in order to pro- cure me sustenance for one day. 1 took a passage with a man by the name of Fordham, for New-York, who follow- ed the business of carrying passengers from the east €nd of Long-Island to New- York. His price for the passage "was one dollar, and each passenger to find his own sea stores. I took on board willh me a few hard biscuit, hop- ing the passage would be short, and that. I should stand in need of but little provision ; but in the room of its being one day, it was lengthened out to seven, by calms and con- trary winds, so that by the closest economy, my biscuit w ere eniirely gone by the fourth day ; and one of the pas- sengers by the name of Du Val, perceiving my necessi- tous situation and anxiety in consequence, made me the butt for his ridicule the remainder of the passage, to my no small mortification, for I found the master of the vessel took part in and fayored the sport, under an apprehen- sion, as I suspected, that t^was not able to pay him for the passage, and moreover was fearful of my making applica- tion to him for more provision, since my own was all ex- hausted. This I bore, bec?.use I could not help it, for I knew his suspicion was rightly founded about my own provision, and of consequence he was the only person to whom I could apply for relief, and apply I must, or starve. After much solicitation, I obtained half of a three pound loaf, with which I made out until I arrived at New- York, where I put up at a public house, and called for a supper, having left my trui^k on board the vessel for ^yant of a iol- . STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 103 hv to pay rny passage. After I had supped very heartily, as may be supposed, I reth'ed to rest, or rather to bed, to have the nicije leisure opportunity of reflecting upon my desperate situation, and to fall upon some plan for my fu- ture conduct. In this situation I had a chance to take an uninterrupted view of all the difficulties that attended irie, and the miseries to which I was reduced ; a family left amon,^ barbarians, who, under the sanciion of religion, v.'ould willingly cut their throats, as they had under that sanction already reduced me from easy circumstances, and from a situation in which I could comfortably support my family, to my present condition ; my name scandalized in the most infamous manner, by those hell-hounds of des- potism, among those who were no way acquainted with me but by those reports ; destitute of money, of business and of friends ; and all my dependence upon the recom- mendation of my worthy friend Hr.rt, to a gentleman in Kew-York by tiie name of Himtington, as an object (U- serving charity. This was the nnture of the prospect as it then offered to my view. Under this prospect the burdens of life ap- peared too great for mortal strengtli, and gladly would [ exchange this life Cipon the presumption of findiiig astCvte of rest in the grave. But to desert a f^miily under such a situation ! unprovided with the bare necessaries of life I ' my soul started back with horror from the contemplation of such an object. After nature had been a long-time fatigued with the anguish of these prospects, she at length being exhausted, sunk to rest. Early in the morning I set out with my letter, to deliver the same to Mr. Huntington ; and ^•hile I was on the way thither, my heart was in a state of palpitating anxiety, for fear that some of the ten thousand accidents which daily happen should interfere with my ob- taining assistance from my present and only prospect. But my fears were much abated after delivering the letter, and his telling me to call at 10 o'clock that morning. I re- turned to the tavern with a cheerful countenance and ate a breakfast with a renewed appetite. I did not fail to call precisely at the hour appointed, and to my inexpressible - - ' -'^f Ived from Mr. Huntington ten dollars. The 104 MEMOIRS OF CiOiKis ofpoverty were dissipated in a moment, and for a few moments I beheld myself sufficiently rich to answer every gratification of -my heart ; but this delusive vapor ^oon vanished, for I found, after paying my passage and expenses at the tavern, that my heap of treasure began very apparently to diminish. I had by this time deter- Tnined to bend my course to Georgia as fnst as possible, in compli-ince with the solicitations of my friend Hunting- Ion, who was in those parts in the practice of law. But to perform a journey of a thousand miles with my finances was apparently a difficult task, but to proceed on as far as ray money would carry mc, was what I thought best, and then perhaps there might offer some prospect of my ob- taining business of some nature which would enable mc to earn by my industry sufficient to carry me on again. "With this resolution I paid my passage to Philadelphia in the stage waggon, and bid farewel to the state of New- York- in which I had spent so many pleasing and painful days. I found by this time my health, w^hich never was ,G;cod in that state, grew better, and after a very agreeable passage, arrived at Philadelphia the next day about five in the afternoon^ where I put up at one Wm. Elliot's, at the Pign of the cross-keys, whom I found to be an attentive and agreeable publican. My money was here all exhaust- ed, consequently I was under a necessity of trying some raeasurc for another supply. There was a member of Congress in Philadelphia, by the name of Learned, who V :.s partially accrjainted with my misfortunes, and of con- jcqucnce, I expected he would relieve them. I accord- ingly made application to him, stating my circumstances and views to him in as concise and plain terms as I was '«bie, it being then evening, and he engaged for, company (aS he said) told me to be at the lobby of the Congress- house, at the time of their going in, and he then would see me again. Accordingly I wailed in the lobby at the time appointed, for the space of three hours, with an anx- i(;us mind, before he made his appearance. He told me at once, after 1 saw him, that he had a damn'd expensive family to maintain, and therefore could not afford any as- eistance to beggars. My feelings any person, will more jf STEPHEN BURROUGHS. ioi readily conceive upon this occasion than I can descmbe. I told him I did not wish him to injure his o',vn family oi- glTe to me as a beggar, but to afford me temporary assis- tance until I could be under a situation to help myself, and if he ^vo^dd do that he should ever find that I possess- ed a grateful heart ; but all my entreaties were in vain, and I was forced to leave him with a heart almost burst- ing with grief and indignation. I then knew net what to do, or which way to turn for.a subsistence, as my bituatiou then was, being a stranger in the city, and no person lo recommend me to business, which was absolutely ne- cessary, in order to obtain any. After pondering a long time upon the gloomy prospects before me, I bethought myself of another person of whom there was a probability of obtaining some help. Tl\is was likewise a member of Congress by the name of Niles, from the state of Vermont. T}iis gentleman was an inti- mate friend of my father, and accordingly I was in expec- tation of his advancing a small sum of money, and taking a draught upon my father for the same. This man pos- sessed a sincere good heart, and was a man of great meta- physical talents; his economical system had raised hiiu from a small be<-!:inning in the world to possess a handsome competency. His education had been such as to prepare him for the clerical function, in which cliaracter he liad exhibited for a number of years, so that the most stiikinp:; features in his character were his great fondness for close metaphysical reasoning, and a hi'.bit of great ecanomy in his domestic concerns, aud had so long practised upon this system, that any variation from it in a person'^ conduct, or any want of success in a person's undertakings, Avere ii\ his view perfectly wrong. This wtis tlie man to whom I applied for assistance, as my ultimatum. I described my circuinstances to him in as clear terms as possible, and af- terwards told him of the request I wished to make. With- out giving me an answer either in the afnrnnitivc or nega- tive, he went on with a lengthy discourse |o prove that my system of economy had been wrong, drawing a comparison between his prosperity and my ad\ eriity, and then pointed out a certain line of- conduct that I ouQ,ht then to take un k3 # 106 MEMOIRS OF and observe, and offered to assist me in prosecuting; suQ.h j but as his plan had many things in it which I could not reconcile my mind to, and more particularly the length of time which would iiitervene, before I could provide for my family, I took the liberty of reasoning with him upon the better plan which I had marked out yi my own mind. This was touching him in the tender spot, and he told me he was happy in not having the direction of rrA' conduct ; that I must do as 1 chose, but that he had no idea that my father would answer any draught upon him, and therefore coi^ld not advance nrie any money. In as great a proportion as my hopes had been fluttered vrith the expectation of relief, in tl.e same proportion did I feel the k^nness of the dis- iippointment, when I was refused the supply which 1 sought for. I at this moment viewed myself in a state of desper- ation, and had an inclination of rushing into .the streets and commencin,2: war with the whole human race. When I took a view of the worfd, of the pomp and splendor which surrounded cro-vs'ds that perpcluaily passed before my eyes, to see them roll in affluence and iuxury,-inhabitating lofty houses, with superb equipages, and feasting upon all the delicacies of life ; under these affluent circumstances, ^' ithholding from me what would never be missed from I'.eir abundance ; myself destitute of every necessary of life, and looking in Vcin to those who from their superflu- ^ ■: could spare enough to relieve m,y distress and feel no >.iinuticn in their own property, brou,^ht to my mina a - in of ideas thit were desperate and horrid, and almost -dnccd me to a state cf madness. ' Under this situation I cvoM not suppress the overflowings of my feelings. My eyes lighted up with indignation, my countenance was for- tified with despr.ir, my heart w.as swolen to that bigness v.hich Wcjs almost too large for my breast to contain. Un- ,(!er tiiis situation I arose wit'i a ti unquil horror, composed- ly took my hat, and politely bid ?»Ir. Nile s farewel. I be- lieve the desperate emcti jus of my heart were apparently manifested, to his view by my couitcnance, his apparent immoveable insensibility relaxed, he put his hand in his pocket an.l haided me three dollars. This act of kind- if S3 L't a moment melted the ferocious feelings of my « . STEPHEN BURROUGHS. io7 heart, and I burst mto tears ; all those desperate sensa- tions vanished, and I again found myself a man. With this small sum I determined to leaye the city of Philadel- phia, and still pursue on towards my destined place of abode. I paid my tavern bill, which I found much smaller than I expected, and afterwards took the Baltimore stdge- wa.egon, and went on as far as a town called Warwick, about half way to Baltimore. Here finding ray money again gone, I was under the necessity of stopping at Hog- son's tavern, under a pretence of being too unwell to pur- sue my journey any further. I found at this house a young gentleman by the name of Hawley, who was originally from Connecticut ; and having more confidence in him on account of his coming from the same part of the country vith myself, I told him my circumstances, and begged liim to point out some way for m.y relief, if possible. I had it in conteiTiplation to obtain, by his assistance, a small school, or an opportunity of tending a store, writing in an office, or something else, by which I could rai^e a little money ; but no such chance offering to his mind, I accept- ed of a dollar which he gave me, it being all he had, and at the same time manifested a sincere desire to give me further relief, had it been in his povrer. With the dollar I p;dd for my lodging and breakfast, and left money suffi- cient for my trunk to be brought on in the next stage-wag- gon ; this taking again all the money I possessed, I pur- sued my way on foot without being mu h burdened with the weight of my cash. I travelled on moderately, and had a leisure opportunity of taking a retrospective viev/ of my life, of the many vicissitudes to which I had been subject from my first commencing an active part upon the great stage of the world. I took a view of the virtuous and vicious among mankind, of rewards and punishment, as tl.ey were distributed through the world, and could find no general rule in v>hich rewards were given to vir- tue and punishments to > ice, but that good and ill forlune was promiscuously scattered through the world without any reference to virtue, merit, or vice. I at this mofnent examined my own heart to see whether I was suffering :'. punishment due to any evil which I had done ; I cnre- 108 MEMOIRS OF fulljr viewed all the transactions of my life, and the mo- tives which actuated me to their performance, and after canvaSsinf^ the subject maturely, I could not find an accu- sation that my heart brought against mc. That I had done-v/rong in many instances, through imprudence, the impetuosity of feelings, and a misconception of things, I was perfeet'y sensible ; but that it had unifornjly and ever been my desire to render good, rather than evil, and to avoid injuring every person, so far as my judgment would serve, was a truth my whole soul responded to with pleasure. Why then it was, that my fortune through life sliould be marked with such striking instances of misery, was a mystery to me in the dispensations of events, that I could not reconcile to my feelings of right and wrong. These reflections had so wholly engrossed my mind, that T had almost forgotten my situatien, until I was aroused from this reverie by the calls of hunger. I had now walk- ed on till almost night without eating, and began to grow faint and hungry. What to do I did not know. Money I had none, and to ask for victuals like a common beggar, was a mortification I was loth to submit to ; yet this was the only alternative to which I could have recourse ; and observing a large house near the way side, I was deter- mined to make my first essay in it. I accordingly fortifi- ed my mind with all the resolution possible, to go through the operation, and then made my way into the house. I found the inside of the house elegant and well furnished, and a lady sitting in the front room, who appeared to be the mistress of the house ; notwithstanding all the resolu- tion 1 hud m-astered on this occasion, I had almost failed of making the attempt of asking for victuals, and had de- termined once in my own mind to leave the house without mentioning any business which brought me there; but fiuclly I made my request known. My coL\ntenance, which was always a strong index to my feelings, I believe ?t this time betrayed my inward sensations. The lady immediately ordered her servants to set the table ; while the J vyere laying the cloth, I perceived the curiosity of such a request, coming from a person genteelly dressed, and whose mamiers were not of that rough nuturc as those STEPHEN BURROUGHS. l>^ '^'i common beggars, had raised an anxiety in her mind to know more of my circumstances, and the reason why I \i'as in the situation in which 1 then appeared. She said, '• I presume, sir, you have been unfortunate.'* I knew the purport of her question, and this question was appvir- ently asked for the purpose of knowing hotv to give relief. 'io see the immediate promptness with which she sought to reheve me. to see her solicitude to know in what man- ner she could afford me farther relief than by supplymg me with food for the present moment, had divested me of all resolution, had reduced my feelings to a woman's weakness, and it was with difficulty I restrained a shower of tears; so that I was unable to return her any other an- swer to her question, than " Yes, madam." My feelings had taken such a turn as to divest me of an appetite, which a few minutes before was very great, so th.\t I was unable to make but a sorry med, from a full table. Her frequent invitations to eat, and anxiety to know if any thing else would suit me better, but added to my present exquisite feelings, and it was with the greatest difficulty, I uttered the monosyllable " No." After I had finished my repast, I arose to depart, '.when she gave me a warm invitation to t.^.rry until Doctor IVIaxwell came home, (vrho I found was her husband) and he would, she said, endeavor to relieve me from my difficulty ; but finding I did not incline to tarry, she desired me to stop a moment, and immediately fetched from another room two dollars and half of a French crown, with a desire that I would accept them, adding, she was sorry it was out of her power of doing more, by the Doctor's being absent. This was too much for my 1 esclution to support. The tears, which had for a long lime been restrained, now foond free vent, in spite of ev- ery effort to the contrary. I v/as unable to speak : I bow- ed and retired. Never did a wretch in the hour of dan- ger more fervently pray for his own salvation, than I did for the peace and happiness of this ornament of human nature. Yes, thou lovely image of the God of benevo- lence ! may ihy gentle bosom never feel the corroding pang of sorrow, but happiness, exquisite happiness, be thy Jievcr failing portion. y 1 10 MEMOIRS OF I travelled, until half after nine o'clock at niglu, and put up at the housa of a g-cnilcn>an by the name of Black, where I was treated with the utmost hospitality and atten- tion^ Here I had recovered my appetite so as to eat a very hearty supper, and the next morning I breakfiisted as hear- tily again. Mr. Black g.ive me a warm invitation to spend the day with him, v/hich I declined, and calling for ray bill, he bid me welcome to the whole, telling me he was happy anytime in waiting upon gentlemen at his house, and wish- ed ire to call whenever I came that way again. I travelled, on from thence without any thing further occurring wor- thy of remark, until I arrived at Chesteriown, having mo- ney sufficient to pay my expenses thus far. Here again I was reduced to the. want of a penny ; and knowing I must do something, or give up all further hopes of success, I determined t j try my luck among some of the people of eminence in Chestertown, by stating my wants to them, and working upon their philanthropy. I accordingly wait- ed upon Mr. Ferguson, principal of the College in that town, with an account of my circumstances, and to my great satisfaction, he told me he vould advance five dollars, if that would be of any service. Tliis give me an oppor- tunity of taking the stage-v/aggon again for Baltimore,' as my trunk had by this time come on. I accordingly took my leave of this worthy friend to humanity, and seiout for . Baltimore^ where I arrived the same day, and put up at the house of one Stark. Here again I found myself in my common situation, (viz.) destitute of money. I found the way in which I had travelled to bcJiie m.ost expensive way of any ; and of course, prudence dictated the plan of trying if possible to obtain money sufficient to carry me through my journey, by water, which would be a much cheaper conveyance. I accordingly applied to several merchants, one after another, who had connexions in Nevr-England, to advance me twenty-five dollars, and take a draught for the same upon some of my friends there ; l^ut my appM- cation was fruitless. After shewing that great fondness for knowing all the particulars relating to my situation, ' which is peculiar to New-England characters, they appear- ed to be satisfied, -and calmly told mc that it did not com- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 1 1 1 ponwith their vie\y to help me to any money. I had tried such a number of my^ countrymen and failed of success, that I almost despaired of obtaining any further supplies, and concluded that here my trarels must end ; yet one more expedient came into my mind. I had found, as will be perceived by the relation already given, that the native inhabitants of Maryland possessed that noble hospitality which was more conspicuous in them than in any of the people of states in which I had been ; I therefore conclud- ed to apply for once to some chai'acter who was a nativ^ inhabitant of Baltimore. 'I accordingly waited on Luther IVIartin, Esq. Attorney-General of the state, who immedi- ately, upon knowing my desire, answered with all that god- like nobleness of humanity, which appears greater than royal pomp, that I should have what money I. wanted. This threv/ me into such a delirium ot ecstacy, that I hard- ly knew what I said or did. He counted me out thirty dollars at my request; and when I came to write an obli- gation for the same, my whole nervous system was in such a tremor, I could not execute the business. Mr. Martin perceived it, and relieved me by doing it himself. He, to add to his hospitality, politely invited me to dine with him that day, it being then early in the morning, which invita- tion I accepted. I now considered myself in u situation capiible of performing the long wished for, the long sought for object of my desires, ('viz.)|to arrive in Georgia, at the residence of my friend Huntington, where I had no doubt of every necessary assistance, both for present n^ed and future prospects in business. I accordingly applied at the \Vharves for a vessel bound to Georgia, but found none go- ing short of eight or ten days ; this was somewhat of a dis- appointinent, on account of the delay ; but supposing I had money sufficient to pay my expenses in town for that length of time, and likewise the passage, I felt tolerably content- ed. At noon I went and dined vnih ]ftr. Martin ; but not jefore I had met with somewhat of a singular accident. Saving a little leisure on my hands from the time of mak- ng the necessary inquiry for a passage, till noon, I took a itrojl through the town, in order to take a view of it, and '.he '-""^li'- buildings in a p:irticulur manner. After view- H2 MEMOIRS OF - ing the market-house, church, &c. I went to view the jail. Whilst I was taking a look at it, there came a gallows looking fellow out of that part of the building, which was occupied as a dwelling-house, and in a very imperious tone, demanded my business. The looks of this fellow plainly demonstrated him to be a candidate for a patient of a public executioner. I answered his demand with this reply, *' that my curiosity had led me there to take a view of the building, and if I was not transgressing any rules of the place, still wished to gratify my curiosity." lie made me no answer, but went into the house, and soon there came out an elderly looking man, genteelly dressed, and politely desired to know if I wished to see the jail. My answer being in the affirmative, he told me he would give me every assistance in pointing out whatever was worth observation. I gratefully accepted his offer, and we took a turn through the jail and garden adjoining, where we took a seat at his desire. Here he entered into a detail of some of the crimes of the prisoners, and among the rest related the adventures of one Davis, who was then in confinement for theft. I asked what sort of a man Da- vis was for height, looks, £cc. and told him I knew a man by that name in the eastern states, but not of his descrip- tion, v.'ho had left the eastern for the southern states. As . the time had now elapsed for my being at Mr. Martin's, I told the person who was eiving me these lengthy ac- counts, that being engaged to dine with a gentleman by particular invitation, I felt myself under a necessity of leaving him ; but if he would drink anything for his trou- ble it should be at his service. He requested to know with whom I was going to dine. This question I con- ceived to be a piece of impertinence, but could not yet think it was designed, and therefore told him. Upon this he told mc he was well acquainted wiih Mr. Martin, and that he would not dine for two hours yet to come, and wished me to sit with him yet longer. This request in such a manner, attended with the circumstance of his im- pertinent question, made me conclude his company would be no longer gratifying, and I accordingly told him I should not stay any .longer. I arose from my seat to go STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 1 1 S through the house, as that was the only way out of the garden, and he followed me. When I came into the house, and was met by the first person, who accosted me about my business, and he, together with the other, caught hold of me, and told me I must stop. At this time there came four more likewise out of the room adjoining. My indignation at this treatment was aroused, and I told them that whatever their prospects might be about abusing and robbing me, they would find to their cost they had the wrong person in tow, and that should their bankrupt cir- cumstances prevent any remedy by civil process, yet a criminal prosecution should teach them to use strangers with common civility. At this, there appeared another character, who styled himsQif a magistrate, and inquired into my coming chere Rnd asking after Davis. I told hiiu if he v/ished to know the matter for any valuable purpose, I would tell him ; but if he wished to be an instrument in carrying on the farce of rascality which had been be.jun, I felt no disposition to give him an answer. He protested his innocence as relating to any farce, suid that this Davis had been apprehended v/ith strong suspicions of his having accomplices, and that therefore it was ordered by the court, to apprehend any peraon who should come and inquire af- ter him. I then related the circumstances which bro'jght me there, and why I asked concerning Davis; at this the magistrate concluded I might be dismissed. After I had departed, and came to reflect upon the farce which had been acted, the humor of the circumstances, and the per- fect propriety with which every character had played his part, it raised a laughable disposition in my mind, and dissipated every feeling of revenge which I had before entertained. The next morning I thought it necessary to look into th& state of expenses which would attend my ten days residence, and accordingly applied for my bill] at the tavern, which to my astonishment amounted to three dol- lars and a half. Finding this to be the case, I concluded it neccssaiy to decamp immediately, while 1 had any money remaining to carry me away. ' VOL. H. L 114 MEMOIRS OF Not beins^ able to obtain a water passage, I again be- ;ook myself to the stage-waggon, and continued my course to Alexandria in Virginia, without any material occurrence. Here I put up at Wise's tavern, and found that the stage would not travel south from here, for the space of six days, therefore was reduced to the necessity of tarrying that term of time. During this I found my tavern expen- ses, together with what I had already paid, would swallow up all my money with which I had calculated to reach Georgia, Accordingly I became extremely embarrassed, and began to cast in my mind some way to extricate my- self from the difficulty. Matters being thus situated, there came a gentleman into my room, belonging to the back part of Virginia, and offered me a tract of land, con- taining 25,000 acres. Immediately a thought occurred to my mind, suggested by the impulse of necessity, viz. to get this land into my hands, and with the avails there- of to ansvrcr my present necessities, ai:>d after a course of time discharge the demand which might occur in conse- quence of the purchase. I inquired the price at which he held the land. He informed me that he held his land at fourteen pence the acre. Intending to buy so cheap as to be able to sell again upon such terms as to be in a condi- tion to discharge my debt, if such should occur, I replied to this amount, " thai being on a journey I did not carr)^ money about me for such an extensive purchase ; but if he felt himself willing to take my obligations to become due, one third in three months, one third in six, and one third in nine months, I would take his land at a shilling- per acre ; and more than that I would not give. After sonve debate upon the subject, the person (his name is gone from my memory) concluded to embrace my offer, and accordingly writings were made and executed, and I invested with this extensive tract of land upon the credit of my own obligations, none of whom became due short of three months. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 115 CHAP. vni. A NOW felt myself in some measure relieved from my state of penury ; but my property was in no measure in the situation which was necessary for my present circum- stances. Accordingly I began to cast about in my mmd some way to appropriate this property, or at least a part of it, to raise the necessary cash for my journey. Whilst I was under these cogitations I was accosted by a Mr. Patten, (if I remember rightly the name) a Scotch gen- tleman, for the purchase of my land, and he offered, with- out hesitation, to give me the same price which I had be- come obligated for, and to pay me cash in hand. Cash in hand, of all other offers, was what suited me the best, and I immediately closed with his offer. I made and executed the deed directly, and he counted out four thousand one hundied and sixty-six dollars, and two thirds. At this sudden and surprising reverse of fortune, my mind was in a state which I hardly know how to describe. I saw before me a heap of treasure far beyond what I had ever been the possessor of before, even in my most pros- perous days. But a momentbefore I had been at my wii's ends to know how to raibe money sufficient to cany me. out of Alexandria. Now I saw miyself, in my imagina- tion, in possession of an independent fortune, sufficient to support myself and family with economy through life ; my heart was fascinated with the prospect of being able im- mediately to return and relieve my family. I concluded upon this measure, and bid farewel to Georgia. I imme- diately applied to the stage-omce for a seat to Balliniorc, and whilst I was taking my money from my pocket to pay for a seat in the stage-waggon, it sudderily rushed into my mind, for the first time, that all the money which I then possessed would soon become due to the person of whom I bought the land. This thought dashed all my prospects in a moment, and I suffered the infinite mordfication of finding all my animating hopes of returning to my family, blasted in a moment. I withdrew my hand from my pocket, made some ex- cuse for not taking; the scat in the stage, and reiurned to m 116 MEMOIRS OF my lodgings. Here I endeavored to call my thoughts together and adjust my pursuit to my situation. A thought soon occurred of speculating upon my own paper. I therefore repaired to the man of whom I bought the land, and after some preliminary discourse, told him that I would pay him immediately, providing he would make me a hacdsome allowance. He finally agreed to allow me a discouni of one hundred and fifty dollars upon my notes, and I accordingly paid him the money. Finding myself now in possession of nearly one hundred •and fifty dollars, I again began my journey southward. In travelling through Virginia, I uniformly met with that polite attention from the gentlemen of the country, for which they are so remarkable, and which renders their society so extremely pleasing. Nothing of unusual mo- ment occurring whilst I was on my journey through this state, I shall not detain your attention with the relation of common events. In passing through North -Carolina, I put up for the night at the house of one Smead, on the banks of the Ne- us river. Being about to depart the next morning, I dis- covered my trunk broken open, and on examination, found ix bundle of fine clothes taken out, and with it one hundred nnd ten dollars, it being all my money, excepting two or ihrce dollars which I had in my pocket. I tried all measures for the recovery of my money, which offered r^nv prospect of succeeding. The Supreme Court then filling in "Wilmington, I laid the matter before Judges Ash and M'Lry. but found no ciicumstftnce of alleviation from any measures wliich I took. I was again reduced to very deplorable circumstRnces, and did not know what fur- ther to do. My cuse v.as generally kncvn. Yet no man offered to aswst mc in any measure, until a young gentle- mr.n, by the name of Huntington, and another by the name of Bowen, (a clcrp-yman) gave me sufficient to discharge riv tavern bill at Wilmington, wliich in the course of twen- ty'hourshad amounted to the enormous sum of three pounds ten shillings. The name of this conscientious Uiidiord was Dawsv. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 1 1 I cofttrActed with the skipperof a coastini^ sloop to fetch me to Charleston, in South-Carolina, for four dollars, and put my trunk into his hands as a security until I should pay him the money. We arrived soon at Charleston, and being partially acquainted with a Mr. Thayer, merchant, I applied to him, and he humanely assisted me to go on to Georgia. When I entered this town it was evening, and I looked with eager desire to behold some situation resembling such as my fancy had pictured in my own mind for my friend Huntington's. My soul was attuned to the soft harmony and tender touches of friendship. I had pictured in my mind a thousand tender expressions and pleasing obser- vations, after meeting once again, w hich would mutually pass between us. Eight years had elapsed since we had seen each other. We both had passed thix)ugh many un- usual and trying scenes during that period. We had both a great store of amusement for each other in the re- lation of our adventures, more prirticularly those where tlie feelings of the heart were deeply interested. And what greater pleasure can exist than granting pleasure to our friend ? I now fancied the end of my trymg pilgrimage had ariived, and that I should here find a resting place from further trouble. I eagerly inquired of the first man I saw for a direction to the house of Mr. Kundngton. I was in- formed that ^Ir. Huntington did not live in V\'ashington, that his family had gone to the New-England states, and that he was in South-CaroUna, or else gone on to the north- ward after them. This information was like the sentence of death. My blood revolved back to my heart in death-like chills, and I saw nothing but destruction staii?.g me fullin the face ; a total and absolute stranger, not so much as knowing a sin- gle character in this state from hearsay 5 again become destitute of money, and what further to do, or where to go, I was totally at a loss. In the room of making a sud- den establishment for my family in this country, I saw no prospect of providing for my own bare necessities. By this time you will begin to think that I was the sport and plaything of fortune, and that ^he delighted in L 2 lis MEMOIRS OF tantalizing mc v.ith false hopes in order to sec how great ^vas my fortitude to endure disappointment. However, as Esop says in the fable of the frogs, " It might be play to her, but it was death to me.*' I put up for the night at the house of our friend Teron- det, and ruminated on my situation, and upon my plan of operation for the future. I arose in the morning and be- gan to inquire of my landlord into the nature and situation of the country, and the prospect of obtaining business. I learned in the course of inquiry that the academy in this town Y,as destitute of a Rector, and that General William- •••on was Principal of the commissioners superintending the ?.cademical affairs. To hitn I therefore applied, and introduced myself as a person wishing for business, and ofivjred to act in the capacity of Rector of the academy. The General asked whether I had any credentials by which I could shew my ability as a Rector, so as to ensure liis confidence. I answered in the afTirmative, and said if he would give mean opportunity I would exhibit them. At this answer the General looked me in the face as though he was waiting for a further explanation, not yet understanding fully the mc:ining of my reply. I then ob- served that my credentials were in my head, and that I v.-anted the opportunity of one fortnight as Rector of the vicademy to give him the satisfaction which he desired. The General seemed diverted with this reply, but still was desirous for further inforniaiicn upon the subject. • I then stated to him in order the situation I was under, and the disappointment I had met with on account of not find- ing Mr. Huntington, withwhom I was particularly ac- quainted. This account gave entire satisfaction ; and I was placed immediately at the head of the academy, where I have flattered myself I have exhibited the promised creden- tials. I began my business under such circumstances as would naturally lead me to strong exertions, in order to appear with some degree of reputation at the head of this acade- my. I spared no pains to effect such a purpose, and soon brcuj^ht mv school into a state of order suSicient to en- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. are a i*apicl progress in literary improvement. My pros- pects for such a purpose ^vere not at first view of the flat- tering* kind. I found the children who frequented my school generally under t)ie care of rich parents, educated without order, sjstem or discipline ; accustomed to the most unlimited gratification of thetr passions and appe- tites, without any idea of subordination, but on the contra- ry indulged in the constant exercise of authority over the l^lacks. Notwithstanding these discouraging circum- stances, I succeeded in my undertaking beyond my most sanguine expectations. My school increased apace, and fortune for one moment was willing to smile on m.y en- deavors. I received the co-operation of the leading char- acters cf the place in the establishment of my academic discipline, together with the decided approbation of the board of commissioners, who held the funds of the acade- my, and superintended its general concerns. In order to give you some general idea of the state of literature, custom^ and manners through this state, I will describe the several characters who composed the board of commissioners, as a specimen, which will answer for k tolerable description of the people through the state. General Williamson was their president, a man by na- ture endowed with strong mental powers, bold, enterpris- ing and ambitious. His education was small, his mind was uncultivated, and liic opportunities for information in the circles of refinement were veryniuch circumscribed ; notwithstanding, from a very low beginning he made his way merely by the strength of native genius, to opulence and respectability among his countr)men. He had been a famous partizan leader during the revolutionary war, where the contest had been managed between the whigs and tories, much after the manner of the Indians, in whose neighborhood the chief scenes of slaughter and bloodshed were exhibited. From these circumstances the General had imbibed the temper cf the natives in many respects^ Strong in friendship, even to seek the life of his friend's enemy , implacable in his resentments ; patient, perse- vering and entei prising. Fond of his own family to ex- travagance, and very desirous to fit them for public scr- 120 MEMOIRS OF vice and usefulness. His family did not disappoint the warm expectations of their fond parent. His oldest son, Charles, was fast following his father in the career of mil- itary fame, and now held the commission of colonel, with much reputation ; his second, Micajah, was a major ; and his third, Peter, was a practising attorney. His oldest daughter was married to General John Clerk ; his second to John Griffin, Esq. an attorney, concerning whom more Avill soon be said ; his third, to Doctor Bird ; all these daughters were characters of very amiable manners, who would have done honor to a drawing room, in the politest circles. John Griffin, Esq. was the second commissioner of this board. He was a man of handsome, though not great a- bilities. His education had been barely sufficient for his practice at the bar. He was master of but a very partial share of knowledge in the liberal arts and sciences. He was endowed with industry and enterprise : fond of insin- uating himself into the affections of people by flattery, for effecting which, he had considerable abilities, and in return he lent a very willing ear to the flatterer. He was hospitable, humane, and benevolent, and very attentive to measures of public benefit. He had begun his career at the lov^'est state of poverty and obscurity, and by the mere dint of perseverance, had surmounted all obstacles, and raised himself to notice and estf^em. Colonel Willis held the third place among- ^^^ commissioners. He formerly represented the state of Georgia in the federal Congress. He was a man of an amiable heart, of the most friendly and benevolent disposition, but somewhat versatile in his pursuits, and not the most accurate economical calculator. Doctor Rustin was an automaton in this and every other society. Mr. Terondet, a Frenchman by birth, who bore the character of a good honest thriving man, without any other recommendations or disqualifications which were calculated to claim the attention of mankind. I received an invitation from General Williamson to make my abode with him, having three of his children un- der mv care. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 131 I had not long resided in this town before I began to leam the leading objects of the principal characters in- habiting this state. I found a rage for land speculation, which absorbed the attention of all classes. This in the first instance had been a business conducted upon a fair scale, and attended with vast profit : at that stage it was managed by ii few ; but at length the business, from which -such great profit being derived, becoming known, all were seized with the mania of rushing suddenly into immense wealth, and the most nefarious schemes were put in prac- tice to defraud a credulous world with the idea of becom- ing interested in the excellent soil of Georgia lands. Cor- ruption had proceeded so far as to produce an open and no- torious violation of all the public offices established for the regulation of the sale of ungranted lands. Hence, millions of acres, which never bud existence, were sold in the other states, and to foreigners ; and millions more were sold many times over by the same person. Such in- iquity could not remain long undiscovered; strangers in some measure becan>e acquainted with the frauds of Geor- gin, and of course the proutscf these speculations ce?.sed. The greatest part of the state of Georgia remained yet uninhabited, and under the Indian claims. This tract of land extended the distance of four hundred and fifty miles west, to the river Mississippi, and cr itained the most fer- tile soil in the southern st-^.tes. A scheme was concerted by a number, who formed themEelves into companies for the purpose, to purchase the pre-emption of the state to the greater part of these lands. General Gunn, Senator in the Tederal Congress, was tlie leading character of these companies. This association produced a counter combi- nution among a number of others, at the head of whom was Mr. Few, former member of Congress from this s>tate, and quondam Governor. The purport of this asso- ciaiicn was to outbid or otherwise gain the purch?.se of this land to themselves, from the other companies. At the sitting of the Legislature in Au.s:usta, the town ">.is cro^yded with characters who were interested in this 'siness. The spirit of the two parties had become wainn iu viiiimated, and all the arts of intrigue, corruption unci 122 MEMOIRS OF venality were put in practice by both parties to carry their farorite point. Gunn and his associates were ultimately successful, to the great mortification and resentment of the others. This was a signal of al^arm which aroused the individual inhabitants of the whole state to take an active part in the contest. The triumphant party were not anx- ious to carry their animosities to any greater length against their opponents. They had gained the prize, and were willing that the disappointed party should console them- selves by bitter invectives and murmurs. Gunn and his party obtained grants from the state to the amount of twenty-two millions of acres of a most fertile and pleasant country. The exertions of the disappointed party produced an ef- fect, perhaps never before known under any government. They bestirred themselves ao effectually as to obtain a very decided majority of members of the legislature at the next election, a year after the grant was made to Gunn and others, and to the astonishment of all mankind, they rescinded the act of the former Legislature, erased it from their records, an:l declared it to be null and void ; not- withstanding the grantees had actually paid the purchase money long before into the state treasury, and had disposed of much of their lands to various characters through the union. This session of the Legislature assumed judiciaiy pow- ers, examiried v.itnesses concerning the means of obtain- ing the grant, and proceeded to declare, that the grantees had obtained their grants by bribery and corruption, and that of course the grants were null and void. However, to return from this digression, I found my school increase apace, and some of the best geniuses were discovered in this academy that ever fell under my instruc- tion, particularly a daughter of General Williamson, of the age of fifteen, i he brilliancy of her wit, the strength of her mind, and the amiable disposition of her heart, were objects of the most pleasing kind. I will now present you with a course of letters which have passed between me' and my friends since I left the state of New-York. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 123 Charlton, Sept. 10, 1794. To Mr. WILLIAM HALSEY, Bridghampton. According to our arrangements, I embrace the first op- portunity of giving you information of my situation, that you may communicate the same to Mr. Burroughs as soon as you can gain intelligence of the place of his residence. My father has made comfortable provision for me and my children, in a house adjoining to my brother-in-law, who keeps a store of general assortments, to which I have access without restraint, on my father's account. My friends treat me with attention and pity, without any of that gall of bitterness which is apt to attend on one in dependent circumstances. Application has been made by Mr. Burroughs' parents to have my oldest child, Edward, lire ^vith them. I ex- pect he will set out from here for such a purpose, next week. My mind is filled with constant anxiety on the account of Mr. Burroughs. I have heard nothing from him since I left Long-Island upon which I can depend. Many re- ports are prevailing here of the most disagreeable kind, re- specting him. Some say he is in the prison of New-York, and some say he is not in prison, but spending his time in rioting and drunkenness, without any attention to me or his family. Probably it is thought that these reports may gain a standing in my mind, and cause me much pain. But those who suggest them are not so well acquainted with facts as they ought to be, or else they would never harbor or sur- mise such disagreeable ideas. You will wonder at my feeling disagreeable when you take into consideration, that our separation was produced by the blackest malice of a few who call themselves the children of God, but to others it appeared that they were the children of the devil, whose ready service they per- formed. You may think my expressions uncharitable, possibly; but, sir, consider I am wounded in a tender point, and con- 124 MEMOIRS OF sider this is a truth which I have felt with the liveliest sen- sations. To be separated in such a manner from a kind and tender husband ; to see him banished from his family, thrown out again into the open world in a state of the most destitute poverty, exposed to difficulties in every shape. May truth be his guide through every scene. These things present to our view this picture of human nature, viz. feeble in itself, liable to so many casualties ; tortured with so many pains ; visited by so many maladies ; crazed with so many cares ; worn down by so many sorrows ; so dependent on others for succor, relief and consolation : but truth possesses the power to revive, improve and ma- ture the feelings of humanity. The spirit of truth is a spirit of commiseration and charity, therefore let selfish- ness be done away ; let benevolence be cultivated., let truth, pure and undenled, be maintained, and we need not fear but ministering angels Mill be found in every clime, who, under the influence of truth, will wipe away tears, assuage pain, and hand the cup of consolation to the broken-heart- ed. I remain your humbe servant in esteem, SALLY BURROUGHS. To the Rev. EDEN BURROUGHS. Charlton^ June I6thj 1794. Dear BnofHER^ I received a letter from Sally, by a messenger from Long-Island, dated the 9th inst. by which I understood that the difficukies prevailing at the time of our being there had increased to such a degree as to destroy the, prospect of your son's supporting his family in that place, and ac- cordingly he leit there about one month since, for Georgia, and does not expect to return to live on the island auy more. He had to leave his family destitute ot money or provision, and his wife near being confined in chiid-bed ill- ness. She was under the necessity of applying to the over- seers of the poor for relief She is desirous of returning from the island, as she is uncertain when her husband will be able to assist her, or move her away. I shall go next week to fetch her and children to Charlton. I thought it STEPHEN BURROUGHS. i25 probable you might wish to have one of the Uule boys live %vith you ; for should your son ever get into such circu di- stances to the southward as to send for his wife, I think it would be imprudent to move the children into that un- healthy climate. I wish you would write to me on the sub- ject. I remain your affectionate brother, EBENEZER DAVIS. To Mr. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. Bridghampton^ June 9th, 1794. Dear Sii?y You will undoubtedly wish to know my situation by the first opportunity, and therefore I shall not neglect this, al- though it may be, you may never receive this letter, for I do not altogether depend on the certainty of its conveyance. Our youngest child, which is a daughter, was born on the 4th of May, and is well ; the rest of the family in usual health, myself excepted, being something out of health through a state of debility. I have heard nothing from our relations in Charlton since you left me. I made ap- plication to Esq. Rogers, the overseer of the poor, and he contributed to my relief, but soon the two engines of cru- elty, Hurlbut and Pierson, commenced their attacks upon Mr. EliasHalscy, and have demanded security of him for all the costs arising from my maintenance, together with that of the children, on account of his being the first who rented us a house without giving due notice to the over- seers of the poor. Mr. Halscy is totally ignorant what measures to take in this busines3, and the two justices say that they will positively have him carried to jail to-mor- row if he don't comply with their demand. The buiiinesi; has come to that crisis that I see no other way but to re- turn to my friends at Cliarlton, for nothing v/ill answer the demands of the two justices against Mr Ha'sey but my removal. It is like death to me to be under the ne- cessity of returning and to be treated as I shall by my re- lations. I had rather work like a slave for my own and children's support, therefore I beg you would make the time as short as possible before you come or send aftei- VOL. II. M '26 MEMOIRS or rxTc, and not think of revenging the injuries you have suf- cred. by that wlich will bring the calamity on me and the . hildrcn. My blood runs cold to think what I yet have £;;otto pass through ! I cannot rest, by night or day ; my trouble almost bereaves mc of my senses. My little boys oth stand by and ask v.hat mamma cries so much for, .nd wish daddy would come home. Poor children, they liitle know the afflictions of their parents. I beg of you ])0t to wait for a state of affluence before you send for me, A state of poverty is much more tolerable, than living ^Tithout where I am going. Make i: your own case, my dear, and often read this that you may not forget, for one day, that you have a wife and children, who lovg to see you ?nd live with you. My head is in such confusion that I hardly know what I VyTite, but let me once more remind you to make the time as short as possible before you pro- vide me with a home, where we may both live together. Let me entreat you by the ties of love and friendship, by the tender feelings of a parent, to shorten our affliction as much as possible. I feel great anxiety on account of your health. The climate to which you have bent your course is so unsaluta- ry, and your constitution so broken and worn down with sickness and misfortune, that I tremble for the event. 2^d. Since I wrote the above I have heard from my father. He is coming to move me back to Charlton. On "Wednesday next he will be here. What a meeting shall ^ve have ! God only knows my feelings on this occasion. I wish you would not delay one moment to write after you have received this. I should rest much easier, could I licar from you but one word. I scarce know how to end my letter. There seems to be a kind of melancholy plea- sure in writing to you, although it is uncertain whether you ever receive the letter. I am much more out of health than when I began the letter. A universal debility, ac- companied with night sweats, attends me constantly. The rest of the family are Y.ell, the infant excepted, which is extremely restless and unquiet. I remain, dear sir, your lovins: and affectionate wife, SALLY BURROUGHS. STEPHEN BtfRROUGIIS. :-: To the Rev. EDEN BURROUGHS. Sejit. ^ith, 1794. Honored jyo dzar SiRy I have made a number of iritis to commimicate letters to you, but not receivinjj any answer, I presume they have f.alexl. This day being in the post-office and looking- over the books, I there saw Hanover made a post town, there- fore am writing this letter to ledge in the oirice in this pi ice, expecting it will go to you immediately. liov/ my leaving the state of New-York for Georgi.i appears to ycur view, I cannot even conjecture ; but when you come to be informed that the cruel persecution, v. liich I suffered when you was in that state, increased to such a degree as to ruin my circuitistances and reduce me to poverty ; under this situation you will not wonder at my wishing for a peaceable retreat from such a btorm, that I might provide for my family a comfoi table subsis- tence. During my jonmey to this country, I met with a varie- ty of incidents as is usual forme, und some of them of a peculiar nature ; yet they are now past and gone, and on- ly leave an impression on my mind f^int as the dreams of the night. My present situation is easy and agreeable, one rircumtitance excepted, viz. the separation from my family. I have heard nothing from them since I lell Lcng-Island. I shudder with horror to think of thcii* situation. I beg you to afford thenl wha^ assistance you can, until I can obtain a situation to grant tixcm relief my- f.tif. wliich I hope will not be long. Huntington is gone 1 foretergone ! Ke died in Charles- ion, Scuth-Coroiina, of a putrid fever. I was informed that he resigricd himself to his approaching fute, ofwhicii he was sensible sometime before his dissolution, w'ldx fortitude and calmness. *• Death lets down the curtain, and the piay is ended." I saw Mr. Niles in Philadelpliia, the particuh\rs of which he has undoubtedly stated to you, lonj; before this, I remain with sentiments of duty, your affecdona^e son STEPHEN BURROUGHS.' -■:' MEMOIRS OF To Mr. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. Nar.ox'cr, ( ?J'eii- Hampshire^) Dec. 31, 1794. A few days ago I received yours, bearin,^ date on the iI8th September, which is the only letter that has come to hand &ince your departure from the northern states. The care of your family being undoubtedly the object :;:'-it is uppermost in your mind, I will intonn you what I : ov.' concerning them, without holding you in suGpense J- saying any more previous to such information. Your /dest son is at irty hou^e, and has resided with me for Lout three months. He has the privilege of a school, •. iiich he ccniitantiy attends. He appears to make good rolitifRcy in learning. I find him lo b« a pleasant and omising child, and should be highly pleased at keepin?.; ::m with me unill he ariivestoa state of m:.nhood, I'i such . ihing might comport with your pleasure. Your spouse now resides vriih her family in Charlton. Her father, upon hearing of her straitened circumstances on the island, went and moved her, and made comfortable provision for aer near by. The last news from thence V as, that she and family were well. It has ever been a matter of speculation and surprise to '.5, that Divine Providence has opened such a door among -:'.rangers, and in such a distant part, for your being useful ) mankind ?.nd of advantage to yourself The voice con- L.ined in such a providence is, in my view, like the inter- cssicn which the dresser of the vineyard made in behalf ot the barren fig-tree, " Lord, let it alone this year, till I shall dig about it &nd dung it."'' The bov.cls of a father, and the piercing affections of a mother do yet constrain us to entreat you to keep this ever in view, that after all the trouble and anguish which you have undergone, and which v.e have suffered on your ac- count, we may in the decline of our days be comforted with the tidings, that you have learned wisdom and obedi- ence to the calls of your Divine Master, who commands vou to give up all for his sake. It is our heart's desire and prayer to God, that in the whole of your pursuits you STEPHEN BURROUGHS. i:v vUiily remember that one thing is needful, and that this is life eternal to know the only true God, and Jesus Christ >yhom he has sent. I forgot to mention in its proper pkice, that in due tim.c after you left Lone:-Island, a daughter was born unto you, "Nvhois ^rell. Upon your informing that you saw Mr. Niles in Philadelphia, I felt surprised he had not men- tioned it to me at Commencement, which is the only time I have had an interview with him in the interval of his be- ing absent from Congress. In your letters from Georgia, it will be acceptable to have you pay particular attention to an account of every thing noticeable in the country, as soil, climate, productions, and especially the manners of the people, and whether there be any thing that looks like religion among them. It wouldlikewise be highly grati- fying to have an account of your own sentiments upon the subject of religion. I am sensible you have been under a temptation to conclude that there is nothing in religion, from the treatment you have received fi-oni its profcssoi's. You know it has been my established sentiment for these nfiany years, that we ought not to form- an estimate of re- ligion from its professors. Let them dishonor this glori- ous cause ever so much, they cannot diminish the impor- tance of it. We shall one day stand convicted, that if a man should gain the whole world and lose his own soul, it would profit him nothing. We shall wait with much longing desire till we receive another letter from you ; mean while we rest your affectionate parents, E. &c A. BURROUGHS. To the Rev. EDEN BURROUGHS. Jugusta^ Feb. 24fkj 1795. Honored and dear Paren^s^ Yours of the 31st December came safe to hand yester- day, and with the most heartfelt satisfaction I obtained in- formation for the first time, from my unfortunate family. The hiird h:\nd of misfortune has compelled mc to niiss m2 130 MEMOIRS OF through difficulties unparalleled in the history of man ; yet ciinoni^ all i-ny misfortunes, none so intolerable as the separation from my family, and more especiuily my sep- aration at such a juncture. God of nature, what a pros- pect 1 When I heard they were comfortable, and settled in an agreeable situation by Mrs. Burrough's father, the weight of a mountain was removed from my mind, and I felt an ardor of gratitude to my f.\ther-in-law beyond description, v.ndif I had the riches of India, I would have poured them into his p-osocssion. ! have left the academy in Wash- ington, and am bound to a town called P'redcrica, on the inland of St. Sim.oes, to do business for a company of mer- chants In Philadelphia. The prospect in this line is more fiattcrhig, as it offers a more immediate establishment for my family. In obedience to your desire, I should write the pwrticu- l?.r5 relating to things worthy of notice in this country, but as I have kept a journal of all the particulars of my travels, incorpoi-ated with remarks upon every subject worthy of notice, which came under my view, I have de- termined to send you the journal as soon as an opportunity for a conveyance offers. This will give a more extensive view of the subject than is possible to do by letter. The religion of Georgia consists in every man's doing that which is right in his own eyes. Dissipation and li- rtnticusness reign here triumphant. This is the worst side of the character of the Georgians. They are hospita- ble, humane and courteous in the extreme. As to my own sentiments of religion, you may find them comprised in the following line from Pope : " An honest man's the noblest work of God ;" and this honesty consists in follow- ing the law cf our own mhid, without depending on the dogmas of others. I remiain, with sentiments of filial af- fection, vour dutiful son, S. BURROUGHS STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 131 To the Rev. EDEN BURROUGHS. Fhiladel^ihia, May 2 3 cf, 1795 = Honored and dear FAREsrs, I have been in this city for the space of six weeks. I have not written to you, owing to the daily uncertainty of the time when I should leave here. It is now determined thiit I shall spend the summer in this place ; I therefore hasten to give you what information relating to my pros- pects and present situation is in my power to communi- cate. I shall leave here early in the fall for the province of Louisiana. If possible I shall make a visit to my fami- ly before my departure ; however, it is yet problematical Vy-hether I shall be able to effect sach a desirable object. I wish that all the information relating to my family, you would communicate to me in the minutest manner. I have not as yet received any mteiligence from them, ex- cepting what is conveyed in your letters. I anxiously wish to see my little boy now with you, but God only knows whether I shall ever be gratified. You may think my foolish fondness on this subject^ betokens the exercise of little manly reason ; however, I console myself under the indulgence of such feelings, with the instance of like conduct in no less a man than Agesilaus, king of Sparta ; being caught one day riding a reed with his" children, he desired the man to say nothing on the subject until he liad become the father of children himself. For one moment turn your attention to my present sit- uation. But little more than a year since, I was in this city on ray route to Georgia, and under such circumstan- ces as to give the most exquisite pain at taking them into consideration at this tim.e. I have since been at the head of an academy in Georgia with some reputation. I left it to the regret of parents and students. I then entered in- to business for a company of merchants. This business I performed to their satisfaction, which finally brought me to this city. A new train of events succeeding, I am de- tained here through the summer, and my course turned to Louisiana. What a scene of fluctuation. IVIy life is, and has been, uniformly irregular. All these things have 152 MEMOIRS OF taken place by unforeseen events, which no human pru- dence could prevent. No man longs more passionately for domestic ease and retirement from the bustle of the world, and no man at pres- ent appears to be a greater remove from it ; for so long as I hftve a family unprovided for, I must encounter such ob- jects as offer a prospect for such a purpose, and if I at last prove unsuceessful, I shall have this consolation, that I have done all in my power. My residence in Louisiana probably will continue a number of years. My first stage will be New-Orleans; from thence I shall endeavor to open a channel of com- munication. With the most unfeigned desire for your felicity, I remain your dutiful son, STEPHEN BURROUGHS. To Mr. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. Hayiover^ K. H.June \Wi^ 1795. Dear Child^ Yours of the 23d of May is just come to hand ; and though an acceptable present, it fills us with concern in relation to your future welfare in life, while it constrains us to view you as a ship tossed on the ocean, with an un- certainty where it will reach the land, or whether it will ever arrive on shore, without being dashed by the sur- rounding billovys, or wrecked on the quicksands. ^ But amidst the pain of our anxiety for you, we are sensible it ever becomes us to leave you to the guidance of the prov- idence of that God, whose kingdom rules over all. -x. If vour trust is in him, and your heart is truly waiting on him, you will surely find in the issue, that his name is a strong tower.*'^^ In relation to your family, I believe you have reason to make yourself perfectly easy and quiet respecting their situation. So far as I can learn, their circumstances are as easy as may be expected. We received a letter from your spouse about one month since, intimating comforta- STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 133 We tidings in relation to the Jicalth and situation of the family. Your little son appears to be of an uncommonly spright- ly mind, and makes good progress in learning. It would, beyond all doubt, be exceedingly gratifying to your fi\mily to receive a visit from you this summer ; it would be pe- culiarly so to us. But at the same time we cannot refrain to remind you, that your judgment and not your affections ought to govern you in this respect. We ever wish you to conduct not only with that integrity, but also with that discretion, economy and prudence, as to render yourself v.'ortlry- of the confidence of any gentlemen who may have occasion to commit any part of their concerns to your trust :.nd management. -^^ You v.iii be mindful to iniprove opportunities to write to us during your continuance in Philadelphia. It will perhapy be the only channel through which your family can gain information from you. When you shall remove into the Spanish dominions^ the greater distance will but increase our desires to receive as frequent information from you as you can attend to communicate. Remember that 0/2!? thing is needful; and receive this as a signal of parental regard from your affectionate parents, E. and A. BURROUGHS. ^ To the Rev. EDEN BURROUGHS. Pkiladeljihia^ June 23d, 1795. Honored and dear Parent's, Yours of the 12ih was handed to me this morning, hav- ing been in the city some days, owing to a mistake of its having tallen into the hands of one ol the same name living in this city. My situation remains yet permanent, and will pmbably so continue until October, when I shall again be on the wing of fluctuation. Some things of a public nature have transpired, which, if founded in fact, will h'..ve an influence upon my future prospects, viz. Spain, it is said, has entered into a treaty with Erance, by which they 234 MEMOIRS OF have ceded the province of Louisiana to the French. This information I had from Mr. Adet, the new French ambas- sador. M. La Count, another diplomatic character, de- clared that the Mississippi would be laid open to the A- mericans without restrictions. Should this be the case, a great change in the situation which I shall there occupy ^vill necessarily follow, and the danger to which I should have been subject, in a measure be removed. The shafts of malignity are hurled at me with some de- gree of rancour, by some of my northern /r/tno?.?, who are in this city ; yet they have hitherto apperaxd to prove harmless. How they may operate, is yet in the womb of futurity. Your letter hris produced such an effect upon my ner- vous system, thut I can hardly guide a pen, so strange is the eflecton my feelings; and this weakness I nnd daily increasing. I ever fell a sacrifice to too great a degree oi sensibility. To hear my family w^ere comfortable ; that my little Edward was doing well ; to reflect, at the same time, upon my own siui.aicn, absent from rny family and dearest connexions, traversing the immeasureable wilds of my destiny, produced a confused chaos of pleasure, in- termixed with the keenest pain, and a something more, that is indescribable. Pray excuse my incoherent method of writing. You will undoubtedly ask vrhy I write at this moment ? the only answer I have is, that I am more un- happy in any other situation ; it serves to Ccdm the boiling passions of a turnultuated mind. I hear my sister is keep- ing a school; may she never feel those deahlike stings of remorse, arising from the treatment of an ungrateful v.orld, for whom she has spent her lime i.nd strength, as has fallen to the lot of her unhappy brother. 1 he probability is, that Congress will be sooner call^U together, than the time of their adjournment, owing^^laN^a" treaty between this country and Grec:t Britain. Should such an event take place, I shall undoubtedly see Mr. Niles, by whom I will transmit a more particular detail of my prospects, Sec. by going into the Spanish dominions. That our times and changes are fixed and unalterable by the everlasting laws of n&turc, is what I most firmly be-. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. 135 liere ; and therefore to remain quiet under whatever sit- uation we may find ourselves, is a duty no less apparent. To moralize thus is easy, but to reduce it to practice, is truly difficult, when I find the storm of adversity bursting with impending ruin over my head.— -••^ Whether in prosperity or adversity, your welfare lies near my heart, even next to that of my own family. Be- fore I was married, adversity was supportable ; but to fill the cup of misery to the brim, that I might drain it to the dregs, I was destined to be connected to a woman worthy of every blessing, and calculated to render me entirely happy ; then to be torn from her under the most horrid circumstances of complicated misery; to leave her, to- gether with my darling infants, unprotected in a savage world ! ! ! Adieu. S. BURROUGHS. To JOHN GRIFFIN, Esq. Washington, Georgia. Hanover^ May 20rA, 1797. Dear Sir, ^ I snatch a hasty moment to communicate this one par- ticular, viz. that after tumbling and tumbling, I have tum- bled at last into the bosom of my family. I now behold around my fireside, my wife and children, paientsand sis- ters, with pleasure pictured on every countenoace. This is a scene at which I tremble when I view it, lest ficlj.le fortune should chance to hear m.y exultation; from writ- ing long on this subject, and again dash the cup of pleas- ure, with wormwood and gali. I close, wishing you ev- ery degnse of happiness. STEPHEN BURROUGHS. P. S. The foregoing memoirs were prepared for the press, several years ago. It was expected, as they had lain so long on hand, that the author would have made some additions, before the work was published. But as 136 MEMOIRS OF, See. none have been received, and as the public are impatient to see the book, the proprietor of the manuscript thinks it ungenerous to keep them any longer in suspense. And as the reader will naturally inquire, " Where is Bur- roughs now, and what is he about ?'* it may be proper in this place to answer that question. Mr. Burioughs has been, for two or three years past, managing a farm, and certain mills, in the town of Stanstead, near the lake Mem- phremagog, within the bounds of Lower Canada. The xnills, &c. belong to his father-in-law, a respectable gen- tleman of Massachusetts. And it is believed he is entire- ly satisfied with his son-in-law's conduct, in the business. At present, Mr. Burroughs is turning his attention to the study of physic. The reader is also informed, that the letter in the note, page 44, was written by Judge Havens. Boston, Jan. 1804. FINIS. S E Ig U E ]L TO THE MEMOIRS OF STEPHEN BUtlROUGHS, yiEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED. [This Fragnfent of the preceding Memoirs was not received by tl)e publisher in time to be introduced in its proper place. It comes in betv.-een the 4th and 5th line from the bottom of fae 122d page of the second volume.] I found parents and children equally gratified .at the general emulation and rapid advances which were made in literature by the nriembers of this academy ; and youth from distant parts were sent to this instiiution, as offering the fairest prospect of education of any in the southern states. Thus were my affairs situated at the expiration of eight months from the lime of my comm.encing my school in this town. My lime ran smoothly on ; and, had it' not been for that coroding anxiety which constantly preyed on my mind, about the welfare of my family, I might have enjoyed pleasure here without interruption ; but that single circumstance embitteredmy days, and ren- dered my nights sleepless and insupportable. Ther^ ever has been a weakness in my resolution and mianly fortitude, when brought into collision with this object, which has ever failed me. I could not compose my feelings in any man- ner, so as to make them tolerable, when the misery of my family was the subject of reflection. Being actuated by^ these impressions, I accepted an offer which exhibibcd flattering hopes of realizing more speedily a sufficienc}- i38 SEQUEL. of money to send for my family to this place. The land spccula'tion (the rage of the day) offered to my imagina- tion the animating prospect of speedy affluence. I there- fore engaged in it. It was necessary, in order to carry this purpose into effect, in the first place to submit to a Faeries of hardships and self denial. In the capacity of sur- veyor I traversed those parts of Georgia which were yet in the possession of the natives. My business carried me through the different nations of the Creek, the Choctaw, and the Chickesaw Indians. When arrived among them, I was astonished to find the state of improvement to which they had arrived, particularly the Creek Indians. They dwelt in buildings of a permanent construction j they cul- tivated extensive fields of corn and rice ; they understood :he use of- the plough equal to the whites, and could di'aw from thi extraordinary luxuriancy of the soil stores of provisions capable of lasting them mai.y years. They ex- ercised a degree of urbanity, hospitality and benevolence tov.'ards all strangers who visited them, which ought to iTiake the civilis^ed part of mankind blush at the compari- son. In fcxt, v/ere it not for the name of civilized people, for the prejudices of education, and for the generally re- ceived opinion of Indian barbarity, I should have believed that the native savages of this country had, by some means, found the real state of civil happiness, and were not desti- tute of those enjoyments which the whites were willing, and did abundantly boast, were in their own exclusive pos- session. Here the weary traveller found rest and refresh- ment; the unfortunate found protection, and the poor found a ready and willing supply for his wants. From this circumstance, many blacks fled from their slavery among the v/hites, and found^ secure aeflum among the Indians. This, together with many other circumstances, caused the white people of the state of Georgia to make encroachments, and conimit depredations upon the In- dians of their neighborhood. These were revenged by the death of the whites, without discrimination. From circumstances like these, the relative situation of the two countries towards each other was very unhappy. Much danger attended an intercourse witlitbem at that moment. SEQUEL. 139 Yet, for the sake of acquirini^ wealth with certainty and dispatch, I ventured on the hazardous task, and finally proved successful, even bcjond my most sanguine expec- tations. I found the Indians extremely jealous of my de- signs when I first came among them, and had actually concluded, in a council of the nation, to put me to death,. under a full belief of my coming among them as a spy, in order to explore their country, and be in a situation to lead the white people among them to destroy their nation. However, this information I did not obtain until all the danger was over. Their jealousy was soon allayed, arid from suspicion they proceeded to the contrary extreme of friendship. They rendered me every assistance in com- pleting my survey, and in forwarding all my designs ; . so that, to the astonishment and gratification of my friends, I returned much sooner, and effected my survey much more accurately, than was at first expected. This land business was intimately connected with con- cerns in which Robert Morris, Esq. of Philadelphia, was particularly interested ; and, as the whole proceeds of the survey were to go to him before I could receive my part, it was ai^reed by his agent in Georgia that I should have an establishment on the island of St. Simons, at the mouth of the river Altomaha, where Morris owr/d a very exten- sive property, and was calculating to estaolish business to a great amount. To this place therefore I bent my coiiryc , and reached it without delay. Here I viewed' my unsti - ble and fluctuating situation coming to an end. The island on which I was to take up my pernic.nent residence wi^s pleasant in the extreme. My business here was to be lu- crative and permanent. I had already acquired a proper- ty which would be abundantly sufficient to defray the ex- penses of removing my family to this country, and support, them with a decent competency afterv/ards. Having made arrangements for their rcmovd, I set about prepar- ing accommodations for their reception, by procuring ma- terials and employing workmen to repair and fit up an ele- gant large brick building for their abode, making every ex- ertion to forward the business, being animated with tie grateyful expectation of seeing myself scon provided wiih ^^0 • ^ SEQUEL. a situation fo -which I could transport my family, and make them happy. Such was my situation on the island of St. Simons when I received directlcns from Mr. IMorris to repair immedi- ately to Philadelphia, and bring the books with me which related to the concern of the business there. I immedi- atejy obeyed this summons, made ready the full descrip- tion of the business in this place, and hastened to Phila- delphia. When I arrived there, "^ found Mr. Morris, Gen. Nicholson and Mr. Swanwick were closing a con- cern wiiich had existed for some time betv»'een them, and VAv attendance with the books was necessary for this ar- rangement. The parties concerned were much pleaded v.ith my attention to their business whilst I was at St. Si- mons, and the accuracy with which I had exhibited my accounts of the concern, considering the short time I had to effect the business. -.This circumstance opened a new field. for my enterprize, by an offer I had from these gen- tlemen of undertakulg a voyage into the western world, in order to establish an extensive fur trade with the different tribes of Ir»dians. Very" extensire views Avere entertain- . d of estnbiishing a trade, by. a mercantile company, which •hculd command the attention of the different tribes of Indians to the Gulph of Caiaphornia. ^To superintend ihis establishmVnt, and to carry it into effect, was a station w Iiich I was to occupy, with the prospect of very flatter- ing emoli^ments. Strange as it may seem, I undertook this difficult, hazardous and tedious business. For a term of live years I must novv' be absent, travers- ing imir.easurable wilds and barbarous nations of savages, exposed to the vicissitudes of different climes, different naiicas, and different resources for the prima.ry aliments of life, shut out from almost any chance to hear from my family and friends during that time. I declare, to you, Sir, these consideraiions many times cast a gloom of des- pondency on the prospect before me. It is true I had made arrungements to furnish my family with money to Linswer all their nece^ilies during my absence. Indeed Mr. Morris was so much engaged in having me undertake 'his business, thut he very generously offered to provide SEQUEL. 1 Ibf my family gratuitously during my absence, by renr ing them to Philadelphia, and providing them \rith all tue necessaries and comforts of life. ^ have no doubt but you will be astonished at this cal- culation of mine. I declare to you, Sir, when I look b.^ck and vicAv the circumstance myself,. I do not do it without producing a degree of surprize at my own views on that subject. After I had obtained a competency for myself and family, by acquiring so much property as to be able to afford them all the comforts of life at least, if not the luxuries ; after experiencing one continued series of the most heartfelt chagrin in consequence of my separation from them ; at such a time to enter voluntarily into a con- tract to exi'e myself from them for the term of five years, at the least calculation, and perhaps forever, is almost an enigma in nature, and j)erhaps may indicate to your view a species of mental madness. But, Sir, when I took into consideration that I might raise my family, by this voyage, to such a degree of wealth as to enable them to enjoy all the splendor which attached to riches, in spite of every ex- ertion of my enemies for their destruction, it was an ob- ject so fascinating to my imagination that every other con- sideration fell before it. Thus, Sir, is the liistory of tiie human heart exhibited to our view. Yet all the prospects which I had anticipated finally failed. Mr. Morris, by a concatenation of the most aston- ishing incidents, became embarrassed, notwithstanding his immense property and unequalled fiscal abilities. Be- ing at the head of the concern which was to carry my ■western expedition into effect, his failure so far affected the business, that it was laid by for the present moment, and I placed in a state of uncertainty as to my future ope- rations. I spent the summer much in this manner, wait- ing the turn of times, to determine my own rout. During this time I opened a land-office by the advice of the gen- tlemen before mentioned, and through their infitience, and the unwearied exertions which I made, my business in- creased beyond any. expectations v/hich I ever even in- dulged a hope for in this department. I negou^.ted at my N.2 143 SEQUEL. ci?icc, business to a great amount for the principal and iviost respectable merchants in that city. liut at a moment in which I thought myself establjshed l.ere in the most stable manner, and rapidly risini^ to%f- .luence, my Mattering prospects were in a moment blast- ed. The Honorable , from the state of Ixlassachusctts, became acquainted with the circumstance of my residence and business in this city. From the most benevokJit motives he exiiibitcd my character to the citi- zens of Philadelphia in the most dismal colors. He ex- erted himself to draw a picture calculated to please his own fancy, and tiiis picture did not by any means fall short of Milton's fruitful imaaination.in painting Satan. At this time I had property in ray of&ce to the amount of four hundred thousand dollars. A week had not elapsed eforC it was all taken from mc by the owners, and I was ft a solitary spectator of the depredations made by the rue I tongue of slander. I was diverted, ' however, to iiCarthc various excuses and plausible pretences made by the owners of this property when they called it out of my yiossession ; yet not one had the openness to give me an ccount of the real motives which actuated his conduct. Under this situation I formed a resolution to reHirn gain to the island of St. Simonf, and take my family with me. It was a long tin: e sines I had seen them, and the "moment I found it possible to revisit them, my heart pal- r.'itated with an ai'.xi^ty totally inexpressible. I collected ogetherall the money I Tas master of, and hired it to Ivlr. Morris, at conmcn interest, taking a mortgage upon prop- erty in Philadelphia for security, constituting a lawyer by the name of Thomas, my agent, to act for me in this busi- ness ; receive the quarterly interest of my money, and re- mit it to me whenever I mip^U need it. I found myself nv->;v in possession of thirty thousand dollars, besides a suf- ilciency to answer my travelling expenses, kc. You \ri:T nal«ru)ly conclude, that with some degree of eagerness I nov/ h^istened my return to my family. The nearer I approached, the Trore ungovernable was my im- patience to overcome the di^^tance, and enjoy once more the graleiui scene of givir-;;, them every u^surancs of be- SEQUEL. -443 ■ ing able to meet their wishes, and make them a comfort- able provision through life. I had preTiously learnt that they had left the inhospitable shores of Long-Island, and had returned to Charltcn. I therefore bent my course to that town with unabating assiduity. Here I must close the scene. It is absolutely beyond the pov/er of language to describe our meeting, so as to give you the faintest re= semblance. When I had leisure to state all my circumstances, pros- pects and views to my wife and friends, particularly to my wife's father, I found they had a decided wish that I sl^uld now tarry in the northorn, and relmquisli eniirely the ijie^k of removing my family into the southern states. THcii- wishes and opinions certainly had a decided in^encei in forming my calculations. I had every reas^rfto^feelVhe strongest sensations of graiitude towards my wife's father for the benevolent attention which he shewed to my fami- ly during the whole time of ni^- absence ; and, of course, I considerea myself under great obligations to gratify his wif^hes in my domestic arrangements, so far as in my power. My situation was such, however, as to render it dangerous to abide in Massachusetts. My enemies could take advantage of my peculiar situation in consequence of my leaving Vv^orcester gaol in the manner I "did ; and I always found virtuous people enough in this state to pur- sue the most bitter course of unrelendng persecutions ngainst me. This kind o^-irago virtue had pervaded all lasses and denominations among them, even from the ploughman to the upright judge, to the governor of to the senator in Congresl. Under considerations like these, I determined on a visit to my father, in Hanover, in the state of New-Hampshire, to see what prospects raigUt present themselves in that part of the world, for an establishment. When I came to relate to him the whole situation of my affairs, and my intentions, he manifested much anxiety that I should now, after so many vicissitudes and fluctuating scenes of life, settle down with him, and spend the rest of my days in superintending and managing his concerns, inasmuch as he had advanced far into the vale of life, and I was the only 14-f SEQUEL. ■■ son he had to perform this filial office. After consuhin^ with my friends in Charlton, I finally determined to com- ply with the united importunity and wishes of my parents. I according brought my family to Hano^'^er, and enjoyed, for a term of about three years, a degree of happiness with them, and with my parents and their friends, beyond de- scription. Fortune appeared for a time willing to make me amends for her ungenerous conduct, and the fickle and faithless godess promised much more than she per- formed. She now held out to my fond imagination, the final end of my sufferings, and a total close to all my wan- dering and fluctuating circumstances. About this time I received a letter from my agent in Philadelphia, informing me that the power of attorney un- der which he acted was so circumscribed as to render him unable to transact my business to my advantage, and that it was necessary to execute one which he had sent me, and forward it to him immediately by mail. Hating the most absolute confidence in the integrity of my agent, I did not hesitate one moment to comply with his desires, executed the power, and sent it on forthwith. However, this was a fatal stroke to my fortune^ By virtue of the power he sold my security in Philadelphiaj realized the money, and fled to France. APPENDIX. JLT may be expected that something further should be said of this extraordinary character, who has been the he- ro of the preceding Memoirs. Little, however, can be learned of his history in this part of the country, unless he himself should take it into his head to publish a third volume, for which undoubtedly he has abundant material's. Of ftiis, however, there is not iipuch prospect at present. From^6metime previous to the date of his last letter, to the spring of 1799, he ?ippearo to liuve lived with his father at Hanover, in great harmony. He had the chief management of the old gentleman*s farm, and other tem- poral concerns. Towards the latter part of this terra, they commenced the building of a large house ; and like many others who undertake to build, they did not count the cost, and became embarrassed. This caused uneasi- ness and n^utual crimination, which finally ended in an open rupture and separation. During this period of more than three years, the parents seem to have taken great c6mfort and satisfaction in their son and his rising family. This satisfaction was expressed by his tather in various let- ters to his friends, as well as by his conduct towards his children. He encouraged and assisted his son in the pub- lication of his Memoirs ; and maintained that he had a right to justify himself, as far as he was able, before an im- partial public. The Reverend Sire had been a member of the ^oard of Trustees of Dartmouth College, before the son joined thM institution ; which office he still holds, ^with credit 'to himself and the College. He is a man of great benevolenc^, piety, and zeal; and does hoiior to his profession. His mother is equally amiable. As a proof of the good understanding between these families, I take the liberty to publish one of the father's letters, receiv- ed during this period. 146 APPENDIX. « Hanover, (JV.H,) Jjiril 7, 1798. « Mr Dear Sir, " The motive of gratitude, under a sense of your kind attention to my son in the matters which he has commit- ted to your care and trust, as also your expressions and acts of benevolence to him in scenes through which he has passed in former years, has lain with weight upon my mind ; and I have often felt the force of it to such a de- gree, that to suppress its emotions, I have found to be a work of painful self denial. Had I felt a confidence that presenting my thanks in this account could have been re- garded by you as any thin^ of an adecfuate return, my warmest professions of gratitude would have waited upon you long before this. In your communications to my son received this day, we are both comforted by the leaven of friendship >and benevolence, Aviih ^rhich your letters are ever tempered. I am, Sir, especially pleased with your remarks upon the book he has published. . I am ever sen- sible that a true friend will be always as severe in censur- ing the failings of his friend, as he would be tender ot his character. Your readiness for this is a circumstance that establishes my confidence in you, and cloatbs you with a character opposite to the deceitful, unmeaning, vile flat- terer. Upon attending to certain queries contained in your letter, I am apprehensive that the laws of delicacy, and perhaps your own satisfaction, would require that an answer to them shbuld be stated by me rather than by him. To give you then a history of my son's present situation, I^feel myself in no danger of transgressing the bounds of candor and moderation by informing you, that, during the time he has resided with me (which is about two years and a half) he has conducted to my good acceptance. As an evidence of my confidence in him, I have committed to his care the whole management of my temporal affairs ; and have hitherto been well satisfied as to the wisdom, propriety and economy of his management ; as also with the dutiful and affectionate temper with which he has at- tended to and treated his parents. I am confident that in this testimony I speak the* established sentiments of our APPENDIX. 147 neighborhocKl and acquaintances as well as my o^fn. I know the benevolence of your heart will constrain you to rejoice with me and on my behalf. I wish, Sir, I might rejoice with that trembling which always becomes a de- * pendant creature. For this purpose, suffer me, my dear jf ir, to remind you of a debt we shall ever mutually owe 'to each other, to ask for that grace which may guard us from every evil, and preserve us in safety to the kingdom of glory. May Mrs. Burroughs' compliments be accep- table to you and your lady, together with those of, Sir, your affectionate Iriend, and humble servant, EDEN BURROUGHS.", About a yeat afler the date of this letter^ a sense of pro- priety and duty obliged the disappointed and dejected father to notify this same friend, that he had lost all coafi- dence in his son ; and cautioned him against any further recommendation. This, he says, he is " constrained, though with the utmost grief and sorrow of heart, to do, as an act of justice," &c. The son soon departed for Canada, as before stated. . Foi* several years he gave great encouragement to bis friends, that he might' still be a useful member of society. But, alas 1 bow have their hopes been blasted I Common fame says, that several of his last years have been assidu- ously employed in counterfeiting bills of the various banks of the United States ; that he has been in prison at Mon- treal and at Quebec. But it is hazardous to state any thing with certainty relative to this extraordinary man. It is not long since, that two of the Cashiers of certain Banks in Boston received each a letter of similar import, signed Stephen Burroughs, stating that he had been a month in that town, engaged with a company of counter- feiters ; that several of their own bills had been nicely imi- tated ; but that there was so little honor among the con- cern, he was determined to expose them ; and then calls a number of their names, and warns the Banks of their danger. Upon comparing these letters with Burroughs' hand writing, there was no sirr^ilarity between them I 143 APPENDIX. It is believed that Burroughs resides at present, with his family, ■« a place called Shifitor^ in Lower Canada.* Whether he still continues to labor in the line of his pro- fession, or whether a late law of the Province has checked him in his mad career, is unknown to the writer. [1811.] ^ . 1 -f * A correspondent of the publisher informs, that Mr. Burroughs resides at a place called Three ^ivera^ in Lower Canada, an^ is at present engag-ed in teaching a school. [^1812.] 1^. ^ w ~^;