E ,5^ ■"o 0^ : %:, * *b. ■^'" ^0 '^^. ^ ^<" ■-. %'S,- / ^M « ^ . ^h. % '"oo^ ^' '"^^ v^^ .5 -;. %. ■,"V Y .«°-. .<^ -^^ % „^^ ' ,^f^' .^^' ^/^- •;>* >-^. •.% ^^A v^^ k.^;^ c^. v\-' 'K^ *^. •^^\^^ %, \\ __ ,/ " A ^^^<>. AN ..UTHENTIC NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE or JOSHUA SLOCUM: CONTAINING A SUCClKCT ACCOUNT OF HIS REVOLUTIONARY SERVICES, TOGETHER WITH OTHER INTERESTING REMINISENCES AND ITHRILLING INCIDENTS IN HIS EVENTFUL LIFE. CAREFULLY COMPILED BY HIS ELDEST SON / JOHN SLOCUM. EMBELLISHED WITH ENGRAVINGS. HARTFORD : PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR. 1844. Ens aviTAHHA; Entered according to act of Congre33, in the year 1844, BY JOHN SLOCUM, , ia the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for the District of Coanecticut. .Jioiriu PREFATORY REMARKS. There are but few of the present generation that duly appreciate the trials, the sufferings and the im- mense sacrifices that were made by the fathers of the Revolution to achieve the glorious Independence we are now enjoying. True it is, the names of a Wash- ington, a Warren, a Green, and a host of others, who figured conspicuously in that mighty contest, have been blazoned in history, and their memories will go down to posterity embalmed with the tenderest recollections of the heart. Yes, their names will live in story, and generation upon generation yet unborn, "will rise up and call them blessed." But while we concede to these renowned Generals and distinguished Civilians all the praise their exalted services deserve, we should VI PREFATORY REMARKS. not forget those who in a more humble and subordi- i^ate capacity, faithfully served their country in the " days that tried men's souls." One by one they are fast going down to the grave, perhaps " unhonored and unsung." Few, very few, yet survive among us the walking monuments of the principles of '76. While yet they live, — while the low, glimmering, dying taper yet quivers into darkness, let them be respected; and let those of the present more selfish generation emulate their noble example. It is proper, nay, it is our duty, to cherish in grate- ful remembrance, the services of these men, and, as they from time to time depart from among us, their individual history cannot fail to be interesting. It is with a view of perpetuating the memory of one of these, that this work is presented to the public. Among the number who early embarked in this great struggle, and periled life, health and every thing dear on earth, was my venerated father, Josh- ua Slocum. Strongly imbued with a love of civil and religious liberty, he was among the first to step forward to fight the battles of his country. In doing this he incurred the high displeasure of his father and other family connexions, who were opposed to the war, or in otjier words Tories, and received at PREFATORY REMARKS. Vll their hands naught but contumely and reproach* But his sense of duty and devotedness to country prompted him to action, and the threat of incurring parental displeasure, passed by unheeded. He serv- ed through the entire war — fought in many of the principal battles, and endured more hardship and suffering than ordinarily falls to the lot of man. It was his intention to have published this Narrative during his life, but it was delayed till old age, and the infirmities incident upon it, prevented. It was among his last requests that I should prepare and present it to the public. In compliance with his parting injunction it is now thrown before the world. It is a plain, unvarnished tale of truth, and if its pe- rusal has the effect to inspire among our country- men a love of liberty and a hatred of tyranny, then the great desire of myself and departed sire will have been accomplished. Although this pubhcation has been delayed to this late period, still it is believed the reader will find much in it to interest and instruct. Unlike many of the catch-penny productions of the day — mere fic- tions, got up for money making purposes — this work possesses the rare quality of being predicated on truth. It is compiled from written and oral state- Vlll PREFATORY REMARKS. ments made by the subject of it, while yet the inci- dents were fresh in his recollection — and, it is be- lieved, they have lost none of their interest by hav- ing been so long kept from the public eye. If the reader should think this sketch too high wrought, or that the writer has presented his hero in too glowing colors, he is requested, in all charity, to attribute the fault, if fault it is, to a filial affection the promptings of which he could not resist. For the principal facts connected with the early history of my father, I am indebted to an elderly gentleman who knew him well in his boyhood and in after life, and who participated with him in many of the trials and hardships he was called upon to en- counter. This statement is made lest the charge of egotism should be brought against him by the cap- tious and incredulous. JOHN SLOCUM. Hartford, 1844. ■ i>— ijliii LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF JOSHUA SLOCUM. CHAPTER I. His birth — Precocious Infancy — Early intellectual and physical developements — Startling Incident, The subject of this sketch was born in the town of Franklin, Franklin county in the State of Massa- chusetts, in 1760. He was the sixth son of Joshua and Jerusha Slocum, who emigrated to this country from England, and were among the early settlers of the colony. His parents, were honest, frugal and industrious, and gave to their children all the infor- mation that the distracted state of the colonies and their limited means of education could impart. Josh- ua was a child of great promise — and the proud promises which his infancy gave his manhood did not fail to realize. At the early age of six he exhibited 10 LIFE OF traits of character and intellectual developements, which astonished, not alone his parents, but indeed all under whose observation he came. He was cal- led an extraordinary child — a prodigy. Every suc- cessive year tended more and more to develope his precocious faculties, and had he have lived at the present day, and enjoyed the advantages which our inimitable literary institutions afford, he would un- doubtedly have become a giant in intellect. But such was not his good fortune — such, indeed, was not the good fortune of thousands of others who with stout hearts and strong arms, fought the battles of our country, and whose blood fattened the soil of their nativity. How thankful, then, should we be that our lot has been cast in such pleasant places, and how grateful to those revolutionary heroes who per- iled their lives and every thing dear on earth, to se- cure to us so blessed a political heritage. But to return to our sketch — If young Slocum possessed extraordinary mental powers, he also em- bodied, in an eminent degree, great physical propor- tions. At the age of fourteen, he possessed the bone and sinew, figure, weight and size of a man of twen- ty, and but few of that age in his native town could successfully compete with him in the field, the work- shop, or the plays and pastimes of the day. In gymnastic feats he left all competitors in the dis- tance, and in all deeds of daring, his comrades nev- er lacked for a leader. But although thus powerful- ly constituted, and possessing such decided advanta- JOSHUA SLOCtJM. 11 ges over his fellows, he was far from being supercil- ious or quarrelsome. Possessed, naturally of a mild and conciliatory disposition, he exerted himself on all occasions, to check and subdue the angry pas- sions and ebullitions which now and then broke out among his associates. Indeed, he was proverbially a peace-maker — and was always called upon as urn-, pire in settling difficulties among his playmates. By this the reader will not understand that he was in- sensible to indignity. Not so. High-minded, hon- orable and sensitive, he could not brook an insult, or suffer WTong at the hands of any one, without de- manding reparation, and when this was refused, and he excited to action, it was like arousing the lion from his lair. We have been thus particular and minute in our description of young Slocum in order to prepare the mind of the reader for the many remarkable incidents that marked the progress ot his after life, all of which will be detailed in the course of these pages. The subject of this sketch became early attached to the chase, and soon proved an adept in the sci- ence of gunning. This propensity was encouraged by his father from the circumstance that bears, wolves and other wild animals were in the habit of making predatory incursions to his premises, and of not unfrequently bearing off sheep, poultry, &c. from his yards. His bold and fearless onsets upon these dangerous and annoying assailants, excited the aston- ishment of many of the older inhabitants, and acquir- 12 LIFE OP ed for him a reputation and a name which spread through the surrounding country. So well pleased was his father with his daring exploits, that he pur- chased a rifle in Boston of superior workmanship, and presented to him — little dreaming, however, that it was one day destined to be turned against his friends, and to deal death and destruction in the field of battle. With his rifle and faithful dog it was Joshua's wont every day to sally into the woods — and his every return brought with it proud trophies of his prowess. Bears, wolves, catamounts, and oth- er wild beasts, rapidly disappeared before his well- directed fire, and were nearly exterminated from the neighborhood. It was on one of these hunting excursions that a thrilHng incident occurred, which came well-nigh depriving our juvenile sportsman and his younger brother of their lives, and the country of his after- wards valuable services. This incident I will here narrate. So often have I heard the old gentleman repeat the story in the family circle and elsewhere, during winter evenings, that it has become as famil- iar to me as household words — and I shall, therefore, be enabled to present it to the reader with great ac- curacy and minuteness. It was on a beautiful morning in October, that he resolved on making an excursion to his favorite hunt- ing grounds, distant about four miles from the fami- ly mansion, and, contrary to his usual practice, took with him his younger brother, Samuel. Mounting JOSntA SLOCUM. IS- his trusty rifle, and caparisoned with powder-horn, shot-pouch and all the necessary implements of the sportsman, (not forgetting a plentiful supply of pro- visions,) they sallied forth at early dawn in search of game. The forenoon wore away, and at meridian he had killed but a few gray squirrels, a raccoon and some smaller game. Somewhat fatigued with their long tramp, they sat down under a large hickory tree and regaled themselves on the provisions they had brought with them. While eating they observ- ed that the tree was heavily laden with nuts, and as they had had poor luck in gunning it was proposed to fill the game-bags with nuts to carry home. As the frost had not fully opened them they procured clubs for the purpose of beating them off, and plac- ing the rifle at the foot of the tree, they both ascend- ed it, >Scarce had they commenced operations, when a huge black bear emerged from a thicket and proceeded direct for the tree. Knowing the bear's propensity for climbing, Joshua, to use his own ex- pression, " for the first time in his life began to feel streaked," and regretted that he had not his faithful rifle by his side. As it was, however, there was no alternative but to remain quiet, and watch the move- ments of his bearship. While in this state of intense anxiety and fear, the bear raised himself erect upon his hind feet and moved direct for the tree: after passing around it several times, he thrust his huge paws into the bark and began to hitch himself up. At this juncture the younger brother became greatly 2 14 LIFE OF alarmed, and began to cry ; but Joshua endeavored to appease him — saying to liim that they would be able to defend themselves with their clubs, and di- rected him to climb above ; both moved higher into the tree. In the mean time the bear was making rapid advances, and when within reaching distance, Joshua aimed a blow at his head, hoping to stun him or drive him from his position ; but the bear parried the blow and disarmed him with the adroitness of a fencing master. He then seized his brothers club and aimed a second blow at his now exasperated en- emy — but with no better success, for the bear inter- posed his huge paw, averted the blow, and the club fell inoxious to the ground. At this time the two brothers began to accelerate their movement to the top of the tree, while the bear kept in close juxtapo- sition to them. They had now all reached the high- est branches of the tree, and were all on one limb, the bear beginning to lacerate the feet and ancles of Joshua. All now was given up for lost, but just at that moment the top of the tree began to bend and crack, and finally broke, when down came Joshua, Samuel, bear and all, about thirty feet to the ground. The concussion was terrible, and they all lay insen- sible for some time. Upon recovering it was found that Samuel was not much injured, he having fallen partly on the bear, and the bear upon Joshua's leg dislocating his ankle. Samuel got out of the way as soon as he could, and bruen soon after relieved Josh- ua by hitching off from his leg, evidently much in- JOSHUA SLOCUM. 15 jured, and began slowly to Yun off, quite willifig to make a draw game of it. But Joshua, although suf- fering greatly from his wound, determined th^t mat- ters should not end so, and calling to his brother for his rifle he discharged it at his retreating foe. The ball took effect in his left thigh. Foaming with rage and smarting under his wounds, the bear turned in- stantly upon his assailant, when a contest of doubtful issue ensued. As the bear approached, the younger brother fled, but our hero stood his ground manful- ly. Not having time to re-load, his only means of defence lay in the butt of his trusty rifle. With this he encountered his foe, who now maddened to des- peration, made a fearful onset. Exhibiting the same skill he had displayed in the tree, the bear for a length of time successfully parried the blows of our hero, who, being nearly exhausted from the pain of his wounds and the effect of the fall, began to entertain fears that he would disarm him, and, as he facetious- ly remarked, " give him a fraternal hug." But by a fortunate and well directed blow, he finally brought him to the ground, and plunging his knife into his body, ended the rencounter. Finding himself unable to walk home, Joshua des- patched his brother to the village to inform his fa- ther of his situation, who, with some of his neigh- bors, hastened to his relief, and conveyed him home. The bear too, was borne in triumph to the town, and the next day the village of Franklin resounded with the exploits and hair-breadth escapes of Joshua Slo- 16 LIFE OP cum. Nor was this all. A barbecue was determin- ed upon, and his bearship, who would fain have made a meal of Joshua the day before, was now sumptuously served up to the villagers of Franklin. Hundreds of all ages and sexes were in attendance, and joy and hilarity was every where predominant. Our hero was toasted in full bumpers, and the fair daughters of Franklin vied with each other in doing him honors. 80q8M3 riJb 2* ^diMUu[au bar, iDiiilunnu ae dd o) CHAPTER II, Biographical Sketch of the Slccum family — Valley of Wyoming — Indian Massacres, ^c. In the Chapter which is just closed, the reader has an inkhng of the materials of which Joshua SIo- cum was made up, and undoubtedly, in his mind's eye, has come to the conclusion that he was an ex- traordinary youth, and has prepared himself for oth- er and more startling traits of character as he ripens into manhood. In this he will not be disappointed. He will find the narrative increasing in interest through each successive page. The first Chapterleft our hero at the tender age of fourteen, encounter- ing bears, wolves, catamounts and other wild beasts in his native village ; but we shall by and by present him in a far different character. We must, howev- er, leave him for the present, whilst, by a pardona- ble digression, we present to the reader a brief bio- graphical sketch of the Slocum family. It is not our intention, however, to trace its genealogy or to follow in heraldic succession this ancient name. We shall confine ourselves to the father of the subject of this sketch. It is well known that at the breaking out of the 20 LIFE OF Revolutionary war there was a strong party in this country conscientiously opposed to it — believing it to be an unnatural and unjustifiable resistance of pa- rental authority. They were taught to look up to the mother country as a child to a parent, and though borne down by an iron-handed oppression, they would still exclaim, — " England, with all thy faults we love thee still." Among the number who were thus warmly attached to the mother country, was the father of the subject of this sketch. So ardent was his affection for her and her cherished institu- tions, that no oppression, no grinding enactments could swerve him from his allegiance to his king, or induce him to abjure his fealty. He was, indeed, in revolutionary parlance, in every sense of the word, a Tory. As such he was looked upon by the friends of Liberty with a jealous eye, and his every move- ment watched with the closest scrutiny. Nor was this all. He had six sons, over three of whom he exercised a controlHng influence, and who, by threats, persuasions and promises, he induced to fol- low in his footsteps. But there was one over whom nor threats, nor persuasions, nor promises could avail aught — one whose stout heart and strong arms were nerved for the contest, and who panted for an op- portunity to strike for Liberty, for his Country and his God. Does the reader require to be informed that this was the youthful Joshua ? He it was who nobly spurned the authority of his sire, laughed to naught his threats, and indignantly rejected his prof- fered rewards. JOSHUA SLOCtJM. 1^1 Finding his situation extremely unpleasant in the town of Franklin, his conduct being so closely scru- tinized, he determined to migrate. Accordingly in October, 1777, he removed, with most of his family, consisting of his wife and seven children, to the Wyoming Valley in the State of Pennsylvania, leav- ing young Joshua, as will be seen in the sequel, to fight the battles of his country. He located in the beautiful village of Wilks Barre, on the banks of the Susquehannah, — built him a cottage^ — and for a time enjoyed a comfortable degree of repose. But this repose was of short duration. The Delaware tribe of Indians became troublesome, committed many massacres, fired several buildings, and kept the vil- lage in a constant state of alarm. In August, 1778, a party of these Indians suddenly surrounded the house of Mr. Slocum — killed a young man who was transacting business there — rifled the house of its contents, and bore off into captivity one of his daugh- ters. Mr. S. was absent from the house at the time, and Mrs. Slocum, discovering the approach of the Indians, fled to the woods with all her children but the one above named, and miraculously escaped be- ing massacreed. About two months from the date of this transaction, another party of Indians came to the village and murdered a man in the employ of Mr. Slocum ; he also received a ball in his leg, which he carried to the day of his death. Constantly annoyed by the Indians, almost heart- broken, and despairing of ever again seeing her 22 LIFE OP : daughter, Mrs. Slocum gradually declined, and in a few months was numbered with the dead. Mr. Slo- cum after making many fruitless and unavailing ef- forts to obtain information of his stolen daughter, gave her up for lost. Harassed by the Indians — and borne down by his bereavement, he determined upon leaving the Valley of Wyoming; and in 1779 he disposed of his property there, and emigrated to Nova Scotia, where on undisputed British soil, and with unshaken attachment to his king, he drew his l^t breath. With a brief account of the subsequent discovery of the lost child we shall close this chapter. It has been remarked that every thing which fil- ial affection could inspire, or brotherly love induce, were put forth by the Slocum family, before their departure from the country, to obtain tidings of the captive girl, but in vain. Her fate was shrouded in mystery, and clouds and darkness hung upon it. Her aged parents went down to the grave, unconscious that she was among the living, and years rolled on ere the mystery was developed. That all-wise Be- ing whose providence had covered the event with so thick a veil, had determined that it should not always remain drawn over it. Under His watchful eye the little captive had been led safely through the wilder- ness, and years after her parents had slept in death, she was found among the living. Surely the ways of Providence are inscrutable and past finding out. The circumstances under which the long lost captive JOSHtA SLOCUM. 23 was found, are briefly these. A gentleman travel- ling in an unfrequented part of Indiana, found him- self at night near the residence of an Indian, and be- ing fatigued and hungry he asked and obtained per- mission to stop for the night. On entering the house he was forcibly struck with the appearance of its mistress, who was an elderly woman and somewhat infirm. The whiteness of lier skin and other circum- stances, concurred to induce the belief that she was a white woman, and he determined on the morrow, should a favorable opportunity offer, to interrogate her on the subject. Such an opportunity soon oc- curred, in the absence of the other inmates of the house, when he entered into conversation with her, and soon drew from her the reluctant acknowledg- ment that she was not an Indian. She stated that when a mere child, her father's house, situated on the Susquehannah, while the rest of the family were absent, had been surrounded by a party of Dela- ware Indians— the house plundered, and she carried into captivity. She did not recollect her christian name, but said her father's name was Slocum- — that she had an indistinct recollection of the house and surrounding country, which she described, and also remembered that she had several brothers and sis- ters. She stated further that the Indians who cap- tured her adopted her into their family as one of their children, and treated her with great kindness — that upon their death she married one of the Miami tribe of Indians, by whom she had six children, &c., full fruition of every earthly comfort, and finally, at a very advanced age, surrendered up her breath to the Great Spirit who gave it. So much by v^^ay of digression. In the next chap- ter we shall again introduce young Joshua to the reader. tu CHAPTER IIL Preliminai^y Remarks — State of the Colonies — Bat- tle of Bunker Hill — Debut of young Slocum, The contemplative mind is struck with wonder and astonishment when it reflects upon the mighty events that marked the progress of the war of the Revolution — a war rendered hallowed by the blood pour^ out in its maintenance, and the rights and immunities emanating from the liberty it proclaim- ed. It would be matter of supererogation to advert to the causes which led to this great struggle, as they must be fresh in the recollection of all. Suffice it to say, that by a long series of cruelties, aggressions, usurpations and grinding oppressions, one following close upon the heels of the other, the colonists were driven as a last resort, to arms. They had borne and forborn, till forbearance could no longer be consid- ered a virtue, and, appealing to the God of armies for the rectitude of their intentions, they nerved themselves for the conflict. Lexington opened the grand drama. There the great ball was put in mo- tion which continued to roll on till America was free. The 19th of April *75, was a day memorable ia tha 3* 30 MPE OP annals of this mighty struggle, and has marked an era in the history of our country which the lapse of time, with all its changes, will be unable to subvert. On that day the first blood w^as shed in the war which terminated in our separation from the mother country, and changed our condition from that of colonists and slaves to Britain, to free, sovereign and Independent States. The slaughter of the militia at Lexington was cold- blooded, and wanton in the extreme. It was char- acterized by all those acts of cruelty which had marked the progress of Britain's troops in this and other countries, and fixed a deeper stain upon her escutcheon than had ever yet disgraced it, if, iiwleed, another blemish could be visible on the broad sur- face of its tarnished honor. Although every effort was made by the British to suppress the intelligence of this expedition, and to prevent its spreading through the country, yet it was sent on the wings of the wind to its farthest extremity. Expresses were despatched in every direction — bells were rung — and a continuous roar of cannon and musquetry, from town to town, apprized the colonists that the first blow had been struck. The effect of this an- nouncement was fairly electrical. The farmer aban- doned his plow in the field — the mechanic his work- shop, and the artizan his profession. One general burst of indignation ran through the land, and on ev- ery hand a determined spirit of resistance to oppres- sion was visible. In the language of Emmons — JOSHUA SLOCUMt, 31 Th* ennobling cause was stamp'd on every brov^, The}'^ knelt to heaven — they pledged the solemn vow- To rid tlie land of tyrants and be free, Or sing a death-song for their jubilee. The weeding harrow mid the corn is stay'd— ' The hammer soundless on the anvil laid— ^ The line and plummet rest, upon the wall — The flocks no longer hear the shepherd's call. Forsaken reels the barge towards the shore, The recent moisture dripping from the oar — The net remains half coiled upon the beach— The halls are empty where preceptor's teach. No more by woodman's axe the forest jars, The urchin has forgot to fix the bars, Hence bellowing herds are straying from the fields While war's loud tocin round the land is pcal'd. When this intelhgence reached Franklin, it found Joshua Slocum, his father and two brothers, plant- ing in the field. On its announcement to them, a complaisant smile played upon the countenances of the elder Slocum and two of his sons — -the old man remarking " that the rebels were now receiving their just deserts for disloyalty to their king." Had a thun- derbolt from heaven descended at the instant, young Joshua would not have been more astounded. True it was he knew his father's warm attachment to the mother country, but he w^as not prepared to witness his exultation at the savage butchery of his neigh- bors. Quck as thought his purpose was formed. Indignantly hurling high in air the implement with which he was laboring, he turned to his father and thus addressed him : — "I have heard with astonish- ment, mingled with indignation, the declaration 33 UtH Of tiN^hich has just escaped you. As a parent I have re- ceived at your hands every kindness, and these kind- nesses I have endeavored to requite. But the time has now come when the relations which subsist be- tween us must cease, and on this spot I now sever the ties of consanguinity and blood, and disown you as a father. This is strong language ; but when I see you supporting a government that has delibe- rately murdered our citizens in cold blood j which has violated all those just principles and usages which religion, law and time have sanctified ; which knows no justice but her own interest — no humanity dis- tinct from herself; — when I see you, instead of stretching forth your arm to rescue a suffering and bleeding country, exulting in its prostration and glo- rying in the butchery of your neighbors,^! feel that I shall be justified, in the eyes of high heaven, in making use of it. I this day abandon home, con* nexions and friends, with all the associations that render them dear, and determine henceforward to devote myself to my country. Whether weal or woe await me, I shall enjoy the consoling reflection of having performed my duty — whilst your reflec- tions, if you suffer yourself to reflect, must be such as devils and the damned have." Thus spake young Joshua in the exuberance of his patriotism and indignation ; but he afterwards, in his cooler moments, regretted his rashness, and while in the army addressed a letter to his father to that ef- fect.* * A copy of this letter will be found on another page. JOSHUA SLOCl/M. 3^' The bold and determined stand taken by his son, astonished and alarmed the father. He expostula- ted with him — advised, remonstrated and threaten- ed him. He pointed out to him the trials, the suf- ferings, the dangers of the camp — spoke of the utter inability of the colonists successfully to sustain them- selves in the contest — painted in glowing colors the severe punishments which would surely be visited upon the rebels — and appealed to him in a feeling and affectionate manner, to abandon his designs. But it availed naught. lie could not be induced to halt or hesitate or falter in his steady purpose, while yet w^ere ringing in his ears the groans of his bleed- ing countrymen ; the slirieks of the widow who had lost the partner of her bosom, and the lamentations of fathers bereft of affectionate sons. He had taken his position, and turned a deaf ear to threats and re- monstrances. The time had now arrived when he was to throw aside the implements of husbandry — to assume a new character, and figure in the capacity of a sol- dier. Nor was he long wanting for a field in which to make bis first appearance. The news of the bat- tle of Lexington, as before remarked, had spread like wild-fire through the surrounding country, and one universal, all-pervading feeling of resistance to tyranny, actuated the public mind. The quiet and . patriotic village of Franklin could not but be moved by its holy and irresistible influence. Her gallant sons were among the first to rally to the rescue. 34 LIFE OF The very day the intelligence reached there, a call to arms was sounded — a volunteer company was organized, and the name of Joshua Slocum stood conspicuous on the roll. The day following, these choice spirits were on their line of march to the scene of danger and blood — carrying with them the benedictions of the man of God — the prayers of wives who might be made widows, and of children who miglit become fatherless. There was not one among this Spartan band whose heart beat higher for his country than young Slocum's, nor one whose gallant bearing shew more defiance to tyranny. His faithful rifle, which had carried desolation and death to the wild beasts of the forest, was soon to be turn- ed against a more cruel and blood-thirsty foe. The volunteers reached Roxbury after a some- what tedious march, and encamped at that place, whither volunteers were flocking from every direc- tion. It was aiow evident that a battle was soon to be fought, and all seemed ready for the crisis. The intelligence of the surrender of Ticonderoga* and Crown Point, with all their valuable stores, had al- ready reached Roxbury, and the greatest enthusi- asm prevailed among the troops. Every exertion that circumstances and time would permit^ were put forth by the officers to drill and dicipline the troops j and the raw militia and volunteers, hastily gathered together, on a sudden emergency, soon became some- w hat proficient in arms. Our young volunteer ap- »An account of this surrender will be found at the close of this Chapter, JOSHUA SLOCUM. 35 plied himself with great assiduity to the drill, and under the direction of an experienced officer, soon acquired a pretty thorough knowledge of company evolutions and manoeuvres. As the " busy note of preparation" was being sounded in every direction, and the hour of battle near at hand, the heart of Joshua began to relent, and for the first time, since his leaving home, the conviction flashed upon his mind that he owed an acknowledgment to his father. Under the implse of this conviction, he sat down and penned him the fol- lowing letter : — Camp, Roxbury, Mass. ) June 16th, 1775. ) Honored Parent — Although I have forfeited all claim to your kindness or courtesy, permit me to address you by this endearing appellation. You well remember our interview the day before I left my paternal home, and the rash and uncourteous lan- guage that escaped me on that occasion. Time and a little reflection, has softened the asperity of a tem- per naturally ardent, and led me to reflect upon the gross impropriety of my conduct. The scriptural in- junction of " honor thy father, ^^ has also been forci- bly impressed upon my mind, and that silent moni- tor, whose admonitions all should heed, speaks to me in a "still small voice," and points out the duty I owe to you. Expecting every hour to be summoned to the battle field, and not knowing what a day or an 36 LIFE OP hour may bring forth, I hasten to perform a duty which a sense of justice and an upbraiding con- science urgently impose upon me. I rejoice that an opportunity has been spared me to make what httle of reparation I can for the great injustice I have done you, and here, with a contrite heart and sub- dued spirit, I humbly ask your forgiveness, as I have my God's, in the firm belief that both you and He will vouchsafe a favorable answer. I have now per- formed the happiest act of my life, and shall enter the great arena before me, with a relieved con- science, with a stout heart and strong arms, ready to do battle for my country. I may fall in perform- ing what I know to be my duty ; but with a firm re- liance upon Jehovah, and the justice of the cause in which I have embarked, I feel a prepossession that I shall pass through the ordeal unscathed. Be this as it may, I ask your prayers and the prayers of the family, for my safe deliverance. Remember me af- fectionately to mother, brothers and sisters. Say to them that my affections are not alienated, and that, should my life be spared, I shall one day embrace them again with filial and fraternal tenderness. Your affectionate but penitent Son, Joshua S locum, P. S. A council of general officers convened this morning in Harvard College, and decided upon for- tifying Bunker's Heights, A detachment of 1000 men have been ordejred to perform this hazardous JOSHUA SLOCUM. 37 enterprize. The Franklin volunteers are among the number. Col. Prescott, at his own request, com- mands the expedition. We shall soon have hard fighting. God send us a safe deliverance. In haste, J. S. As anticipated in his letter, the time was near at hand when a battle was to be fought. It being ap- parent that it was the intention of the British to oc- cupy the important heights of Charlestown and Dor- chester, (which would enable them to command the surrounding country,) a council of officers was sum- moned who, after consultation, decided to fortify Bunker Hill. Accordingly, on the evening of the 16th of June, (as stated in the above letter,) a detach- ment of one thousand men was ordered to throw up an entrenchment on Bunker Hill. Arrived at the spot, another consultation was held by the officers, when it was determined to approach still nearer the enemy, and fortify Breed's Hill, a high eminence in Charlestown, and within cannon-shot of Boston. " Here about midnight," says my father, *' we com- menced throwing up the redoubt. Scarce less si- lence could have prevailed at the erection of Solo- mon's temple, than was preserved by our troops through this eventful night. Gridley, with his corps of skillful engineers, circumscribed the hill — " And soon the outline of a rampart laid, Secure from danger of an enfilade." Putnam and Prescott were the first to ply the spade 4 38 LIFE OF and mattock, and their example was the animating soul of the whole hne. The work went bravely on^ — ^not a voice was heard above a wisper — and «* When Jhe morning stole upon the night. Melting the darkness" — the astonished eye of the British rested upon our half-finished battery. What a spectacle for them to behold f A redoubt of eight rods square, and a breast work extending seventy feet, marked out and nearly finished in a single night I A handful of raw, undisciplined militia, bearding, as it were, the lion in his very den, and hurling defiance in the teeth often thousand veteran soldiers ! As the morning sun chased avv^ay the mists and disclosed more fully to the enemy the extent of our operations, " confusion worse confounded" seemed to prevail The clang- or of arms, the tramping of horses, the beating of drums, (all of which we could distinctly hear,) gave a sure presage of what was to follow. Soon a dreadful cannonade commenced. Their ships and floating batteries opened upon os a tremendous fire, while bombs and other destructive missiles filled the air. This bombardment continued through the en- tire forenoon without a moment's cessation. But, nothing daunted, we did not relax our eflx)rts, or fal- ter in the least, in the great work before us — on the contrary, although fatigued and almost exhausted by the labor of the preceding night, we continued on with accelerated energy, till about noon, at which time we had nearly completed the redoubt. JOSHUA SLOCUM. 39 The bombardment nov/ ceased, and the movements of the enemy gave sure indications that they intend- ed to storm our works. We were not long in sus- pense ; for, about 12 o'clock they commenced cros- sing their troops from Boston, and landed at Morton's Point, bearing S. E, from our entrenchment. By 2 o'clock they had landed, as near as could be ascer- tained, about 4000 men, commanded by Generals Howe and Pigot — names known to fame— and form- ed at the base of the hill. Our position was a re- doubt on the summit of the hill, of about eight rods square, with a breast work on the left of it, extend- ing about seventy feet down its eastern declivity. Almost destitute of provisions, dreadfully deficient in the munitions of war, and worn down by the fatigues of the night, doubts began to run through the line as to the possibihty of our being able to sustain our position. Without aid from the main body of the army this seemed almost impossible. Still there was no flinching in our ranks. The same determin- ed spirit actuated all. The Franklin volunteers es- pecially, lacking none of the enthusiasm which first aroused them to action. About 3 o'clock the British formed in two columns for the attack — one column moving along the Mys- tic River, with the view of attacking the redoubt in the rear, while the other ascended the hill directly in front of us. It was now, for the first time in my life, that the sensation of fear had come over me. But when I looked at the advancing columns 40 LIFE OP of veteran troops of three times our number — all well drilled and disciplined in the science of arms, and commanded by distinguished officers — when I cast my eye upon the feeble redoubt we had just hastily thrown up, and our comparatively small num- ber of undisciplined troops to defend it, I confess my heart began to falter, and I almost wished my- self snug in the paternal mansion. These misgiv- ings, however, were of short duration. For when I reflected on the glorious cause in which I had em- barked, and the untold blessings which would accrue to countless millions, by its successful issue, a new feeling came over me, and commending myself to God, I nerved myself for the conflict. It soon came, with all its desolating horrors. The enemy advanced with a firm and steady tread, and began to blaze away upon us at quite a dis- tance, doing us but little injury. We, however, had received strict orders not to discharge a musket un- til they had approached sufficiently near to render our aim certain — to make every shot tell. But, im- patient of restraint, two of our volunteers, standing near to me, involuntarily touched the trigger, and the leaden messengers of death told the story. So sure was their aim, that I saw two of the enemy bite the dust. At this very moment. Col. Prescott was passing the line, and was nearly opposite us. I nev- er shall forget the expression of his countenance as he rode to and fro through the line, exclaiming — " the first man that discharges another musket before JOSHUA SLOCtJM. 41 the word Is given, shall suffer death." His order was, ♦♦ Keep deathful in reserve, till Putnam's sword Shall wave and give the consummating word." This order was strictly obeyed — not another gun was fired until the enemy had advanced to within eight rods of us — who, attributing our reserve to fear, calculated upon an easy victory. At this mo- ment, with upraised sword and stentorian voice, Putnam gave the dreadful signal which sent hundreds " unanointed, unanealed," into the presence of their God. One continuous roar of musketry was now kept up by our troops, till the assailants retreated in dismay to the point from whence they started — trampling in their course, the bodies of their dead and dying countrymen, who had fallen beneath our destructive fire. The fire from the Glasgow frigate and the two floating batteries in Charles River, which had been kept up from daylight, until the British began to as- cend the hill, was now renewed with increased vig- or, and, to add to the horrors of the scene, the in- cendiary torch of the enemy lit up the town of Charlestown — in the vain hope of diverting our at- tention, and awing us into submission. In the lan- guage of the poet, " he kindled all his leaping fires at once" — " A widow's house was first to catch the flame, And she, alas ! a lifeless corse became ; The shriekings of distress ascend the skies — Now here, now there the the bickering flashes rise 4* 42 LIFE OF On private buildings — on the public halls, On poverty's low shed the ruin falls. The fierce combustion spreading far and wide Thick rolls of smoke upon the whirlwind ride ; Red flames like serpent tongues are seen to flash Amid the folds, while falling buildirgs crash. Swift round the steeples fiery ringlets curl, And shoot above ihem with a maddening whirl. Catching from this to that, the blaze combines, Till all in one vast conflagration joins — A sea of flame beneath, from which ascend Volumes of fire that with the heavens contend." The scene was awfully subllnre, — never before or since, has my eye rested on its counterpart. But it had not the desired effect ; for, as the British rallied a second time to the assault, the stillness of death pervaded our ranks — not a nerve relaxed- — not a trembling hand was seen ; on the contrary, with well charged muskets and steady aim, our gallant band calmly awaited their approach. As before, we were strictly enjoined to reserve our fire till the word was given, and the enemy was allov/ed to approach still nearer our works, when we poured into them a sheet of fire, with such unerring aim, that they fled, terri- fied, a second time to the banks of the river, leaving as before, the field strewed with the wounded, the dying and the dead. Receiving reinforcements from the main body of their army, the British again rallied, and made a third and dreadful onset. What men could do to re- pel was done. But our ammunition becoming ex- hausted, we were obliged to abandon our position and retire from the field ; not, however, until we had JOSHUA SI/OCUM. 43 emptied the cartridge boxes of the dead, the dying and the wounded, and with clubbed muskets doing battle till overpowered by numbers. At the moment the retreat was sounded, I had prostrated three of the enemy with the but-end of my rifle, and whilst a fourth, with stalwart arm, was aiming a deadly thrust at the side of our Lieutenant, I biought him to the ground, and thus saved the life of a gallant officer. Our retreat was conducted in good order, though we suffered severely from a raking fire from the ships and batteries of the enemy as we crossed over the neck at Charlestown. The British pursued us as far as Bunker Hill, when some fresh militia came up to our aid, and covered our retreat. We crossed the Neck about 7 o'clock in the evening. A part of the troops posted themselves on Winter and Pros- pect Hill, and the remainder proceeded to Cambridge. Our company, (minus three who fell in the engage- ment,) encamped at the latter place — worn down and exhausted by the fatigues of the day and preceding night. Thus ended this battle— a battle which, taken in all its bearings, was as important as any one fought during the revolution, and which, in point of brave- ry and noble daring, has scarce a parallel in the mil- itary annals of the world. It was this battle that gave nurture and vigor to the tree of liberty, which our fathers had planted, and which we now behold in its youthful maturity, standing protected from yiolation by the strong arms and stout hearts of 44 LIFE OP a new generation — raising its majestic trunk towards heaven, and striking its deep roots in every direc- tion through our soil. It was this battle which broke the charm of British invincibility— taught the Ameri- cans the necessity of a stricter discipline — imparted new life and courage to the colonists, and inspired new hopes for a glorious and successful issue of the great contest in which they had embarked. Our loss in this engagement was 139 killed, and 300 wounded. During the first onset of the British, three of our company were shot down by my side, and I received a bullet through the fleshy part of my left arm. Bleeding profusely, I was advised by the commanding officer to retire, but I determined to remain at my post ; and having my wound quickly staunched with a handkerchief, I was ready to meet the second advance of the British, when my rifle again drank deep in the blood of the enemy. The loss on the part of the British, was in killed 226, and 800 wounded. Among the killed was Ma- jor Pitcairn, one of the flower of their army. I shall always believe that it was my rifle that sent him to his final account — for, as the enemy ascended the hill, I selected an officer answering his description, for a target, and as I took good aim, and my rifle seldom missing its object, I am very certain I killed him. Although this battle resulted in our being driven from the hill, yet it may well be claimed as a victory to the Americans. Still it cost us many valuable JOSHUA SLOCUM. 45 lives — among the number that; of the lamented War- ren. Yes, he whose lofty eloquence had so often re- sounded through Faneuel Hall, inspiring new hopes and confidence in his suffering countrymen, — he whom British gold could not corrupt, nor offers of preferment seduce from his devotion to country — he who could have so shaped his course as to have glided with steady keel, and soft and silken sails into the harbor of affluence and renown, fell bleeding in his country's cause. When the flame (which soon spread over the American continent and melted the colonies into one vast republic) was yet a spark, a latent, obscure, smotherd spark, it was in the patriot Warren's power to have been headed up in gold, enshrined in diamonds and loaded w^ith wealth and honors. But he preferred death in the cause of Liberty to all the blushing honors which blossom on the mire of corruption. He taught Americans with one hand and one heart, to frown on their oppressors where'er they met them ; and scorn their mercy while ihey felt their power. His death was a great loss to the cause, and its an- nouncement spread a gloom over the country. •' Green grow the grass that wraps the hero's grave." We cannot refrain from here inserting a new Na- tional Song — " The Death of Warri^en" written by Epes Sargent : On the day of the memorable engagement at Bun- ker Hill, Gen. Warren, then in the prime of life, join- 46 LIFE OF ed the American ranks as a volunteer. " Tell me where I can be useful," said he, addressing General Putnam. "Go to the redoubt," was the reply; "you will there be covered." " I came not to be cover- ed," returned Warren ; "tell me where I shall be in the most danger ; tell me where the action will be the hottest." His friends earnestly strove to dis- suade him from exposing his person, but to no effect. " I know there is danger," said Warren, "but who does not think it sweet to die for his country ?" When the war cry of Liberty rang through the land To arms sprang our fathers, the foe to withstand. On old Banker Hill their entrenchment they rear, When the army is joined by a young volunteer. " Tempt not death I" cried his friends ; but he bade them good bye, Saying "01 it is sweet for our country to die." The tempest of battle now rages and swells Mid the thunder of cannon, the pealing of bells ; And a light not of battle, illumes yonder spire — Scene of wo and destruction, tis Charlestown on fire ! The young volunteer heeded not the sad cry, But murmurs, " 'tis sweet for our country to die !" With trumpets and banners the foe draweth near ; A volley of muketry checks their career ! — With the dead and the dying the hill side is strown, And the shout through our line is, " the day is our own." " Not yet," cries the young volunteer, '' do they fly I Stand firm ! it is sweet for our country to die I" Now our powder is spent — and they rally again ; " Retreat !" says our chief, " since unarmed we remain.'' But the young volunteer lingers yet on the field, Reluctant to fly and disdaining to yield. A shot ! ah ! he falls ! but his life's latest sigh la, *' 'tis sweet, O 'tis sweet for our country to die !" ■i CHAPTER IV. Capture of Ticonderoga — The part Connecticut took in the cnterprize — Interesting reminiscences con- nected with it — Col. Ethan Allen's account of its surrender. In a note appended to a preceding page, we sta- ted that we should give an account of the capture of Ticonderoga at the close of Chapter III. But up- on reflection, we have concluded to devote more space to this important enterprize, and to assign to it a distinct Chapter. Although this will be a digres- sion, and in a manner break the thread of the narra- tive, still it is believed the reader, especially the Connecticut reader, when he has gone through with it, will not regret the course we have adopted. Although my father did not participate in the glo- ry of this achievement, yet he often spoke of the enthusiasm and rejoicings that prevailed among the troops when the tidings first reached Cambridge. And well might they rejoice. The capture of this important post, with over one hundred pieces of ord- nance, ammunition, provisions, and and all kinds of military stores, was an event eminently calculated to 5 60 LIFE OP inspire such a feeling, especially at a time when our army wns wofully deficient in all these respects. It is not, we believe, generally known to the read* er, certainly not to the younger class, that the bold emprise of reducing the fortresses of Ticonderoga and Crown Point, w as a Connecticut measure. Yet such is tfie fact. To a few choice spirits congrega- ted in Hartford, belongs the credit of having sugges- ted and arranged this hazardous adventure — an ad- venture vvhicli, whilst it reflects the highest credit upon its patriotic projectors, was productive of im- mense advantage to our country. But our admira- tion at the brilliancy with which this expedition was planned, is lost and absorbed in the superior admira- tion with which we contemplate the boldness and fearlessness with which it was carried into execution. A deed of nobler daring was scarce achieved during the whole revolutionary struggle. As we have stated that to Connecticut belonged the credit of projecting this enterprize, we should add that to one of her noble sons, (Col. Ethan Allen,) was assigned the hazardous duty of successfully execut- ing it. This gallant exploit won for him the admira- tion of his grateful countrymen, and crowned him with a wreath of never-dying glory. Had it been allowed him, this bold and adventurous soldier would have performed prodigies of valor ; but fate deter- mined otherwise. The fortunes of war threw him into the hands of a cruel and vindictive enemy ; he was loaded with irons, consigned to the loathsome JOSHUA. 8L0CUM. 51 prisons of Britan, with felons and outlaws, and for nearly three years endured more suffering and hard- ship than scarce ever fell to the lot of humanity. We will now proceed to give some interesting facts connected with this expedition, and close the Chapter with Col. Allen's own account of the sur- render of Ticonderoga. We should, however, here premise, that for most of these facts we are indebt- ed to R. R. Hinman's " Historical Collection," a work deserving of a more extended patronage than it has received — embodying as it does, an interest- ing account, from official records, files, &c., of the part sustained by Connecticut in the war of the rev- olution. No other State in the confederacy imposed a bolder front to tyranny than did Connecticut — no other state, perhaps, suffered more in blood and treas- ure than did she — and no other work extant, contains so full, so graphic, or so interesting a delineation of the part slie performed in this great drama, as the w^ork to which we have alluded. Purchase it then- place it in your libraries, that your children and chil- dren's children may learn of what unflinching stuff the fathers of the revolution were made- — purchase it, and thus, in a measure, requite the compiler for the immense sacrifice of time and labor he has made in searching the archieves of the State, and gather- ing from their musty records, which the hand of time had almost obliterated, the interesting facts he has presented. But to our subject. Soon after the battle of Lex- 62 LIFE OP ington, several gentlemen of Connecticut, at the head of whom were Gen. S. H. Parsons, the Hon. Silas Dean, and Gen. David Wooster, formed the bold de- sign of seizing the fortresses of Ticonderoga and Crown Point by surprise, and thus obtain command of Lakes George and Champlain. In order to exe- cute the plan with secrecy and despatch, they bor- rowed on their individual credit, the requisite funds from the colonial treasurer, at Hartford— collected about sixteen volunteers from Connecticut, and pro- ceeded to Berkshire county, Mass., where they ob- tained the aid of some influential citizens, and forty or fifty volunteers were added to their small force. The expedition then advanced to Bennington Yt., where it was joined by Ethan Allen, Seth Warner, and about one hundred volunteers. The little army, consisting of about one hundred and fifty men, thus raised, marched to Castleton, where a military or- ganization took place, and Ethan Allen, a native of Connecticut, was appointed commander, James Eas- ton, of Berkshire, second, and Seth Warner, an ofii- cer from Connecticut, third in command. Among the number who embarked in this expedition, was Capt. Noah Phelps, of Simsbury, Ct. Being a bold and resolute man, and withal, of good address, he was selected to proceed to the fort, examine its sit- uation and condition, and make report to his associ- ates. He proceeded from the southern part of lake- Champlain in a boat, and stopped for the night at a tavern near the fort. The officers of the garrison JOSHUA SLOCUM. 53 occupied a room adjoining that in which he slept, for a supper party, and as usual on such occasions, pro- tracted their entertainment to a very late hour. His contiguity to their room enabled him to overhear much of their conversation. In the course of their debauch, they frequently alluded to the commotion in the colonies, and spoke of the dilapidated condi- tion of their fort, &c. No suspicion being entertain- ed of him as a spy, he gained ready access to the fort early the next moring under pretence of getting shaved, and had a fine opportunity of scrutinizing its condition. While retiring through it, the command- ant walked with him, and conversed freely about the rebels, their movements, and their object. Capt. Phelps, for the time being, was of course a good loy- alist. Observing that a part of the wall in the fort had fallen down, Capt. P. remarked that it would af- ford but a feeble defence against the rebels if they should attack it. The commandant replied yes, but that is not our greatest misfortune, for all our powder is damaged, and before we can uce it we are obliged to dry and sift it. Possessing himself of all the in- formation he desired, he left the fort, proceeded to the lake shore, and procured a boatman to transport him down the lake. He entered the boat in plain view of the fort and under her guns. He had not proceeded far before he urged the boatman to exert himself and terminate the voyage as soon as possible. The boatman requested Capt. Phelps to take an oar and assist. This was declined, being in full view of 6* v::.. W LIFE OF the fort, on the ground that he was no boatman. Af- ter rounding a point of land projecting into the lake and intercepting the view from the fort, he proposed taking the oar, and did so. The rapidity with which he plied the oar, excited the surprise of the boatman, who, with an oath, exclaimed, " you have seen a boat before now, sir." This circumstance at the time, led the boatman to suspect that his passenger was not a loyal subject, but fear of being overpowered pre- vented an attempt to carry him back to the fort, as he informed Capt. Phelps after the surrender. Capt. P. reached his place of destination, and communica- ted to his associates the situation of the fort, &c. The whole force now marched to a point opposite to Ticonderoga, where a select number, amounting to only eighty-three men, under command of Col. Allen, crossed the lake on the morning of the 10th of May, and assaulted and captured the fortress with- out the loss of a man. The cannon, small arms and ball contained in it, rendered this achievement more important in the success of the revolutionary war than posterity can appreciate. The remainder of this party, under Major War- ner, of Connecticut, also crossed the lake, and took by surprise, the fortress of Crown Point, with more than one hundred pieces of cannon, arms, amunition, &c., — while Col. Arnold, who had embarked on the lake in a small schooner, had captured an English armed vessel, and brought her into Ticonderoga. Thus was a free communication with the Canadas secured by command of the lakes. JOSHUA SLOCUM. 55 The seizure of the important fortress of Ticonde- roga, by Col. Allen, is thus related by himself: — "The first systematic and bloody attempt at Lex- ington, to enslave America, thoroughly electrified my mind, and fully determined me to take a part with nay country ; and while I was wishing for an oppor- tunity to signalize myself in its behalf, directions were privately sent to me from the then colony, now state of Connecticut, to raise the Green n)ountain boys, and if possible with them to surprise and take the fortress of Ticonderoga. This enterprize I cheer- fully undertook ; and after first guarding all the sev- eral passes that led thither, to cut oif all intelligence between the garrison and the country, made a for- ced march from Bennington, and arrived at the lake opposite Ticonderoga, on the morning of the 8th day of May, 1775, with two hundred and thirty vahant Green mountain boys ; and it was with the utmost difficulty that I procured boats to cross the lake. However, I landed eighty-three near the gar- rison, and sent the boats back for the rear guard commanded by CoL Seth Warner ; but the day be- gan to dawn and I found myself necessitated to at- tack the fort before the rear could cross the lake ; and as it was hazardous, I harangued the officers and soldiers in the manner following : ' Friends and fellow soldiers — You have for a number of years past been a scourge and terror to arbitrary power. Your valor has been famed abroad, and acknowledged as it appears by the advice and orders to me from the 56 LIFE OF General Assembly of Connecticut, to surprise and take the garrison now before us. I now propose to advance before you, and in person conduct you thro' the wicket gate, for we must this morning either quit our pretensions to valor, or possess ourselves of this fortress in a few minutes ; and inasmuch as it is a desperate attempt, which none but the bravest of men dare undertake, I do not urge it on any contra- ry to his will. You that will undertake voluntarily poise your firelock P The men being at this time drawn up each poised his musket. I ordered them to face to the right ; and at the head of the centre file, marched them immediately to the wicket gate aforesaid, where I found a sentry posted, who in- stantly snapped his fusee at me. I ran immediately towards him, and he retreated through the covered way into the parade, within the garrison, gave a hal- lo, and ran under bomb proof. My party who fol- lowed me into the fort, 1 formed on the parade in such a manner as to face the barracks which faced each other. The garrison being asleep except the sentries, we gave three huzzas, which greatly sur- prized them. One of the sentries made a pass at one of my officers with a charged bayonet, and slightly wounded him. My first thought was to kill him with my sword, but in an instant I altered the design and fury of the blow, to a slight cut on the side of the head ; upon which he droppod his gun, and asked quarters, which I readily granted him ; and demand- ed . the place where the commanding officer kept. JOSHUA SLOCUM. 57 He shewed me a pair of stairs in the front, which led up to a second story in said barracks, to which I im- mediately repaired, and ordered the commander, Capt. Delaplace, to come forth instantly, or I would sacrifice the whole garrison ; at which time the Cap- tain came immediately to the door, with his breech- es in his hand, when I ordered him to deliver to me the fort instantly ; he asked me by whose authority I demanded it. I answered him, " In the name of THE Great Jehovah and the Continental Con- gress." The authority of Congress being very lit- tle known at that time he began to speak again, but I interrupted him, and with my drawn sword near his head, again demanded an immediate surrenderor the garrison ; with which he then complied, and or- dered his men to be forthwith paraded without arms, as he had given up the garrison. In the mean time some of my officers had given orders and in conse- quence thereof, sundry of the barrack doors were beat down, and about one third of the garrison im- prisoned, which consisted of said commander, a lieu- tenant Feitham, a conductor of artillery, a gunner, two sergeants, and forty-four rank and file ; about one hundred pieces of cannon, one thirteen inch mor- tar, and a number of swivels. This surprise was carried into execution in the grey of the morning of the 10th of May, 1775. The sun seemed to rise that morning with a superior lustre ; and Ticonde- roga and its dependencies, smiled on its conquerors, who tossed about the flowing bowl, and wished sue- 58 LIFE OP cess to Congress, and the liberty and freedom of America. Happy it was for mc at that time, that the future pages of the book of fate, which after- wards unfolded a miserable scene of two years and eight months imprisonment, were hid from my view." After the surrender of these fortresses, the prison- ers were marched to Hartford, Conn., where they were detained as prisoners of war. Among the number were Gov. Skeen, Major Skeen, (his son,) Maj. French, Capt. Delaplace, &c., besides women, children and several servants. Soon after their ar- rival here, Capt. Delaplace, late commandant of fort Ticonderoga, brought his petition to the General As- sembly, then in session at Hartford, in which he sta- ted that on the morning of the 10th of May, 1775, the garrison of the fortress of Ticonderoga had been captured ; and that neither the officers or soldiers held by the colony, had been guilty of any crime, and enquired by what authority Col. Allen acted, and why they were held as prisoners of war, asking at the same time the protection of the Assembly, and requesting an immediate enlargement. The Legisla- ture took no action on the petition of the valiant Cap- tain, but continued to hold them as prisoners of war. Fears being entertained that the prisonersjnight ef- fect their escape, some of them, by order of the Le- gislature, were removed to West Hartford, for their better security. Gov. Skeen, Major Skeen, and JOSHUA SLOCUM. 50 Major French, were among these. Gov. Skeen had his family with him. They took up their quarters at the house of widow Hooker, where they boarded at their own expense, about a year. Deposed from the gubernatorial chair by a handful of rebels, as he term- ed them— divested of his blushing honors, and cir- cumscribed in his rambles to a small country village, the wounded pride of the Governor and his house- hold could scarce brook control. They indulged in frequent taunts and jeers, and often grossly insulted the inhabitants. Even his negro John, it would seem, in a measure partook of the spirit of his master — es- pecially after he was elected to the high and honor- able office of " Governor of ihe Negro's of the Province of Connecticut." Their repeated insults highly incensed the people of West Hartford, and it was not till his ex-Excellency saw in course of preparation a coat of tar and feathers, that he was admonished that a civil tongue and more courteous demeanor, would alone save his back from its appli- cation. In May, 1775, the General Assembly directed the committee of the pay table, to give orders on the Treasurer of Connecticut for the payment of all per- sons who had expended moneys or given their writ- ten obligations therefor, or for personal service in ob- taining possession of Ticonderoga and Crown Point ; also for men and provisions used in taking and secur- ing said fortress, by any inhabitants of the colony, or others employed by them for that purpose. In May, 60 LIFE OP 1777, Samuel II. Parsons, Esq. informed by his me- morial to the General Assembly, that in April, 1775, himself, together with Col. Samuel Wyllys, and oth» ers, did undertake surprising and seizing the ene- my's fort at Ticonderoga, without the knowledge of said Assembly, and that for that purpose took a quan- tity of money from the Treasury, and gave their individual notes and receipts for said money, all which had been expended in said service ; and pray- ed the Assembly to cancel said notes and receipts so given to the Treasurer, which amounted to the sum of 810Z. The persons who signed these notes, &c. were Messrs. Parsons, Dean, Wyliis, Samuel Bishop, Jr., William Williams, Thomas Mumford, Adam Babcock, Joshua Porter, Jesse Root, Ezekiel Wil- liams, and Charles Webb ; which sum was directed to be charged over to the General Government, CHAPTER V. The vjounded SMier — Arrival of Gen, Washington at Cambridge — Organization of the Army, ^c. The wound received by my father in the battle which has been described, was of a more serious character than was at first apprehended, and came well-nigh being attended with fatal consequences. While in the heat of battle, with its consequent ex- citement, his every thought absorbed in the cause of his country, he was insensible to danger and forget- ful of personal suffering. Nor was his attention cal- led to his own situation, until he had ministered, as far as in him lay, to his woun^d, bleeding country- men. To alleviate their sufferings — to stanch their wounds, and administer consolation to the dying, was his only incentive to action. Although his heart was sickened and his humanity shocked at the appalling spectacle before him, still he did not intermit his friendly offices. Uninured to the camp and the hor- rors of the battle-field — a mere youth of sixteen, brought up in the peace and quietude of a country village — it was hardly to have been expected he could have sustained himself with so much fortitude 64 LIFE OF in such a trying emergency. It was, indeed, a try- ing time to him. There lay, scarred and mangled^ Weeding and expiring, the gay companion of hi» youth — here the man of hoary age, perforated with wounds — and there the middle aged, gasping in death, yet glorying in the cause of Liberty. To use his own expression — " his heart sickened at the scene before him — his brain reeled, and to adopt the language of the lamented Warren on another occa- sion — * he wildly stared about, and with amazement asked, who spread the ruin round him ? Has haugh- ty France or cruel Spain sent forth her myrmidons, or has the grim Savage, thirsting after slaughter, twanged his destructive bow and sent his poisoned arrows to our hearts ? No ; none of these — 'tis the hand of Britain that inflicts the wound." Recovering from his transient reverie, he again de- voted himself to his " labor of love," and it was not till every little act of kindness had been performed for his fellow suffereif , that his thoughts for once re- verted to himself. Admonished by the pain of his wound, that he had too long neglected it, he began seriously to think of his own case. Upon removing the bandage, it was found that by want of attention and over exertion day and night in the holy oflices he had been engaged in, his limb had become much swollen, a violent inflammation had set in, and it was feared mortification would take place. Added to this a violent fever ensued, and for some days his life was despaired of. But by the aid of a skillful physi- iOSHTJA SLOCUM. 65 cian and surgeon, and the best of nursing, he slowly recovered, and finally regained his wonted health and strength. During his protracted confinement, there was one who watched over him with anxious solicitude, and ministered to his every want — one who manifested more anxiety for his recovery than could father or mother, brother or sister — one whose purse was open to his wants, and whose thousand kindnesses alleviated his sufferings and disrobed pain of half its intensity. This ministering angel, this friend indeed, was the noble-harted, gallant soldier, Lieut. Allen, whose life was in jeopardy from a Brit- ish bayonet, the deadly thrust of which was parried by my father's rifle. This young officer had witnes- sed the noble bearing of our hero— had noted his in- domitable courage in battle, and felt he owed him a debt of gratitude for the great service he had render- ed him. He often spoke of him to his brother offi- cers, and intimated his intention, when an opportuni- ty presented, of favorably noticing him to Col. Pres- cott, and urging his claims to preferment. In a con- versation with my father, Lieut. Allen incidentally touched upon this subject, which elicited a reply which, while it excited his astonishment, inspired ad- miration for the disinterested patriotism that prompt- ed it. " It was not," said he, " for the honor or emolument of office that I abandoned home and all its endearments, for the perils and dangers of the tent- ed field. Higher and holier motives impelled me to action. Young as I am, I have not been an inatten- 6* 6^ LIFE OP tive observer of passing events. I have watched with a jealous eye the progressive inroads upon our rights by the motfier country — her wanton butchery of our citizens, and her unhallowed attempts to fix upon us a despotism more cruel, more iron-handed than that which prevails from the chill, dreary re- gions of Siberia to the borders of the Mediterranean, I have seen her mercenary troops sent hither to riv- it our chains, and bind us the firmer to this car of despotism — a soldiery whose every tread has been marked by desolation, rapine and death — polluting even the sanctuary of the dead. I have seen them burning our towns, plundering our citizens, and com- mitting other acts, in comparison with which even Cannibal attrocities would whiten into virtues. I have seen all this, ar*; with the oath of Hannibal to Hamilcar, have "sworn eternal hatred to these Ro- mans." I embarked in this holy cause as a volun- teer, but it is my intention, when a proper opportu- nity offers, to enlist into the Continental service, — and, believing that " the post of honor is a private station," I shall pertinaciously adhere to that position. Your kind offers to aid in my promotion, are duly appreciated, for which you will please accept my thanks. If it should be my good fortune again to do battle by your side, the recollection of the unmerit- ed favors I have received at your hands will operate as a new incentive to action, and inspire new confi- dence and courage. Although we may, perhaps, have a short respite from our toils and dangers, yet JOSHtTA SLOCITM. (57 in all human probability, we shall soon again be sum- moned to the field of battle— and, if I am among the living, that summons will receive from me a ready response. Yes, while this heart continues to beat, its every pulsation shall be for Liberty, and its last throb for God and CorNTRY.'^ Lieut. Allen being ordered from the station on bu- siness, after a hearty interchange of good feeling and a cordial shake of the hand, the parties separa- ted ; not, however, until the Lieutenant had assured his friend that he should keep him advised of his movements, and enjoining upon him, in the event of his wanting pecuniary or other assistance, to apprise him of it. Thus parted two congenial spirits ; but it will be seen that the fortunes of war again brought them into close proximity, and bound them together by firmer and more endearing associations. We will now turn our attention to the progress of the campaign. As military operations had commen- ced, it became necessary to designate a proper per- son as Commander in Chief of our forces. The se- cond Continental Congress being in session at Phil- adelphia, and this important duty devolving upon it, George Washington, a member of that body from Virginia, was unanimously selected as the man most eminently qualified to fill that high station, and to lead on our army to glory and victory. Whep this heart-cheering intelligence reached Cambridge, my father informed me that one long, loud and joyful acclamation rent the skies — each successive post 68 lifE Of catching the sound, till it was wafted through the en» tire line of the army, operating upon it like a shock of electricity upon a morbid system. If, continues he, the mere announcement of his appointment could create so much enthusiasm and awaken such joyous sensations through our ranks, what must have been the feelings inspired when, on the 2d of July, fifteen days from the date of his commission, Washington, in company with Gen. Lee, arrived at Head Quar- ters in Cambridge— when, for the first time, we were permitted to see, face to face, the great man who, under God, was destined to achieve the Indepen- dence of his country, and to lay broad and deep the foundation of this stupendous republic ? For myself I shall not attempt to describe it — language would fail in the attempt. The Commander in Chief, immediately on his ar- rival among us, commenced organizing the army, consisting of about 14,000 men, which he found in a sad condition, undisciplined, poorly armed and equip- ped, and to some extent lacking subordination. But he soon brought order out of confusion — introduced a stricter discipline, and gave a new character to the army. While Washington was thus employed, an expedi* tion was planned against the Canadas. One thou- sand men, under command of Gens. Schuyler and Montgomery had already moved on this expedition, by way of St. Johns, and Gen. Washington had or- dered Col. Arnold, with one thousand more, from JOSHUA SLOCUM. 69 Cambridge, by the way of Kennebeck river, to co- operate with him at Quebec. With this detachment it was my intention to have embarked, but was pre- vented, perhaps fortunately, from carrying out my design, by the receipt of the following letter from Lieut. Allen, which was placed in my hands while on my way to enrol myself: — Recruiting Station, Worcesterj ) July 20th, 1775. \ DearSlocum — Although, from the determined stand you took at the last interview I had v\^ith you, on the subject of adva/icement in the army, I may have but little hope of changing your views in regard to it, yet I have ventured once more to press the subject to your consideration, and to urge you to reconsider and revoke, what I call, your hastily formed resolu- tion. There are various and weighty reasons which conspire in my mind to induce you to adopt these suggestions ; and I sincerely hope that mature reflection, if it has not already wrought a change, will ultimately effect it. In thus urging upon you a departure from the course you have marked out for yourself, be assured, my friend, lam actuated by the kindest promptings of the heart. Determined as you are, to stand by your country through this her great struggle for Liberty, can your talents and known courage so successfully, or to so great a degree, ad- vance the cause of that country in the subordinate station you propose to move in, as in one more ele- 70 LIFE OP vated, more commanding, and where the influence of your example will have a more salutary effect ? I think not ; and I indulge the hope that you will yet view the subject in the same light as myself. Since last I saw you I have conversed with several officers on the subject of your promotion, who inform me that your name has been favorably spoken of at Head Quarters ; they say there is not a doubt of your re- ceiving a commission if you will accept of one. Re- flect well on this subject, and if, after reflection, your mind remains unchanged, then I have one question to ask you— -Will you join my company ? Having received a captain's commission, and ordered to re- cruit at this place, nothing would give me more pleas- ure than to have you by my side, except a compli- ance with the desire intimated above. Write me or pay me a visit immediately. I have much to say to you. In great haste, Affectionately yours, J, Allen, Joshua Slocum, Cambridge^ This letter also contained a friendly oflTering, which came very opportunely, as my finances were in a low state. I was not long in coming to a decision in this matter. It was the very opportunity I had sought for— so, abandoning my Canadian expedition, as soon as the proper arrangements could be made I was on my way to his quarters. JOSHUA SL0CU3I. 71 Fortunate, indeed, was it for me, as before remar- ked, that I received the above letter as I did, for Col. Arnold's expedition proved an entire failure, and was attended with more hardship and suffering than any enterprize undertaken during the war. In ascend- ing the Kennebeck, his troops had to encounter a strong and impetuous current, and were often oblig- ed to hall their boats up rapids and over dangerous and difficult falls. No less dangerous or difficult wag their march through an unexplored country of three hundred miles. In their route ihey had to encoun- ter swamps and woods, mountains and precipices. Superadded to this, their provisions failed, and to sus- tain life they were obliged to eat their dogs, cartouch- boxes and shoes. When distant an hundred miles from any human habitation, they divided their then remaining provisions, amounting to about four pints of flour to a man, and at thirty miles distant they had baked and eaten the last morsel. It was not till af- ter thirty days of toil and privation that they reach- the habitations of men. But to return. When I reached Worcester, I found Capt. Allen anxiously awaiting my arrival. Our meeting was cordial, and after the customary ■interchange of civilities, the all-absorbing business of the day was brought upon the tapis. As I expected, he went into a long train of reasoning to convince me of the folly, as he termed it, of the position I had taken — recapitulated all he had said in his letter — spake in flattering terms of my qualifications, (over- 72 LIFE OP rating them I assured him,)--and represented in glo\v» ing colors the advantages that would accrue to mo from heeding his advice. But all his talk fell profit- less upon the ear as water upon a seive. He found me, as he termed it, incorrigible ; and finally, pre- senting his muster-roll, he enquired in a tone which showed the intensity of his feeling, if I would place my name upon it, and thus, in a measure, inden- tify my fortunes with his in the great struggle before us. A willing mind gave a quick assent, and a ready hand promptly responded to its bidding. My signa- ture was affixed to it, and in my sixteenth year 1 be- came a soldier in the continental army. Such was the spirit that was aroused, that recruits poured in from every quarter and enrolled themselves in the glorious cause. The duties of the recruiting station being arduous, the Captain desired me to officiate as clerk, in which capacity I continued to serve till we were ordered to Head-Quarters, which we reached with 68 recruits, (several squads having been pre- viously despatched) on the 24th of September. The army had now became augmented by regulars and militia to about 15,000 — the main body of which was posted at Cambridge, under the immediate guardi- anship of the Commander in Chief. The right rest- ed on Roxbury under Gen. Ward, and the left was posted on Prospect Hill, under Gen. Lee. Some 3000 men filled the interstices, under the command of Gen. Putnam. Thus posted, we held a control^ ling power, which left the enemy in a stat« of siege. JOSlllTA SLOCUM. 73 This position we maintained through the winter, although exposed to imminent danger in the event of an attack of the enemy, which was daily expected. The wants of the army, too, were great and truly embarrassing' — especially were we lacking in artimu* nition, bayonets, camp equipage, engineers, &c. But the same zeal that had warmed us into action con- tinued to animate and inspire us, and we were ena- bled to surmount all these difficulties* Had the en- emy been aware of our vulnerable and assailable points, our position would have been a very unpleas* ant one, as sure defeat would have followed. At the urgent solicitation of Gen. Washington, Congress authorized the raising of additional troops, and by the fourth of March our army, numbering near 15,000, was increased to about 20,000. Thus encouraged, the commander in chief commenced op* erations in good earnest. Early in the spring of '76 he contemplated the expulsion of the British from Boston, by direct assault, but a council of war hav- ing been assembled, it was decided to take posses- sion of and fortify Dorchester Heights, thus com- manding Boston harbor and the British shipping. Accordingly on the night of the 4th of March, the detachment at Roxbury, amounting to about 2,000 men, was ordered to take possession of these heights, which was accomplished unobserved by the enemy. Well supplied with entrenching tools, and all the ne- cessary appliances, we betook ourselves to the work with so much zeal and activity, that before morning 74 LIFE or we had constructed fortifications which completely sheltered and secured us from the guns of the ene- my, and left them entirely at our mercy. The as- tonishment of the British on the morning of the 5th can be better imagined than described. The Eng- lish admiral saw the imminent danger of his fleet, and Gen. Howe the danger of his army. Thus situated, he sent a flag of truce to the American head quar- ters, informing Gen. Washington of his intention to evacuate Boston — which they did on the night of the 16th of March, taking with them about 1500 tories, with their families. Scarce had the rear guard of the British embarked on board their fleet, when we, with Gen. Washington at our head, marched in tri- umph into the town. Great, indeed, was the rejoic- ing of the Bostonians at our triumphant entry. For sixteen months they had suffered every thing at the hands of a brutal soldiery. With sacrilegious tread the houses of public worship had been invaded — the pews and benches demolished and consumed for fu- el — stores forcibly entered and plundered of goods to clothe their troops — dwellings pillaged to satisfy their hunger, and in short, every excess indulged in that a cruel and wanton enemy could commit. CHAPTER VI. Removal of Head Quarters to New York — Declara^ Hon of Independence — Battle on Long Island — Defeat of the Americans — ^Retreat from Long IsU and — Evacuation of New York, <^c, ^c* Soon after the evacuation of Boston by the Brit- ish, it became apparent to Washington that it would be a favorite object with them to take possession of New York. He therefore determined to make that his head quarters, and accordingly in July he remov- ed thither with the principal part of the army. In the mean time the Declaration of Indepen- dence had been drawn up and signed, and was re- ceived by the people throughout the country with joyful acclamations. In New York especially, it was an occasion of unbounded rejoicing. Public processions were made, bells rung, cannons fired, the ensigns of royalty demolished, and every de- monstration of patriotic feeling manifested. The huge statue of George III. which stood on the pub- lic square, was surrounded by our company — a long rope attached to his neck, and, amid loud huzzas, it was razed to the ground, and the lead of which it 7* 78 LIPB OF was composed, converted into bullets* To me was assigned the pleasing duty of affixing the rope to this representative of royalty. How much would this pleasure have been enhanced, and what untold bles- sings would have accrued to suffering humanity, had the king in person been present to receive the noose around his royal throttle I The command of the British forces destined to op- erate against New York, was given to Admiral Lord Howe and his brother Sir William. On the 28th of June, Gen. Howe arrived at Sandy Hook, near New York, with his armament from Halifax, where he was joined by his l;)rother on the 12th of July, with another armament — their combined forces amount- ing to about twenty-four thousand men. Our army numbered about seventeen thousand, a part of which force was encamped at Brooklyn, Long Island — the regiment to which I was attached being stationed at that place. On the 2d of August, the enemy landed their en- tire force near the Narrows, nine miles from the city. A battle being now inevitable, preparations were made to meet them manfully. On this occasion Gen. Washington issued the following general or- der which was read through the lines : — " The enemy have now landed upon Long Island — ^the hour is fast approaching in which the honor and success of this army, and the safety of our bleed- ing country depend. Remember, officers and sol- JOSHUA SLOCtTM* *t^ diers, that you are freemen, fighting for the blessings of Hberty 5 that slavery will be your portion, and that of your posterity, if you do not acquit your- selves like men. Remember how your courage has been despised and traduced by your cruel invaders, though they have found by dear experience at Bos- ton, Charlestown, and other places, what a few men can do in their own land, and in the best of causes, against hirelings and mercenaries. Be cool, be de- termined. Do not fire at a distance, but wait for or- ders from your officers.'* Knowing the vast disparity of our forces, (the en- emy having nearly double our number,) I confess I went into this engagement with many fearful fore- bodings. But the justice of the cause, and the bold and inspiring language of our officers, enabled me to meet the crisis with firmness. It soon came. On the 27th of August, our army at Brooklyn, under Brigadier Gen. Sullivan, was attacked by the Brit- ish under Sir Henry Clinton and Lord Cornwallis, and after a severe engagement, we were routed and repulsed at every point, with the loss of upwards of one thousand men. Our company suffered severely in this engagement, being in the hottest of the ac- tion ; our loss was ten killed and seven wounded. Capt. Allen received a slight wound in the hand, and had part of his epaulet shot away. The English loss was comparatively small in the engagement, not ex- ceeding four hundred. <80 LIFE OP After this severe defeat, a council of officers was convened, and Gen. Washington, perceiving the oc- cupation of Long Island impracticable, ordered are- treat. Accordingly on the night of the 29th this op- eration was commenced, and it would seem as if the hand of heaven was especially interposed in our be- half on this occasion. Our army, consisting of about nine thousand men, with their artillery, tents, bag- gage, &:c., was transported to New York, over a difficult ferry, a mile in width, and this, too, while a powerful enemy, flushed with victory, lay encamped within six hundred yards of us, and were wholly un- apprehensive of our movements! Never was a re- treat conducted with more prudence and discretion, and never was a wily enemy more thunder-struck and amazed than were the British, when, on the morning of the 30th, they discovered we had aban- doned our camp during the night, and made safe our retreat. As the rising sun dispelled the dense fog which had enveloped and screened us from the ob- servation of the enemy, they now discovered the rear guard of our army safely embarked, and too far advanced to be reached by their shot. Our regi- ment was the last to leave the encampment, and our company among the last that embarked on board the boats. The same boat that conveyed us across the ferry, bore also the immortal Washington and his suite. Notwithstanding the urgent and repeated im- portunities of his staff and other officers, he lingered upon the shore till the last remnant of his army had . JOSHUA SLOCUM. 81 embarked, and then with majestic tread, he entered the boat. He, however, evidently felt depressed, and the inward workings of his mind were clearly shadowed forth in his rueful countenance. Two of his favorite generals, (Stirling and Woodhull,) had fallen into the hands of the enemy, and hundreds of his best troops had been killed and wounded in the engagement. The calm serenity which usually sat upon his countenance, seemed on this occasion to have deserted it, and a deep gloom came over him as he conversed with his brother officers on the sub- ject, all of whom seemed to partake of the same feel- ing at the eventful, the alarming crisis before them. It being evident that we could not maintain our position in New York, we abandoned it on the 14th of September, when the British immediately took possession of it. Our army, now greatly reduced by desertion, sickness and defection, occupied for a short time the heights of Harlem, where on the 16th a skirmish ensued, when our troops charged the en- emy with great intrepidity, and gained a decided ad- vantage over them. In this skirmish Capt. Allen re- ceived a slight wound in the arm, and my cap was perforated with a bullet. Col. Knowlton and Major Leitch both fell in this engagement, while bravely fighting at the head of their troops. The loss of the Americans in this skirmish in killed and wounded was about fifty— that of the enemy was more than double that number. Deeming our position no longer tenable, the com- 82 LIFE OP mander in chief pushed on his forces to White Plains, where on the 28th of October, we were attacked by the British and Hessians. A sharp rencounter ensu- ed, and some three hundred fell on both sides. Here, to my certain knowledge, my trusty rifle per- formed its duty to a charm. Brought into immedi- ate contact, as was our regiment, with De Hester*s mercenary Hessian troops, no less than ten of them, in the brief period in which we were engaged, felt the effect of its deadly and unerring aim — among the number an officer who figured conspicuously in their ranks. I had conceived an utter detestation and ab- horrence for these wretched hirelings, who, for filthy lucre would sell their souls, and who had poured in upon us in swarms, to fight the battles of another country, and aid in our subjugation ; and when we were drawn up in battle array, and could scan the faces of the accursed miscreants, a strange sensation came over me — an unwonted spirit infused itself in- to my whole system, and I could scarce await the order which, sure I was, would send at least one of them to perdition. Our position was such that the wind, which was somewhat high, cleared the smoke at every successive discharge, and enabled us to talce deliberate aim. How my heart bounded, as at each discharge of my rifle a stalwart Hessian fell ! In this engagement I escaped without a scratch, and but two of our company were wounded, and those slightly. On this occasion I received a high enco- mium from the Colonel of the regiment, and my old JOSHUA SLOCUM. 88 friend, Capf. Allen, as usual, spoke of my bearing with marked approbation. The British receiving a strong reinforcement, un- der Lord Percy, it was deemed unsafe longer to re- tain our position here, and accordingly on the night of the 30th October, Washington pushed on his for- ces to New Castle, about five miles from White Plains. Leaving about 7000 men, under command of Gen. Lee, the commander in chief crossed the North river, and posted himself in the neighborhood of Fort Lee ; but soon after moved on to Newark. Here his forces were endangered, being in too close proximity to the enemy, who had just taken two of our forts, (Washington and Lee,) with near 3000 men. Newark was, therefore, abandoned, and our retreat continued to Brunswick, from Brunswick to Princeton, from Princeton to Trenton, and from thence to the Pennsylvania side of the Delaware. Our retreat through these towns was hurried and tiresome in the extreme, tearing down in our rapid course, the bridges we had passed, falling trees, and in other ways obstructing the roads. But so hot was the pursuit, that the van of the enemy's army trod close upon the heels of our rear, and would com- mence rebuilding the bridges we had demolished, within gun-shot of us. These were really trying times. At no period since the breaking out of hostilities, had the affairs of the colonists worn so gloomy an aspect. The peri- od for which many of the militia had enlisted, wag 84 LIFE OF about expiring, and, discouraged, disheartened, and despairing, they dennanded a discharge, and abandon- ed the ranks for their homes. A deep and settled gloom came over all. Even the regular troops be- gan to exhibit a spirit of insubordination, and were deserting in vast numbers. Ten of our company de- serted in one squad, but were brought back, severe- ly reprimanded, and assured that a repetition of the offence would be visited with severe chastisement. These desertions, and the great losses which had preceded them, reduced our army to about four thousand men- — and even this remnant were poorly supplied with provisions, intrenching tools and tents to shelter them from the inclemency of the weather. Nor was this all. We were quartered in a section of country where a zeal for the good cause was wo- fully deficient- — a part of whose inhabitants sustain- ed an equivocal character, or were decidedly friend- ly to the mother country — some of their leading men, those who had heretofore been decidedly friendly to the cause of liberty, having sent in their adhesion to the enemy. But the master mind of Washington did not cower under all these complica- ted difficulties. The exigencies of the times inspir- ed new courage and renewed exertions, and he went forward nothing doubting or despairing of achieving the liberties of the country. At this eventful crisis he fortunately received re- inforcements of regular troops and militia, which in- creased his army to about seven thousand effective JOSHUA SLOCUM. 85 men. In January, however, there would be a great reduction of this force by the expiration of the term of the mihlia of some of the States. Washington de- termining lo avail himself of their services while yet they were under his command, formed the bold de- sign of recrossing the Delaware and attacking the Hessians, then encamped at Trenton. I never shall forget the feeling that came over me, when Captain Allen privately communicated to me the contempla- ted expedition. My hand involuntarily seized the faithful rifle — a new flint was carefully substituted for the old — the barrel thoroughly cleansed, and a plenti- ful supply of the " leaden messenger" placed in the cartouch-box. The reflection that I was soon to have another opportunity of meeting the Hessians in the field, fairly electrified me, and I felt as though I could go into the contest as a mere pastime. So anx- ious was I for the rencounter, that the few hours that intervened before the order was given for embarking seemed like so many weeks to me. The 25th of December was the time fixed to car» ry this bold enterprize into effect. We arrived at the banks of the Delaware just at night-fall, in the expectation of crossing our troops before midnight. But the river being obstructed with floating ice, and the weather so intensely cold, we did not eflect our landing until near four o'clock in the morning. We then made a forced march towards Trenton, but a severe snow storm setting in, accompanied with rain, hail, sleet, and a dense fog, we did not reach there 8 86 LIFE OV until about eight o'clock. A more cold, gloomy, cheerless and disheartening night and morning, can scarce be imagined. It seemed as though the very elements had conspired against us, and had I indul- ged in augury, I should have ventured the predic- tion that a fatal issue awaited our expedition. But the Almighty overrules eveiy thing for good — for to these causes, in a great measure, may be attribn- uted the fact, that at the late hour of 8 o'clock in the morning, the enemy were taken by surprize, not hav- ing the least intimation of our approach. The read- er will pardon me when I say, that I was somewhat disappointed at the result of this expedition — not at its successful issue, but that I had not an opportuni- ty of again testing the superior excellence of my ri- fle. Deem me not blood-thirsty or revengeful, (as this remark might render me obnoxious to the im- putation,) for such feelings do not enter into my com- position. But as remarked in another place, I had conceived an abhorrence for these mercinaries that I could not divest myself of — an operation of the mind which I could not control. The result of this expedition was the capture of an entire regiment of Hessians, amounting to about one thousand men, with scarce the loss of a man on our part. In the hurry of disembarking, two men were lost overboard and drowned — one of them be- longing to our company. He was a brave soldier and much beloved by his mess. Our army was now securely posted at Trenton ;■ JOSHTIA SLOCUM. BT but the commander in chief determining to follow up his advantages, proceeded to Princeton, where we encountered a party of British, and after a sharp conflict, victory perched upon our banners. The enemy lost about one hundred killed, and the remain- der of their force, (amounting to about three hun- dred,) were made prisoners. Our loss was about fifty killed and twenty-five wounded. Among the killed was the brave General Mercer, and a number of other valuable officers ; among those dangerously wounded, was the brave, the chivalrous, the accom- plished Allen ! — he whose fortunes I had follow- ed thus far through the campaign, and whose toils and privations and dangers I had shared. In the early part of the engagement he received a slight wound, but continued to fight on, cheering and en- couraging his men ; another wound nearly disabled his sword arm — still he remained firm as cloudy Atlas, spurring us on the fierce encounter. Fate saw and marked him as a victim I Another ball pierced his body ! and yet another ! — still he main- tained the contest till failing nature obliged him to abandon the field. He now despatched his Lieuten- ant to inform me of his situation, and to assist in con- veying him to his quarters. Who can speak the bit- ter anguish I experienced, when I first beheld him, pale, weak, and bleeding at every wound ! As I ap- proached him, he extended his trembling hand to me, and exclaimed — " Ah I friend Slocum, I fear all is over with me — I already feel the hand of death 88 LIFE OF upon me. I shall need your assistance in this trying crisis. You have been to me, thus far, as my right hand to its fellow. Do not desert me now." His weakness prevented further utterance. But his bear- ing was still noble and soldierly, and his frank and clear eye had lost little of its lustre. For myself, I could not reply. I essayed to the task, but the tongue refused its office. We conveyed him to his quarters, where surgeons were in attendance to dress his wounds, and where every attention and kindness were extended to him that humanity could suggest. It is needless to say that I was always by his side, ministering to all his wants, imparting hope and consolation, and not un- frequently expressing an opinion that his wounds would not prove mortal. But he was satisfied that the tide of life was fast ebbing — that the last sands of his glass were nearly run. And when, on the suc- ceeding morning, his surgeons informed him that his case was hopeless, the announcement was received with calm resignation. Buoyed up and sustained by that holy religion of which he had long been a pro- fessor, and which through life he had exemplified by a well ordered walk and conversation — and without which no man can die happy — he had no fears of the grim tyrant. Death. He wished, however, to live for his country — he wished to live to see that coun- try disenthralled, happy and free. But Providence decreed otherwise, and he cheerfully acquiesced ia the fiat. JOSHUA SLOCUM. 8% Satisfied that the hour of dissolution was near at hand, he made the necessary disposition of his tem- poral affairs — assigned to me the duty of fulfilling his intentions^ — and, commending himself to his God, he sank into a sweet sleep. A part of the time he appeared a little delirious ; and I noticed, while watching over him, that there was something yet on his mind of which he wished to unburthen it. An occasional ejaculation which now and then escaped him during his slumber, confirmed me in this belief. On awaking, he beckoned me to his side and, in an almost inaudible voice, informed me that he was affi- anced to a young lady in W— — . He gave me her address— spoke of her in the highest terms of ad- miration, and required of me an assurance that I would communicate to her his dying words, which were — '^' that he was trite in death." His mind being thus relieved of its burthen, he again closed his eyes in sleep — but alas ! it was the sleep of death I Thus died as devout a Christian, as bold a Soldier, as ripe a Scholar, and as " stout a gentleman" as the army of Washington could boast of, of his grade. I shall not attempt his eulogy ; for to depict his char- acter in its true colors, encomium would faulter for want of expression. Suffice it to say, that his high moral pre-eminence — his pure and lofty aspirations — his rich and generous feelings — his bold and noble bearing — his indomitable courage in battle, and his eminent Christian virtues, endeared him to all who had the pleasure of his acquaintance. In view of all 8* do uf^ of his noble qualities, I cannot forbear the exclamaf iomfy *' Death, cruel spoiler ! thou hast done thy utmost !" The following day, the remains of the lamented Allen were interred, with funeral honors — nearly all the officers in the field being present. Allen stood high among his brother officers, as the profound grief they manifested on this occasion abundantly testified. " Soft rest his ashes, 'till the God of Battles Calls him io Vict'ry." Scarce had the last spade of earth fallen upon the grave of my departed friend, ere I sat me down, with an aching heart, to fulfil his parting injunction — that of informing his betrothed, by letter, of his melancholy demise* Never did I perform a more heart-rending duty. The falling tear moistened the sheet as I wrote.* Our army, soon after the cheering victories which have just been described, went into winter quarters at Morristown, on the 6th of January, 1777, where *In looking over the numerous letters and docilments left by my deceased father, my eye has luckily fallen up- on a copy of the identical letter referred to above. The chirography is very plain, but in the antiquated style of that day, and though the hand of time has somewhat de- faced it, still it is quite legible. Presuming the reader might be gratified with the perusal of a revolutionary rel-' ifOSHUA SLOCUii. dt the small pox making its appearance among the troops, the principal part of the army were inocula* ted. Having been previously vaccinated for this loathsome disease, I v^'as screened from its attack, and was thus enabled to attend to the sick around me ; a duty which I cheerfully performed* The dis* ic which has been preserved with so much care through a long series of years^ I have made a transcript of it, which is here subjoined. — [Compiler* Cctmpi Princeton, N. J, Dec. 29, 1776. Miss Julia H - ey^ Madam — The sad emblem of mourning affixed to this communication, ere yet your trembling hand had broken itj must have prepared you for unwelcome intel- ligence. Unwelcome, heart-rending intelligence, indeed, does it bear to you ; and while performing the melan* choly duty devolved upon me, allow me to mingle my tears of grief with yours, and to sympathize with you in in your deep affliction. I approach the task with an ach* ing heart, bat it is a duty I must perform* Know, then, that him in whom all your earthly affections were cen- tered — the noble, the high-minded, the gallant Allen, is no more ! He expired at half-past four yesterday af- ternoon, from wounds received in battle at this place, the day previous. In this engagement his cool intrepidity and dauntless courage were conspicuously displayed. Although pierced with many wounds, he continued to do battle until he fell from loss of blood and exhaustion. He 9fi LIFE OP ease, however, was of a very mild type ; so much so, that had the enemy made an attack, we should have had efficient men enough to have met them. It soon disappeared under proper treatment, but few falling victims to it. Both armies were now in winter quar- survived his wounds about twenty-four hours, during which time I was constantly by his side, attending to all his necessities. Convinced that he could not survive his wounds, he made the necessary disposition of his wordly affairs- — confided to me the relation in which he stood to you, and imposed upon me the painful task I am now performing, of acquainting you with his last moments. Never shall I forget, madam, the calm serenity which set- tled on his manly countenance, as he contemplated his approaching dissolution. His firmness never for a mo- ment forsook him. That religion of which he had long been a professor and an ornanirjnt, now cams to his aid, mid sustained and upheld him in his dying moments. It was only when his thoughts reverted to you, that a sad- ness came over him ; and then a sigh would escape him, mingled with a regret that that you could not be present to receive a renewed assurance of his attachment, and witness his fidelity in death. Whether sleeping or waking, his thoughts seemed turned on you ; and once or twice in his slumbers, the name of Julia ! audibly es. caped his lips. In you seemed centred all that endeared him to earth. For you and his country he wished to live. But Death, " who loves a shining mark," selected him for his victim, and cut him down in the prime of his JOSHUA SLOCUM. 93 lersf, and inactive. For myself, I confess that this temporary relaxation from duty was exceedingly desirable, as I had become greatly debilitated by excessive fatigue in the battle-field, and in attendance upon the sick and wounded. mandhood, and in the midst of his usefulness. But be fell in a glorious cause, — " And when he called to min^ his deeds Done for his country in the embattled field, He thought of that good cause for which he died. And it was joy in death." I could add much more on this melancholy subject, but the duties of the camp summon me to my post, and I must close. As soon as my term of service expires, I shall, before re-enlisting, visit your place, and will then personally communicate to you many other interesting particulars connected with this sad bereavement. In the mean time, madam, accept the assurances of my high consideration and regard. Your friend in affliction, Joshua Slocum. CHAPTER VII. Opening of the Campaign of 1111 — Re-enlistment — Battles of Brandywine and Germantown — Defeat of the Americans J <^c. ^-c. Having already reached the limits prescribed for this work, the compiler is reluctantly compelled to curtail, condense, and in many instances, entirely omit, much of the interesting matter contained in his father's manuscripts — so that what should prop- erly be spread over at least four extended chapters, is necessarily compressed into one. This is particu- larly regretted, as the lengthy details he has given of the part he personally took in many of the battles we shall merely have room to glance at, and in which he figured conspicuously, would much interest the reader. There is also much anecdote, and many pleasing reminiscences scattered through his papers, which we shall be compelled entirely to omit. Should this work, however, meet with a favorable reception at the hands of the public, the compiler promises, in a subsequent edition, greatly to improve it, and to render it more deserving of patronag^. JOSHUA SLOCUM. 95 So much by way of apology. We will now pro- ceed to the completion of the narrative, begging the reader to pardon the hurried manner in which an in- teresting portion of it is passed over. At the opening of the campaign of 1777, our ar- my amounted to only about 7000 men ; although Congress had offered great inducements in lands and increased wages, for recruits. But little was effect- ed by either army through the summer months, al- though marchings and countermarchings were kept up, without any settled or definite plan of operation. In July, the term of two years, the period of my en- listment, expired. But having sworn to stand by my country through her great struggle for liberty, I could not, in this, her hour of gloom and despon- dency, desert her. Previous to re-enlisting, howev- er, I determined to fulfil the dying request of my friend, Captain Allen — that of personally communi- cating with the young lady to whom he was effiian- ced, and of informing her more fully, of his last mo- ments. I therefore, made a hasty visit to W , and was soon in the presence of Miss H****y. She was a splendid woman — well educated, and in every respect worthy of the gallant soldier to whom she had plighted her vows. I found her, however, in deep despondency, and shrouded in the habili- ments of mourning. Our meeting, as might well be expected, was an affecting one indeed. I spent sev- eral days at the hospitable mansion of her father, the greater part of the time in her society. She ask- 56 LIFE OP ed me a thousand questions in relation to Captain Allen, and his last moments, and my replies seemed to impart comfort and consolation to her troubled bo- som. My health had become much improved by my brief sojourn in the country, and when I intima- ted to her my intention of departing, she pressed me to stay still longer, as she had much more to say to me. But when I spoke of my bleeding coun- try, and the necessity of my being at my post, a beam of celestial brightness irradiated her counte- nance, and seizing my hand, she exclaimed, — " Go, gallant youth ! Fight the battles of your country — achieve its Liberties — and avenge the death of my beloved James 1" Placing in her hand a ring worn by Captam Allen on the day of the battle and a lock of his hair, which he had requested me to present to her as a memento, I bade her farewell, and with a heavy heart, retraced my steps to the scene of danger — the last words she had uttered still ringing in mine ear. I reached head quarters about the first of Septem- ber ; re-united myself to the army of Washington, and, with renewed health and strength, and stronger incentives to action, entered upon a new campaign. The British army, under Gen. How, consisting of about sixteen thousand men, had left New Jersey, and sailed for the Chesapeake. On the 14th of Au- gust, they landed at the head of Elk river, Maryland, with the evident intention of occupying Philadelphia. Gen. Washington, divining their object, immediately JOSHUA SLOCUM. 97 put his army in motion for that place, to prevent, if possible, its falling into their hands. On the 11th of September the two armies came in contact at Bran- dywine, when a sanguinary engagement ensued, which continued, with little intermission, through the day. There was much hard fighting, and for a long time the issue was doubtful, but the superior force of the enemy finally compelled us to abandon the field. This was the hardest day's work that I had been cal- led upon to perform since joining the army. In the course of the day I received two wounds — one in the arm, and another near the ankle, but they were of so slight a character, that I was enabled to remain at my post through the entire battle. I however, subsequently experienced some inconvenience from these wounds. Our estimated loss in this day's bat- tle, was about three hundred killed and six hundred wounded. The enemy's loss was not far from one hundred killed and four hundred wounded. The enemy made prisoners of about three hundred and fifty of our men, but they were mostly the wounded. Gen. Lafayette, who had greatly distinguished him- self in the engagement, was wounded in the leg. Deeming the battle of Brandywine as indecisive, Washington, by the advice of Congress, recrossed the Schuylkill on the 16th September, and encoun- tered the enemy at Goshen. A violent rain storm setting in, our powder became wet, and after a short skirmish, in which my rifle refused to perform its duty, we retired from the field. 9 518 . LIFE OF There being several forts on the Delaware whicFi greatly annoyed the enemy, and rendered the navi- gation of the river extremely hazardous, Gen. Howe's attention was directed to their reduction, an-d a part of his army was drawn off for this purpose. Their force thus reduced. Gen. Washington was induced to risk an attack upon their remaining force at Ger- mantown — w-hich attack was made on the 4th of October, and resulted in our complete discomfiture — the enemy fighting like demons with justified spirits. In no previous engagement in which 1 i>ad participa- ted, had the enemy presented so bold a front — and in no instance had their bullets whistled around me with such deadly effect. On my right and left they told a dreadful story ; but I escaped unharmed, the sleeve of my coat being merely bored with one of them, slightly breaking the skin. Unlike the skir- mish of the preceding day, my powder was in good condition, and every crack of my rifle told. Our loss was two hundred killed, five hundred wounded, and near four hundred taken prisoners. The British loss was about half this number. The British now, unmolested, marched into Phil- adelphia, and took up winter quarters — Congress having previously adjourned from that place to Lan- caster. Our army took up its head quarters at Val- ley Forge, on the Schuylkill, fifteen miles from thence. Whilst the enem}'^ were rioting on all the comforts and luxuries of a rich and populous city, famine JOSHUA SLOCUM. 90; sitired our army in the face. We were scarce half fed — were destiiute of comfortable clothing, and blankets to shield us from the inclemency of the weather — were woefully deficieiit in shoes, and near- ly half our army were compelled to walk barefoot, in mid winter, over frozen ground and snow. Many of our army sickened., and thousands w€re rendered unfit for duty. Fortunat-ely for me, I had funds in gold and silver, which the lamented Allen had pre- sented me on his death-bed ; but such was the desti- tute condition of the surrounding country, that even with this I could scarce obtain the necessary ar- ticles of food and clothing. On the 18th of June, the British evacuated Phila- delphia, crossed the Delaware, and retreated to- wards New York. Aj)prized of their movement, a detachment of our army had been despatched by Washington to aid the New Jersey militia in staying their progress — whilst he, with the main body, cros- sed the Delaware in pursuit. On the 28th, the two armies met at Monmouth, when a severe and bloody battle ensued, in which we obtained a decided ad- vantage, our army remaining on the field through the night, with a view of renewing the attack in the morning. But the enemy, availing themselves of the darkness of the night, had made good their retreat to New York. ^,,1^ ,;. In this engagement both armies suffered greatly from the intense heat of the day. No less than fifty or sixty of the enemy fell dead from this cause, and 100 LIFE OF many of our troops died in like manner. For my- self, I suffered almost beyond endurance. My tongue became so much swollen as to protrude from my mouth, and I was borne from the field almost insen- sible and lifeless. It was many days befo?*e I recov- ered from this prostration. Our loss in the engage- ment was about seventy killed — among the number several officers ; and one hundred and fifty wound- ed. The British loss w-as much greater, being about one hundred and fifty killed'and two hundred wound- ed ; one hundred prisoners were taken, and they lost by desertion about one thousand men. It will be impossible for the compiler, in the lim- ited space assigned him, to follow his father through the eventful campaign that ensued ; or to give to the reader even a synopsis of the remainder of the inter- esting journal and manuscripts he left behind him. Suffice it, then, to say, that he was at the storming of Stony Point, where his indomitable bravery was conspicuously displayed, and where he re- ceived a severe wound — was subsequently engaged in many skirmishes with the enemy — i\nd finally wound up his eventful military career, covered witV honorable wounds, at the memorable battle of YorkJ town, where the proud Cornwallis was compelled to yield to the superior prowess of our arms, and surrendered his whole army, amounting to more thai> seven thousand men, and one hundred and sixty- pieces of ordnance, principally brass, to the victori- ous Washington. With the exception of here and JOSHUA. sLocuar. |j94^ there a slight skirmish, this battle substantially clos- ed the war of the revolution. On the 19th of April, proclamation was made through the army, of the cessation of hostilities, and the few rejiiaining posts held by the British were soon evacuated — Savannah in July, New York ia November, and Charleston in October. ■ r] The 3d of November having been fixed upon, by Congress for disbanding the army, the commander in chief, in farewell orders, bade an affectionate adieu to his soldiers. The following are his closing words. " Being now to conclude this, his last public or- ders, to take liis ultimate leave, in a short time, of the military character, and to bid a final adieu to the armies he has so long had the honor to command, he can only again offer in their behalf, his recom- mendations to their grateful country, and his prayer to the God of armies. May ample justice be done them here, and may the choicest favor, both here and hereafter, attend those who, under the divine auspices, have secured innumerable blessings for oth- ers. With these wishes, and this benediction, the commander in chief is about to retire from service. The curtain of separation will soon be drawn, and the military scene to him will close forever." These were the last words of the father of his country, on taking leave of the gallant band who had fought shoulder to shoulder with him, through the bloody conflict that resulted in our National In- dependence, and secured to us a constitution of civil, 9* lOSf LiPK or government which may justly be pronounced " the most stupendous fabric of human invention." What a position does our country now exhibit, when con- trasted with its condition at the close of the revolu- tion ! at the period when the leader of its victorious armies took his farewell of them I If the spirits of the illustrious dead were permitted to look down from their resting places in Heaven upon the trans- actions of this nether world, what would be the joy of the immortal Washington at beholding the mighty change which half a century has produced in our moral, social, and political condition ! But we must hasten to the close of our narrative. The printer is at our elbow, and limits us to the brief space of five pnges at farthest. Hence much that we would wish tosny, must be passed by suh silent io, and the remainder given multum in parvo, as Busteed would say. It has been seen that my father, true to his solemn asseveration, on entering the service, served faithful- ly through the entire war ; at the expiration of which he received an honorable discharge, accompanied with an high encomium from his officers for the gal- lant services he had rendered his country. But how poorly were these services requited ! He had spent eight years of the most valuable part of his life in fighting for the liberties of his country, and when he retired from the service, the miserable trash with which he was paid off was altogether unavailable — good for nothing. But the reader has seen of what JOSHUA SLOCT7M. 103 unflinching stuff he was made. He did not fight for honor, office or emohiment — the sacred cause of his country was nearest his heart ! For her he fought — for her he bled ! — and it was pay and glory enough for him, to know that he had contributed to render that country Free. His was pure patriotism — self- ishness had no admixture in his composition. Would to God that the boasted friends of Liberty of the present day partook, at all, of the spirit that actuated him ! About two years after the close of the war, my father married a Miss Dunn, the daughter of a very respectable farmer in Northbridge, Mass., by whom he had twelve cliildren. For several years he fol- lowed the profession of fanning, and acquired some property — which, with the sum Capt. Allen had left him, (being about $800,) placed him in very easy cir- cumstances. But the mania for speculation, then, as now, existed to a considerable extent, and he be- came a victim to it. Having two brothers in Nova- Scotia, who had migrated thither with his father during the war, and learning that provisions and oth- er merchandize commanded a high price there, he was induced to frieght a vessel with an assorted cargo for that place. Having invested nearly all his funds in this speculation, he sailed from Boston on the ISth of November, 1789, in the fond antici- pation of realizing a little fortune from the adventure. But in this he was doomed to disappointment. He not only lost all the money he had invested, but came 104 LIFE Of well nigh losing his life. He arrived at his port of destination in mid-winter, and disposed of his entire cargo to one Levi Thayer, who was reputed to be a merchant of good standing, but who afterwards prov- ed to be a most consummate villain. In payment for his cargo, Thayer gave him a draft upon a ficti^ tious house in a neighboring town, which he assured him would be duly honored on presentation ; and advised him, as the nearest route, to traverse Port Rosway woods, it being but one day's journey. Pro- viding himself with snow shoes and provisions for the day, he proceeded on his journey, the marked trees indicating his route. Night overtook him, and he found himself in a vast wilderness, far from the habitations of men. With his snow shoes he dug a hole in the snow, which was near tliree feet deep on a level, in which he slept till daylight, and then renewed his route. Another night found him in the same predicament- — and yet another ; and it was not till the sixth day, that he reached his place of desti- nation ; almost starvedj his limbs frozen, and scarce the breath of life remaining. For the last three days he had subsisted on birch bark, and a couple of sqir- rels which he had killed with a club and eaten raw ! It was some weeks before he recovered sufficiently to transact business, but in the interim he had ascer- tained that there was no firm there that answered to the name of liis draft ; that Thayer had practiced a gross fraud upon him, and had sent him through the woods, knowing the distance, in the firm belief, JOSHUA SLOCUM. 105 as he afterwards acknowledged, that he would perish from cold and hunger before reaching his destination. Sufficiently recovered to travel, he retraced his steps, in the hope of regaining his property ; but Thayer in the nnean time had failed, and not a ves- tige of the goods he had defrauded him of could be found. Thus stripped of every thing, he took pas- sage for Boston, where he arrived safe, after an ab- sense from home of near six months. Here new trouble awaited him. His long absence, had alarm- ed his creditors ; his remaining property had been seized and sold under the hammer, and he was com- pelled to commence the world de novo^ with not a penny in his pockets ! His was truly an eventful life — checkered and marked by vicissitude and dan- ger that few have to encounter. His after life was spent in agricultural pursuits in the town of Sutton, at which place he died in the sixtieth year of his age. His widow subsequently re- moved to Hartford, where she died in May 1842, aged 76. She received a pension up to the time of her death. THE END. »r XI 2 ^1 v.^" ^^. °.mW^ ^5^^,^'^ OO .-^^ -A V^' ^^^ ^^. ^^. ''^^> ,#■ .3^ % '0 ^"1. 00^ ^>^ *- ^-^ W' ^iS' «^ ,0o V"t>^ t- \o^". r. >. v^^ % 00 A^*- :>^^^^' aV '/>. <^^ -T--, ,/ CU ^ ^t^t^" • ^< o 1'^ ^^ ^'P. k '. A^^''^/., n^, %?^5ii^.- .>j>' ^^ n , „ %^— y-.,,..<-^^ ^x. ,x-^^\..,^, V ^'i \' ^^ ^ ..^ '/, C' '^'^^ ■<^" '%^ : ^\^' ^ / % '^\'. './^' - >■ y^^::^:K'-y,'-'< 0^ ,'■ ■:^^ -c^ A^^' '^J-- \.o^^ '->.. v*^*"/>f^<-