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Un dea aymboiaa suivanta apparaftra sur la darnlAre image de cheque microfiche, selon le cas: le aymbole — »* signifie "A SUIVRE", le symbole V signifie "FIN". lire Mapa, plataa, charta, etc., may be filmed at different reduction ratios. Those too large to be entirely included in one expoaure are filmed beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to right end top to bottom, aa many framea aa required. The following diagrams illustrate the method: Lea cartes, planches, tableaux, etc.. peuvent Atre filmAs A des taux de rAduction diff Arents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour Atre reproduit en un aaui clichA, il est filmA A partir de Tangle aupAriaur gauche, de gauche A droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant ie nombre d'imagea nAcessaira. Las diagrammes suivanta illuatrent la mAthode. by errata led to »nt ine pelure, apon A t 2 3 32X 1 2 3 4 5 6 fiECOMMENDATIONSw Thi0 eenifles that (or several years the undersigned have been hitf- mately acquainted with the Rev. William B. Lighion, and have al- ways Totlnd him to be a man of integrity, in whose word we could rely with implicit confldence. For a number of years he has been depressed by misfortune-, having lost the greater part of his property by the absconding of his debtor; yet, his integrity has ever re- mained inviolate. In pursuing a course of industry, veracity, and humih*ty he lias endeared himself to a large circle of christian brethren and the public generally. We, do therefore, cheerfully recommend him ;n an enlightened community. Having perused the interesting Narrative of his life and suffer- ings, and being fully satisfied with the wortc, and believing it will be both interesting and useful, we can confidently recommend it to the reading public, particularly the youth of our country, as a work of useful entertainment. It contains an account of many extraordinary events, both of trials and sufferings, and is interspersed with many mora] and useful reflections, which renders it worthy of a prominent place in everjr family library. JOSEPH JACKMAN, } Selectmen JOHN CHANDLER, S of JOHN POOR, ) Landqf, Rev. OZIAS SAVAGE, Elder OEOROE W. COGSWELL, JONATHAN BROWNSON, Esn. JACOB NO YES, Esq. Col. MOSES WEBSTER. ^ v July,— IBM. Dbar Sir— I have received a line from Elder James M'Kenzie of Boston, Pastor of the Freewill B: WHO WAS A SOLDIER, BOUND FOR LIFE IN THE BRITISH ARMY AND IN WHICH IS CONTAINED AN ACCOUNT OF ITS CHARACTER, AND THE BARBAROUS METHOD PRACTISED IN PUNISHIVO THEIR SOLDIERS; WITH AN INTERESTING ACCOUNT OF HIS ESCAPE FROM HIS REOIMENI', HIS CAPTURE, IMPRISONMENT, TRIAL, AND CONDEMNATION TO DEATH; HIS SUBSEQUENT SUFFERINGS, AND FINAL ESCAPE FROM CAPTIVITY, AND FROM THE BRITISH DOMINIONS. -J ■m IVRITTBN BY HIMSEliF. •* Ouis talla fando temperet a lacrytnas ? '>^— Virgil — «, e. •* Who can refrain from tears at the relation of snch things?" ** Is it nothing to ynu, all ye that pasa by ? Behold and see, if tkere be any sorrow like unto my sorrow, which is done unto in«.* Jeremiah. KBVIIBO KDITIOir — EMBKLLISHeo WITH ENGBATinaS. i PUBUStlED BY THE AUTUOft. 183^. '5 1 y Entered according to act of CongreM, in the year 1836, By William B. Liobtok, In tlie Clerk *» Office of tlie District Court of New-Hainpvliir*. fTSRKOTVPEU BY ALLISOA* AXD FO.STEU. I S ! \ W PREFACE. Many of the virtuoug and the good whose lives have been distinguished for usefulness^ have contributed to the literature of the world by publishing their biographies ; thereby pro- moting the cause of truth, morality, and reli- gion, and perpetuating their memories among the living. Though the writer may shine with far inferior lustre in the scale of intellectual and moral greatness to many who have written ; yet, he would meekly present to the Public a narrative of his young and eventful career ; a career^ which has been marked with some of the most remarkable occurrences, and which are not less interesting from having been suf- fered at so early an age. To the merits of these assertions the impartial reader is lefl to judge* llie writer trusts that he possesses nothing of assumptive arrogance, nor the work any thing of fictitious novelty. It is a plain unvarnished statement of real facts, as they have occurred, and of sufferings as they have been endured. The reader then must pardon its errors ; and rather then pierce it with a dagger of criticism, he will drop his mace, and cover all its faults with a maiUle of mercy. '■'^'^- - > The object of writing it will be obtained if it shall exhibit the goodness of God — correct the evil passions of the heart — enforce paren- l* ( . r. J'r i ! >i PRKFACE. tal obedience — promote generous gontiinents — elevate the standard of morality, and purify the the taste of the youth, to whom it is most sin- cerely dedicated. It wos not originally the design oi the author to publish his narrative at so early a period of his life ; but to have withheld it from the world until (if he lived) he was further advanced in years, or have left it in manuscript to bo pub- lished af\er his decease. But the ardent solic- itude felt by his bereaved and afflicted Parents, who has for a number of years suffered severe mental anxiety and grief, from the authors sud- den separation from them in the bud of early youth, and his being conveyed away to a for- eign land,ignorant of the dangers aud sufferijigs to which he was exposed, probably never to meet them again on the shores of time ; and the earnest importunate desire expressed in their letters to have it immediately put to the press, when they learned its general events by a correspondence ; is a request too powerful in its claims not to be acceded too with senti- ments of childlike affection and gratitude. Added to this is the conviction that the events embodied in the work, are of sufficient interest to justify its publication. The author feels that all his sufferings have arisen from disobedience to his Parents, and a reckless spirit of adventure : — he would there- fore write this as a warning to the rising gen- eration, hoping it may prove a check to the viru- lent passions of the young and thoughtles and, ^ PREFACE. do good ; and that it may on thcso accounts be ■anctionod by every christian and philan- thropist. This being tho motive by which the follow- ing pages have been comniled, ho would pro- sent them to the candid Public, in unison with the sentiments and wishes of friends, and kin- derd, who are far separated from him by the mighty deep, with a desire that it may be ren- dered a blessing, both to them, and to every American youth. That the blessing of God may rest upon the work, is the sincere prayer of THE AUTHOR. ' ••' \.. '.' ilT CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. Containing an account of his nativity, parentage, early life, and trials, to the 16th year of his age, when he enlisted as a sol- dier in his Majest-'s service. CHAPTER II. \i ii! From the time he enlisted, to his bning embodied with his regi- ment in Montreal, Lower Canada. CHAPTER III. An account of his trials and siiflferings, from the time he joined his regiment to his reprieve from death; containing some af- fecting occurrences. CHAPTER IV. iFvom the time he was reprieved, to his final escape from im- prisonment—in which is manifest the orovidence and grace of God. CHAPTER V. An account of hn life and trials, from his escape from imprison* ment to his arrival in the United States. CHAPTER Vi. As account of the succee^ling years of his life, — the dispensations of Providence and grace, — continued down to the present time. LIFE OF WILLIAM B. LIGHTON. CHAPTER I. Containing an account of his nativity, parantage, early life, and trials, to the 15lh year of his age;, when he enlisted as a soldier in His Majesty's service. I was born at Framptoii) near Boston, in the County of Lincolnshire, England, on the sev- enth day of September, 1805. My father pos- sessed a small, but fertile farm, from whence by honest industry, he obtained a comfortable sup- port for himself and family, consisting of a wife and five children, three sons and two daugh- ters. He possessed a sound judgment, a pen- etrating genius and an active vigorous mind, with a character of untarnished worth. His dealings were always marked with the strictest principles of justice, which rendered him belov- ed and a useful member of society. Thus was my dear father respected, and through Provi- dence, blest with a cheerful competence that re- moved him and his family from the dangerous extremes of poverty and wealth, either of which is oflen productive of much painful anxiety. My dear mother died while I was ,^ite ■■% t.i- >^V' ':*■- z LIFE or W. B. LIGIITON. ■J ;; young; of course I can say but little about her character. However, the spark of recollection I imbibed is still bright and vivid, her affections were strongly combined with a sense of mater- nal duty, which rendered her one of the best of mothers. As a christian she was worthy of imitation. Towards the close of a long and painful affliction, which she bore with christian fortitude, she took an affectionate farewell of her husband and children, and afler committing them all into the hands of a merciful God, she died in peace and in full hope of a glorious immortality. *' Thither may we repair. That glui'ioiis bliss to share.'* A few days subsequent to my mother's demise, two of my sisters (twins about four years of age) followed her to the realms of peace. This sud- den stroke of Providence made a deep wound in the bosom of my afflicted father, and the mourn- ful aspect of these sorrowful scenes tended to depress his soul with grief and trouble the most keen and trying, though like Job he could sub- missively say " the Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the name of the Lord." There is something melancholly in the family of the widower, and, notwithstanhed church. For the truths n m •"i V » ■'' '" 10 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. i! I >N 1 1 I mi of the bible they possessed a deep reverence and sincere regard, and they strove to impress those truths upon the minds of their offspring at the earliest periods of intellectual exfoliation. The effect of this pious instruction produced in my mind a deep veneration for the character of Uod, and fear of oiffending him by a breach of his holy law. The following anecdote, though simple, may serve to show what moral impression was made upon my mind. It is a matter of most implicit faith among the juvenile class, in some parts of England, that the robin red-breast, from some undefined reason or other, is the peculiar favorite of Dei- ty, that its red-breast is the trait by which it is known as such, and that to destroy it inevita- bly produces the displeasure of Jehovah. Un- fortunately I destroyed a brood of these chirp- ing innocents, which I had no sooner done, than I became the subject of a train of reflec- tion the most painful and disagreeable. Con- viction rolled upon my mind, I felt guilty, un- happy, and was full of fear for the deed I had done ; in vain did I try to forget the act ; I could not ; my burden grew heavier, it became insupportable, I wept aloud and cried to Qad for mercy and pardon, promising if he would forgive me, I never would be guilty of the like offence. The effect of my importunate cry to God gave me the most sensible relief that I ev- er experienced in my life. My guilt was rolled off my shoulders and my wonted peace return- ed to my bosom, insomuch that I resumed my LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON. 11 innocent amusements with all the transports of youthful delight. Would to God that my mor- al sensitiveness had always remained equally sharp ! In order that I might be more efficiently in- structed in those scriptures whi^h make ^' wise unto salvation/' I was, at an early age, sent to a Sabbath School, conducted by ladies and gentlemen, whose souls, filled with a Saviour's love, yearned with compassion for the youth of the village,and from whose philanthropic labors, I imbibed a respect for the name and charac- ter of the Supreme being, which, in after life^ served to restrain me from the depths of vice. O, the blessed and happy effects of Sabbath Schools ! Surely they are seats of mercy. Would to God they were more perseveringly attended too. Ye Christians, awake to this important duty, and labor steadily with all your moral powers at this mighty engine of piety and reformation ! And may the Omnipotent Jeho- vah bless you and the institution with success ! My father, being a man of information, and aware of the value of education, placed me un- der the tuition of Mr. Joshua Dent,a gentleman fitted both by learning, and judgment to super- intend the instruction of youth. From this in- divicPual I received that assistance which ena- bled me to acquire a knowledge of the common branches of learning, and had it not been for the indolence to which I was subject, I should have been instructed in the higher branches of literature ; but, to my subsequent sorrows I 2 '"^:& 12 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. I I . Hi ! I li u < I! 1 ill I i thwarted the design of my parents, and master, by my indolence and love of amusement. This last mentioned evil continually involved me in trouble and perplexity, wasted my precious time, and in some cases, rendered me amenable to the laws of the land, as also it made me the subject of my father's displeasure. The amuse- ments to which I allude were the robbing of gardens, and orchards,trapping game, and hunt- ing bird's nests, &c. To the latter of which I became so grosely addicted that I have fre- quently exposed myself to the most emminent danger o£ brealdng my limbs and losing my life. Such was the effect of my climbing into thorn-hedges in pursuit of my object, that I have suffered severely from the lacerating thorn, both upon my flesh and clothes,the latter of which would sometimes be tattered in rags, which sight provoked my parents to anger, es- pecially my mother, as it kept her generally busy with the needle and thread, in mending for me. These propensities I indulged, as of* ten, and as far as circumstances would permit, in defiance of the strictest injunctions to the contrary. I mention these things to show the young reader what I consider to be the first causes of. my numerous sufferings in afler life, viz: diso- bedience to my parents. Had I obeyed them and refrained from my sinful persuits, I should have escaped that censure and severe punish- ment, I oflen received as the consequence of my offences. I shall accordingly introduce the LIFE OF W U. L[C;iITON. 1^ rags, reader to one or two circumstances, which may serve to illustrate this remark. My father was an experienced horticulturist, and possessed a peculiar taste which led him to cultivate his garden almost to paradisical per- fection ; from which circumstances he forbad his children entering it on pain of his displeas- ure; a prohibitation so reasonable,ought certain- ly to have been obeyed. I did however, pay frequent visits to this delightful spot, and regale myself with the rich and luxuriant fruit it con- tained. On one occasion having entered this forbidden ground in company with my oldest brother, after we had eaten our fill, and had commenced lading ourselves with spoil, unsus- picious of danger, we were alarmed by the sound of approaching footsteps. Our feelings were greatly excited at the idea of discoverey, laden as we were with forbidden fruit. Accor- dingly we paused to ascertain who the intruders might be, when we heard a voice too well known to admit of doubt concerning our unwelcome visitors. It was my mother and grandmother who having b€en informed of our proceedings by a neighboring family, were come to drive us plunderers away. We had but a moment for consultation,and as the only alternative was to bury our fruit in the ground, and hide ourselves in the bushes, we did so, thus hoping to escape detection. Scarcely were we secreted, when they ap- proached, and with a voice that filled us with alarm, my mother exclaimed, " then yo^ are « t tli •Il » I 14 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. W I 111 II fill 1^ i < ' i i I- ;l I III rN here, you villains, are you ? Come out immedi- ately." We however remained,perfectly silent, when they commenced a regular search, and soon dislodged us from our retreat, and drove us from the garden. My father too, detected me in obtaining game by unlawful means, since by the laws of Eng- land, it is a crime to kill any kind of game what- ever, unless duly qualified according to law, which qualification supposes a large share of property, and the payment of certain dues ; and should any whom Providence has placed in a lower sphere of life, dare to lay their unhalloW' ed hands upon any of those proscribed creatures, even though he should be urged to do it by the imperious demands of a starving family, the strong arm of an impious law would drag him from the bosom of a dependent wife and children, and consign him to a transportation for several years. These are laws which in my humble opinion ought to be repealed, as they savor too much of despotism and tyrany. Against these laws, I frequently rebelled, and carried on my schemes with impunity, without regard to law or its consequences. My father being a strict observer of these laws, did all that lay in his power to prevent his children infringing them. He would keep no dog, gun, or instrument upon his premises that would in any way afford the means of poaching, and strictly forbid any such course on pain of his displeasure, with severe puQ« ishment. ■ *-.-L>.-|*"» la MFE OF \V. B. MGIITON. 15 As my father deacovered my propensity to evil, he adopted a course of discipline so strict that my life actually became a burthen ; home became unpleasent to me, and I ardently sighed for an escape from such severe discipline, as it had a very sad effect upon my mind. The pos- itive, and oft repeated prohibitions only serv- ed to increase and inflame my desires, and to create feelings which moderate gratification would have smothered in the birth. And I firmly believe had my dear parents pursued a milder and more lenient course of government towards me, my prominent defects of charac- ter might have been subdued, and I saved from those subsequent evils which befel me in after life. Hence it appears, that punishments too severe, and restrictions too minute only defeat their own ends. We are naturally prone to de- sire most, that which is most strictly forbidden, and the prohibition sometimes serves to enkindle desires which other wise never would have existed. Not that we suppose the law to create ihe principle which thus leads -to dis- obedience, no ; that principle has its birth co- eval with the existence of the man, and is elic- ited by the enforcement of the command. This we believe is what the Apostle meant when he said, "for without the law sin was dead," and the Heathen where he says : *• Vice is provoked by every strong restraint ; Sick men love most to drink, who know they niay*nt. ** Were a proper line of conduct pursued in the government and education of children, how 2* ! . !l' ill ^ f ■! I I It ! h •f !j I ' il ill 16 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. few profligate sons and daughterSj and how few broken tiearted parents, should we find ! The injudicious management of many parents with their children, the neglect of early religious education, connected with a wholesome and of" fectionate restraint, is the ruin of millions. Many parents are too authoritative and austere in their mode of government which renders obedience irksome and slavish. Others again, ffo into as great an extreme on the other hand, for they exercise but very little or no govern- ment at all. Their children some of them be- fore they are of age would seem to usurp the reins of government into their own hands, and they heed as much the wind that blows as they do the counsel and admonition of their parents. And why is this ? It is because their pa- rents are not in the exercise of a judicious and proper discipline, — and for fear of doing hurt to their children, or injuring their own feelings, they let them run headlong in their own way. No wonder then if they have profligate chil- dren ! — ^And indeed it will be a wonder, if their children do not sink to hell through their neglect ! '^ It is not parental fondness, nor parental authority, taken separately, that can produce this beneficial effect. A father may be as fond of his offspring as he possibly can be, and his children be disobedient and rebellious : he may be as authoritative as the grand Turk, and his children despise and plot rebellion against him. But let parental authority be tempered LIFE OP W. B. LIGIITON. 17 with fatherly affection ; and let the reins of dis- cipline be steadily held by this powerful but affectionate hand ; and there shall the pleasure ■'■ of God prosper ; there will he give his blessing, even life for evermore. Many fine families have been spoiled^ and many ruined, by the separate exercise of those two principles. I Parental affedioUy when alone, infallibly de- generates into foolish fondness ; and parental authority frequently degenerates into hmtal tyranny, when standing by itself. The first sort of parents will be loved, without being res- ~. pected ; the second sort will be dreaded, with- out either respect or esteem. In the first case i obedience is net ^xacted^ and is therefore left to be unnecessary, as offences of great magni- tude pass without punishment or reprehension : in the second case, rigid exaction renders obe- dience almost impossible ; and the smallest de- linquency is often punished with the extreme of torture ; which, hardening the mind, renders '.. i 24 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. i. i I The period which succeeds between early youth and manhood, on various accounts, is one of the most dangerous in human life. It is then that the passions are most virulent and ungovernable, and that they struggle most furi- ously for pre-eminence. It is then that the voice of pleasure, with its charming note, is most likely to captivate and lure the youthful mind. And it is then that the future character of the man is most generally formed, and his future usefulness in life determined. Here let me pause, and speak a little to the young read- er. Let me advise you to be cautious how you proceed, with regard to your life and conduct^ while you are in the dangerous path of youth. Be careful that thou follow not the propensities of thy own heart, that thou mayest never be the dupe of vain and unmanly passions.. Take that necessary and worthy piece of advice, which Solomon, the wise man gives us, viz. " Keep thy heart tvith all dilligence ;" fbr the important reason assigned is, " for out of it are the issues of life. ^^ Prov. 4, 23. Whatever you neglect, or overlook, be sure to keep your heart. For it is the great seat of principles^ and if once bad ones become established, it ia like " cutting off a right hand" and " plucking out the right eye," to root them out. There- fore, be watchful. Narrowly observe all its in- clinations and aversions — all its motions and affections, together with the several objects and occasions which excite them. For remember, as our heart is, so will the tenor of our life and ; ■«?. i ii LIFE OF AV. B. LIGHTON. 25 conduct be. As is the fountain, so are the streams ; as is the root, so is the fruit. May God help the precious reader to be wise ! My parents feeling deeply solicitious for my welfare, and perceiving it would be impossible to effect my reformation by keeping me at home with them, resolved to put me out to some place that I might gain some instruction from the hand of experience. Accordingly a suitable place was procured for me at a respectable far- mer's about twelve miles distant. I staid there but a short time, for the reason my master was not in need of me as a servant, and no agree- ment existing between my master and father, I left, and returned home to the parental roof. My parents not knowing the cause of my leav- ing,and unwilling to credit my report, were very much displeased at my return, insomuch, my life became a burden and home disgusting. In the spring of 1819, I was again put out to service at some distance from honve. The fam- ily were remarkably strict in their attention to the externals of religion, but like the Pharisees, they were strangers to its vital power and op- erations upon the heart. Among other things, they insisted upon a punctual attendance at the house of God on the part of their depen- dents, a request I willingly complied with. Al- though thus careful to appear pious, they were the victims of passion . Hence, my master up- on the slightest offence would be extremely angry and censure with unsparing violence ; in consequence of which, I became discontea* f-i" t i\ 26 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. i ! i' ilii' I h' '; ted and dissatisfied, and yet, I durst not 'Com plain. My complaints were shut up within my own bosom. I became dejected and gloomy, forlorn and miserable. I thought of home, yet I knew if I returned thither, my case would not be improved. My parents, instead of sym- pathising with me, would be angry and treat me with coldness. How oflen did I sigh for a mother's tender and affectionate care, but alas ! my mother was in her grave ! As our acquain- tance increased, my master became more odi- ous to me, and his conduct more tyrannical. For the most insignificant trifles, he swore and threatened, as if an evil spirit possessed him, until the situation of a galley-slave appeared preferable to mine. For a while, I strove to be obedient to endure his insults, and remain until my term of service (one year) should ex- pire. But passion and discontent gained the ascendency, and I at length gave v/ay to^ care- less and neglectful manner in order to induce him to dismiss me. My measure had its desired effect. One morning as I went out to take care of his sheep, ( being shepherd boy, ) which was the first duty of the day, I purposely loi- tered by the way, so that I did not return so early as I should have done. On coming near the house, my master met me with his volley of abuse,and after exhausting his stock of oaths threatened to kick me over a ten feet wall, which I thought would be doing well, as it might serve as a preventative of future troub- les provided we both kept our respective sides. LIFE OP W. B. LIGIITON. 27 However, I made no reply until he ordered me to follow him to the house and he would dis- charge me immediately ; a command, which I informed him I would implicitely obey. Upon this he moderated his passion, and tried to persuade me to stay, promising to use me better in future ; I was, however, proof to all his entreaties, and utterly refused all, and every term of reconciliation, and having received about thirty shillings as the wjiges of my servi- tude ; left him, and pursued my way towards Boston, resolving to go any where, rather than to return home. My way led throuji^h a distant part of my father's parish, and unwilling to be detected, I took up my lodging some part of the day, in a dry ditch where I slept soundly, notwithstand- ing a heavy shower of rain which fell that afternoon. Towards night, 1 resumed my iourney, and meeting a shepherd boy, who was acquainted with my brothers, I sent word by him to my parents, that I had left the employ of Mr. H., and had gone to a dis- tance, to seek another situertion. Upon arri- ving at Boston, I sought the shelter of a tavern, but on entering it observed some of tny father's neighbors. Fearful of discovery, I left it in haste, and sought a place of greater security. Having passed the night very much dejected, I proceeded in the morning early, towards Spilsby, where I arrived in the evening. The next morning I left the place, in company with a drover, who persuaded me to accompany him o ■ M I l! i |. r II - !' t 28 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. ! r lii \v 1^ Ml, '1 to a cattle fair, to which I consented. From this place, he hired me to go with him to Horn- castle, a place at some distance, to assist him to drive a drove of cattle. Stopping at a tav- ern for refreshment, on the way, I engaged with the landlord to become his groom, ailer my return from Horncastle. After a day's hard travel, the evening beheld me, drover and cattle, safely lodged at the before named place. The drover here seemed to forget the services I had rendered him, and treated me as a per- fect stranger, and the only return I received was a piece of dry bread. Feeling myself abused, and having no disposition to letaliate, I retired to bed, where, after musing on the ingratitude of man, and other subjects, suited to my temper of mind, I fell asleep, and for a while, forgot my sorrows and perplexities. Early in the morning I took leave of Horn- castle, and proceeded to my new employment, gathering, as I went along, the fruits kind heaven has bestowed on man, and this consti- tuted my chief support through the day. Upon arriving at my new master's, he made me ac- quainted with the duties devolving upon me, requiring a strict attention to, and a serious care of all committed to my keeping. These injunctions I strove to obey in the strictest manner, sparing neither time nor pains to put them into effect. But I soon discovered that fault-finding, was with him a distemper, which probably, had been incorporated with his na- ture, and wlach had made it impossible for do- I LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 29 mestics to remain long in his employ. The ne- cessity of my case induced me to bear ! tyr- anny as patiently as possible until he became so disgustingly harsh and morose that I deter- mined to seek employment at some other place. My state, indeed, was but very little better than that of a slave ; my life being one contin- ual scene of toil and labor, \ ithout cessation. Even the holy Sabbath brought me no relief, as on that day, I had to take a horse to a cler- gyman, four miles distant, and return on foot, before breakfast ; and in the evening to go on foot to bring it back again. Added to this, I was not supplied with wholesome food, my diet consisting of a little meat, half boiled, and bread made of the coarsest materials, scarcely baked, and so full of coals that I thought they made it up with a paddle-stick, and threw it on the ash-heap to receive a moderate scorching. This, together with the cruel abuse I suflered continually from my master, made my situation almost intolerable. One morning, my master having abused me most unmercifully, I went to a neighboring clergyman, who was a magis- trate, in order to obtain redress. Unfortunate- ly, he was from home or, (as I was afterwards informed,) he would have assisted me in pro- curing it, as he had long been acquainted with the brutal manner he had treated his depen- dents. I applied to the next justice, a gentle- man of high rank, who, instead of assisting me, indignantly expressed his surprise, that a boy of my age, shpuld havelhe presumption to .i ■" ,i ;] .t' J'' 90 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 'M;li .ill \i prosecute a man, whose superior influence, he said, would crush mc in dciiance of all that I could say or do. He said he ^' suspected that I was as deep in the mud as my mas- ter was in the mire," and that I ** had better go home and tell my master to get a stick and give me a good flogging /" As might be expected, I was no more pleased with the justice's mode of law dealing, than with his insulting expres- sions ; and amused myself, as I returi-^ed back to my place, with the consideration, thai had I the means, I would get a warrant for both, and crush them instead of their crushing me. I should have left this tyrant of an innkeep- er immediately, had it not been for an existing obligation, by which it was agreed that a month's notice should be given by either party, previous to separation. However, I gave him immediate notice I should leave his service in one month, according to agreement. During this last month of my service I was discovered in the following providential manner. One day, being employed as usual, a boy came and questioned me about my home and parents, in such a manner as showed him to be acquainted with my circumstances. From him I learnt, that it was intended, by a gentleman in the neighborhood, to write to my father concerning my situation, and that I might expect my father after me. To avoid this, I promised to write myself, which I accordingly did, giving a true and circumstantial account of my proceedings, promising to returm home, as soon as my time I of hir did, n becau my ft readei menti< With remen boy, t( consid ed it, filled father lived, about suppos this, \^ som CI recrea my ini about to hui than t calls o offeree Sleep came, of hor ed wit made cess, I happe from t LIFE OF W. B. LlGlITij .1 I 1 of hire should be expired. This however, 1 did, not because I meant to return home, but because I could not bear the idea of having my father come to carry me thither. The reader is perhaps wondering how the boy just mentioned, became aware of my condition. With his patience,! will show him. It will be remembered that I sent word bv a shepherd boy, to my parents, at the time I absconded, a considerable period elapsed before they receiv- ed it, which they no sooner did, than they were filled with anxiety and consternation. My father visited the gentleman with whom I had lived, who informed him I had left his service about two months since, with a design, as he supposed, of returning home. Upon hearing this, what were the agonies of his parental bo- som can only be conceived by those who have recreant sons. When he thought of my youth, my inexperience, and my danger, wandering about the country, exposed, for ought he knew, to hunger, storm and nakedness, and more than this, to the wiles of sharpers, and the calls of vice. He trembled for my safety, and ofTered many a prayer for my preservation. Sleep was banished from his pillow, or if it came, it was only to perplex him with dreams of horror and visions of his lost son, surround- ed with danger, or engulphed in misery. He made every possible inquiry, but without suc- cess, until at a party, in his neighborhood, he happened to mention the subject ; a gentleman from the place where I was livinar, who was oa '■M I ( i I 32 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. a visit to his friends, was one of the party, oh- served that a boy answering the description given, was living at a Mr. It's, as a groom : upon which he was requested to make inquiry, and forward what information he could, as speedily as convenient. The result of this re- quest, the reader has seen in the preceding page. After my father had heard from me, he sent twice by two ditferent gentlemen, to ascertain my circumstances, relieve my wants, and im- portune me to return home. But though I was needy, I was nevertheless, proof to all their kindnesses and my parents love. Young reader, may God grant, you may never be guilty of a breach of parental obedience ! My time at length expired, and I left Mr. H., but dreading to meet my father's frown, I did not return home, notwithstanding my promises, but went to work as a day laborer, in the out- skirts of the town. In this despicable situation 1 remained for some time, but wages being low, and labor scarce, it was with difficulty I pro- cured a scanty subsistance, which induced me to leave the place for the purpose of offering myself as a soldier. Before I take leave of this town, (the name of which I have forgotten) I cannot forbear re- lating one anecdote. While acting as groom, I was sent one morning to the lodge of a neigh- boring gentleman, when I obtained permission to visit his hunting establishment. It contain- ed a pack of hounds, (fifty-two is called a MFE OF W. n. LIGIITON. 33 fmck,) which were all nccommodated with odgin^, in a spacious and well arranged build- ing called a Dog-kennel ; in which was a cook house, and servants to keep every thine in order in relation to these animals ; so much so, that thousands of poor men in the kingdom would think themselves happy with a far less share of provision and comfort. Upon enter- ing, I found abundance of oatmeal-puddtngy prepared for their entertainment, and a largo stock of the raw material, awaiting their con- sumption. Being remarkably fond of oatmeal, and hungry withal, I commenced eating the raw material, and filling my mouth and hands with it, was about to leave the establishment, when the cook removed the cover from a huge boiler, filled with horse flesh, the effluvia of which, so aflccted my olfactory nerves as to empty my month, stomach and hands of their plenteous store of oatmeal, with which they had been so liberally filled. Since that time, oatmeal has been my abhorrence. I now left for Horncastle, as I have stated, to seek a place in my country's service, think- ing there to find support and comfort. I soon found the recruiting party belonging to the second regiment of life guards, and ofi^ered myself to them, but was rejected as being too short. Determined not to be disappointed, I set out for Lincoln. The weather being severe and stormy, as a heavy an.d deep snow had fal- len, followed by rain, I found it very difficult travelling. In consequence of the inclemency ,1:, -'^'- .<;). 34 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. ii ' of the season, the road I travelled was almost lined, in some places, with game ; such as partridges, pheasants, &c.; which were so tame, a man might easily have caught them, without much trouble, but for that unrighteous and tyrannical law which forbad him^ on pain of the severest penalties. Arriving at Lincoln, I offered myself a sec- ond time to a recruiting party, of the 33d Reg. of Infantry, but was rejected on the same prin- ciple as before mentioned. These repeated disappointments robbed me of my spirits, and made me the victim of despondency ; hope for- sook my bosom ; prosperity was hidden from my view ; poverty, with a ghastly look , stared me in the face ; home, with all its pleasures, flitted across my memory, and in the language of the prodigal, I said, ** I will arise and go to my father." The next Sabbath, in the afternoon, I arrived at my father's house. My parents re- ceived me with joy and kindness, and by their affectionate manner beguiled me into a relation of my troubles and wanderings, at the same time, giving me such advice as parental love deemed necessary for my safety. Would that I had obeyed it; then should I have escaped much of my subsequent sufferings ! A few of the next months of my life were spent at home, peacefully and pleasantly. The following sum- mer, a gentleman in an adjoining town applied for my services. I accordingly entered his employ, hoping to experience better treatment than heretofore. But here my hard fortune ii;. IIPE OF W. B- LIGHTON. 35 R)llowed me. My master, though a professed Christian, was passionate and cruel. Twice during my^ stay, he wnipped me, and that too most unjustly. In the month of September, he was visited with affliction, and during its contin- uance, I resolved to leave him the first oppor- tunity, notwithstanding my former painful expe- rience in running away. One day meeting with an old acquaintance, I told him the story of my woes. He persuaded me to go with him to Stamford, to join a militia corps, which was to assemble in a few days for a month's duty. I consented, and immediately returned to my master's for a few articles of clothing, where I found my brother Thomas, who had come to pay me a visit. But framing a hasty excuse, I contrived to persuade him to visit me at some other opportunity, and rejoic- ing in my iniquity, I soon joined my companion, and we set out together for the aforementioned place. Thus a second time, I threw myself from the arms of friends, and voluntarily exposed myself to the worst of evils. How thoughtless, how foolish, and how impatient are young people ! And how good has God been to me, in causing me to escape the " wiles of the devil," and teaching me the way to repose on the bosom of Jesus Christ. After a hard day's travel', we stopped at a tavern , when, to my surprise, I learnt that my companion was destitute of money, and depen- ded upon me for support. To meet his require- ments^ I sold a watch, and before we arrived at 4 I • ! >\\ '.. n m ■'if !' I HI «{ :|| ; 1 ti I' If .'I ' ! I til V' n Si ;(■ ft li , a vV. 36 LIFE OF VV. B. LIGHTON. Stamford, my last shilling was changed to gratify his intemperance. Finding that his company would ultimately produce my ruin, I forsook him, and was leil alone, in the midst of a large population, whose hardened sympathies were not easily awakened by the language afdistress, or the tear of sorrow. I again had recourse to my old method, and offered myself to a regiment in the place, but with the same success as be- fore. Necessity, now induced me to sell every article of clothing which in decency could be dispensed with, and meeting with a youth in circumstances similar to my own, I left Stam- {■ ford in his company, to travel where fortune or Providence might direct. The trifling sums of money we possessed were soon exhausted, and our l^st farthing expended for provision, and be- ing unable to obtain employment, we had no other alternative but to throw ourselves on pub- lic charity for support. The idea that we were in the situation of common beggars, exposed to the anathemas of those to whom we might ap- ply for aid, was galling in the extreme, but the calls of hunger, becoming more loud and vocif- erous, we presented ourselves at the door of a wealthy farmer, and with a piteous tone, told our affecting tale, but his heart, rendered hard by familiarity with distress, refused to be mel- ted, and, with every indication of displeasure, he bid us go our way. Thus failed, in our first attempt, we proceeded on our journey, faint and weary ; and, in all probabiHty, might have sunk from exhaustion, had not my companion found ■« J LIFE CP W. B. LIGUTON. 37 a distant relation of his, in that part of the country through which we passed, from whom we obtained a morsel, the old woman (his rela- tive) being any thing but a cheerful givef . We arrived that night at Sleaford, a populous town, ornamented with elegant modern buildings, an- cient edificies, the remains of gothic splendors, and beautiful, in no small degree, with the most delightful of nature*s productions. But alas ! to me all was uninteresting and sad ; for out of the numerous habitations, not one afforded me shelter ; out of the prolific stores of food it contained, not one morsel offered itself to meet my pressing wants. I felt solitary, amid the hundreds who flocked along the busy streets. I sighed for my father's house. Afler some consultation, we agreed to seek a shelter under the roof of some friendly inn, though conscious that we had not wherewith to pay our bills, and unwilling to cheat to any amount, we retired to bed without any thing to eat for supper. But, so great was our fatigue, that we slept but little, and when the first beams of the morning shed their rays into our cham- ber, we rope,and with much trepidation, descen- ded the stairs, when, finding none but the do- mestics of the house stirring, we bade them prepare breakfast by the time of our return from a short walk ; but we took a road we nev- er retraced, and thus cheated them out of their due for our accommodation. Here again, my companion discovered an old acquaintancei from whom we obtained a hearty meal. ii -5: I I 38 LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON. j,f,( f ■; E !!: ii We now shaped our course to Lincoln, being obliged to beg our support on the way. We applied for relief at a rich gentleman's house, the lady of which, gave us such a supply of food, that it sustained us through the day. Late in the evening we entered the city, and adopted the same measure for a lodging, as before, but with less success. For on leaving the house in the morning, we were pursued by some of the family and overtaken, but after receiving a severe reprehension, were permitted to proceed. Lincoln, the capital of Lincolnshire, is one of the most noted cities in England, that indu- ces me to speak a little about it here,which may not be uninteresting to the reader. "It is seat- ed on the side of a steep hill on the Witham, which here divides into two streams. It had formerly, fifty churches, now reduced to thir- teen, besides the Cathedral. The Cathedral is admired for its interior architecture, which is the richest, and lightest Gothic style, and its great bell, called Tom, of Lincoln, requires twelve men to ring it." Leaving this place we were completely dis- couraged. Our hearts sunk within us. We talked about home, and its former comforts, un- til we were filled with grief, and mortified at our disappointments, and yet, seeing no way to piosper, we agreed to go back to our parents. With aching hearts and wearied limbs we com- menced our journey homewards, pursuing our way in gloomy silence, for our sorrows wer^ LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 39 as too big for utterance. On the way, I was for- tunate to hire out to a gentleman who also look pity on us and gave us something to €at. I agreed to return and fulfil my engagaements on Monday, the following week. He gave me a shilling, as earnest money ^ on which we subsist- ed the rest of the way home. Upon arriving near my father's, my companion left nw and I saw him no more Being left alone, I retired to n lonely spot, where, in happier days, I had indulged in many a flight of youthful fancy. But now, dejection ant upon my brow, and sorrow brooded around my beart. The solemn stillness cf nature ac- corded with my feelings, and seemed to sympa- tiiize in my distress. Here I stayed, absorbed in deep reflection, until the appearance of my brother Thomas, aroused me to a sense of my situation. His presence, for a while, soothed my feelings, until he informed me that my father was highly incensed against me for my rebel- lious conduct. Then my grief became insup- portable, and I scarcely dared make my ret-urn kno, 'u to the rest of the family. At length I ventured to appear before my offended father, who was so charged with grief and passion, that he treated me with the most distant cold- ness. He>talk«d to me seriously, as though he was ieing it for the last time ^ and gave me some very strict injunctions in regard to my fu- ture life and conduct, to which I promised im- plicit obedience. ^ * It heir i on the Sabbath day, when I arrived ^4* I (* i • 1 \ }•■■ i i' li >i; i I il; !' i j !' I' L' vm If. iii !ii i! t 40 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. at home, I was under the necessity of returning back to my place on the morrow, as it was the time I had agreed upon with the gentleman by whom I was hired. I accordingly informed my father of my engagement, and stated my wish was to fulfil my obligation, to which he answer- ed in an angry manner,'^/^a^/ might gOy and he wished I never would come back again, for he never wanted to see me more, and he cared not where I went, or what became of me /" This an- swer of my father, and the feelings he manifes- ted towards me, stung me to the very heart. Indeed it was like the shock of a thunderbolt. It rendered me powerless to say or do any thing that might atone for the grief I had occa- sioned him. I wished for the hour of separa- tion as one that was anxious to be delivered from a heavy doom. I thought too, as he pos- sessed such feelings towards me, I never could occasion him any more trouble by returning home, but would, (if I could not succeed in domestic service,) enter the service of my country, or go to some foreign part, rather than home. Early in the morning, I was visited by Mr. Ingram, a neighboring gentleman of advanced age, who reasoned with me, and counselled me as a tender father, telling me for my encour- agement, my father's design to settle me in bu- siness, as soon as my age and experience in the world would be commendable. After present- ing me with a small sum of money, he took his farewell of me and we parted. While I was LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON. 41 meditating on what he had said and done for me, I was met by my father, who I perceived still retained the same feelings towards me. He was about to attend some business from home, and was all prepared to proceed, when we met again for the last time^ and parted without say- ing a word. I gazed upon him as he receded from me in hopes he would return and give me one consolitory word, together with his farewell advice ; but he passed on and left me in cruel silence. Since which time I have never had the satisfaction to see him ! This, to me, was worse than death. To be treated with neglect by one who had always been one of the kindetst of fathers. My soul was p ined, though I could not but attribute i^ to my own folly, and misconduct , And now, dear young reader, permit me to give you a word of advice, and caution, on this important subject ; viz. obedience to parents. If you enjoy them, it is your duty to obey them. They are the authors of your being, and under 'God, have been the means of your preservation. They have afforded you all in their power, to make you respectable in life. Then love them for it. Remember there is a degree of afiec- tionate respect which is due to parents, that no person else can properly claim. For j\ consid- erable time, parents stand, as it were, in the place of God to their children ; and therefore, rebellion against their lawful commands, has been considered as rebellion against God. How then can you expect mercy from him, until you i ! 1 •i I i^ 'I ■ If - J' 1: '.I ' ;; r 'i ii < i 42 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. obey your parents ? Nay, you never will find mercy from him whose injunction is, "Children obey your parents in the Lord," until you are fully resolved to obey this important principle. See Col. iii. 20. Eph. vi. 1. Matt. xv. 4. Exod. XX. 12. The disregard of this requirement is the cause of a vast proportion of the individual wretchedness, sorrow, misery and death, found in the world. Most who come to an untimely end, are obliged to confess, that this, with the breach of the Sabbathy were the principal causes of their ruin. Reader ! art thou guilty .? Take timely warning, humble thyself, therefore, be- fore God, and repent, or thou wilt be damned for ever. From such a curse, may God save us all ! After breakfast my mother informed me of her intention to accompany me as far as Bos- ton. Accordingly w« prepared for our depart- ure, when I took an aftectionate farewell of the family, telling my brother Thomas in particular, I should not see them at least, for ten years. They joined in giving me expressions of regard, and I left the endearing circle. But O ! what were my feelings ? I cannot describe them. My heart sunk within me ; and I was led to give vent to my feelings in a flood of grief, as I looked back for the last time, to take a farewell view of the beloved home of my youth. As my mother and myself proceeded in company, she improved her time in giving the best advice of which she was capable. Upon arriving at i! ' , 7 ml m ii ^ ■ I TUE FARTISG SC£>£, LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 43 Boston^ she purchased for me a suit of clothes, and then accompanied me into the church-yard — there in solitude to take her last embrace of her wayward child. That sacred spot — that lonely grave-yard, is still impressed upon my memory. It was there, my mother pressed her last warm kiss of affection to my burning cheeks ; there I received her last embrace ; there I heard her last words. They still float upon my ears, even now do I seem to hear her last expression — "Farewell my son, be a good boy." A iroihers's love, how strong it binds f Like heavenly bliss, Ms sweet, and dear, *Ti8 there distress, a solace, finds, • Her love we trust without a fear. We parted on this delightful spot, that is yet dear to my memory. The solemnity of the place, together with the affecting scene of sep- arating, had such a lasting and powerful charm that it has rendered the grave-yard a desirable retreat for pious meditation. The last faltering accents which fell from her quivering lips will ever be remembered with strong sentiments of affectionate regard. O, there was a sacred sweetness which I felt in her voice, as she ut- tered her last words, that has such a charm upon my soul, that the ago of time will never erase ! And, could I reward her for the love and kindness she shewed me, in this my never forgotten trouble, I would, with the utmost pleasure and delight, seize the first moments If i; 1 1* i! I II 44 LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON. of such a desirable privilege, and tender my aervices at her feet ! 'And are the momenu past, The loved oiiei flown—- And muat we port at last To weep alone 1 Shall friendship's wreath untwinoy' Its roses fade— And all I once called mine In death be laid 1 Yet — time batli hurried by. We part in tears. The wreath is sore and dry. No more it cheers ; But memory o*er the urn Of past joys moves, And speaks in words that bum Of those she loves. And wo shall meet again. Thou wounded dove. For ever to remain In bowers above :— There heavenly anthems swell Like piping winds— And peace and uniou dwell Fii holy minds.* Being left alone, I pursued my way with dil- igence, though deeply affected with the thought that I should sec my home no more. The country I passed through was beautiful and sublime. It presented a rich and lovely scene- ry rarely equalled, that in some measure, had a tendency to remove that gloomy feeling of which I was the subject. Itrayel'led a number of miles along the banks of the beautiful Wi- tham, which afforded me much pleasure and delight. On my way, I employed myself in mg MFE OP W. n. MGIITON. 45 forming resolutions to behave myself for the future, in tlie most discreet nnd consistent manner, in whatever situation I might be pla- ced. Early in the evening I arrived at the place of my destination, where I was kindly and affectionately received by the gentleman who had employed me, anil was quickly enstalled in my new station. My master was single, res- pectable, and temperate. His family consist- ing only of himself and house-keoper, a most lovely woman, whom I soon loved and esteem- ed as a mother. I now thought that I should be happy and contented to spend many years in so comfortable a situation. But alas ! how de- lusive are all created things ! An unexpected and unlooked for occurrence took place which blasted my hopes, and dashed the cup of com- fort from my lips, and threw me once more, n wanderer, upon the wide world. It happened that the mother of this gentleman paid him a visit. She was a most unhappy woman, and a notorious scold. No sooner had she arrived, than she commenced her well-contracted meth- od of censuring, and scolding all that came in her way. Her hideous strain commenced in the morning, and ceased but with the day,whcn it devolved upon me to accompany her to her home, which was a short distance from my master's house. And such was the old lady's disposition, that during the few minutes it oc- cupied to conduct her home, slic would pf>ur on me a volley of abuse the most unmerci-'iil that 5 m I : ' i: 46 LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON. ever dropped from the lips of woman kind, es-' fecially from those possessing her rank in life, ndeed I was glad when I had brought the old lady to" her own door, and thus freed myself from the company of an abominable old scold. It was my comfort, on my way back to reflect that she had at least, partial reward in the mis- ery which is consequent upon the possession of so vile a disposition. "A man who has such a woman for his wife, is like a tenant who has got a cottage with a bad roof, through every part of which, the rain either drops or pours. He can neither sit, stand, toorh, eat, drink or sleep without being exposed to these droppings! Miserable is the man who is in such a case, with either house or wife /" The effect of this scolding was that the house-keeper left her situation ; and her place was supplied by one the very opposite of her- self, and the exact counterpart of our old scold. She from some cause or other, conceived a dis- like towards me, and consequently, poured volumes of complaints against me into the ears of my employer, who believed the whole, with no other evidence than her assertion. I was thus doomed to be deprived of my situation ; for one morning he called me, and presented me with the miserable sum of one shilling, (which was all I received for about six weeks work) and told me I might consider myself dis- missed from his service. With this small sum I left for Lincoln, where I spent the following night ; from thence, after I IV L^. LIFE OF W. B. IJGHTON. 47 disposing of such articles of clothing as I nould best spare to obtain means to travel with^ I went to Doncaster, and from thence to Leeds in Yorkshire. I found much here to afford amusement, and to divert my mind from my lonely situation, so long as my money lasted ; but when that was gone every hope fled with it. Hence the old proverb — "a man may as well be without his brains as without money in England." But before I take leave of this place 1 will just stop to mention the peculiar character of the market ; which will no doubt, be interesting to many of my young inquiring readers. Leeds has been a long time famous for the woollen manufacture, and is one of the largest and most flourishing towns in the coun- try. The market is perhaps one of the finest in the world. The mode of doing business is indeed peculiarly striking. "At 6 o'clock in the summer, and about 7 in the winter the market bell rings ; upon which, in a few min- utes, without hurry, noise, or the least disor- der, the whole market is filled, all the benches covered with cloth, as close to one another as the pieces can lie longways, each proprietor standing behind his own peace. As soon as the bell has ceased ringing the factors and buyers, of all sorts, enter the hall, and walk up and down between the rows, as their occasions direct. When they have pitched upon their cloth, they lean over to the clothier, and by a whisper, in the fewest words imaginable, the price is stated. One asks, the other bidsj and ) :t| i I U II 48 LIFE OF W. B. LICIHTON. « J ill ^! ii! 'J tbey agree or disagree in a moment. In a litd« more than an hour all the business is done, ten or twenty thousand pound's worth of clotli, and sometimes more, are bought and sold with a whisper only ; the laws of the market here be- ing more strictly observed than at any place in England." The rich and splendid gas works, by which the town is lighted up throughout at night, make no small addition to its beauty. During my stay here, I was indefatigable in my efforts to obtain employment, but all was in vain. I was sadly situated now, as winter was approaching, and to be friendless and money- less difiring the inclement season of the year, would be at once dangerous and painful. To avoid this, I visited VVakefield and Barnsley, two noted towns, but with no better success, ex-cept that I made out to obtain a few days work. Upon this, I returned to Leeds, as the fair was about to commence, hoping to gain some small employment during that season of noise and bustle. After having spent a few days in a fruitless search for work, during which time I subsisted on charity, and seeing how small a prospect existed of my escaping starva- tion, I determined once more to try my fortune at enlistment, as bemg compelled to it from a6- solute necessity * I accordingly made applica- *Nece8sity often compels us to do things that are repugnant to our feelings and iiit rest; and which we would not do, were we relieved from th(^ noccssityof doi'i^it, merely for thepreser* valion of life, and its cnji»ynKM)l.s. Thus it was, and probably ifl now the caBc vvith vast nunilcrs of the honest aud industrious .poor of fc-nglund, who, after they hufve been driven to deetUu- 11 1 i LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 49 a litd« ne, ten til, and with a ere be- ilace in works, hout at uty, ;able in [ was in ter was money- e year, ui. To irnsley, mccess, pw days as the to gain ason of t a few g which g how starva- fortune irom ab- applica- repugnant t do, were the preser- probably industrious to deBtUu- tion to the Sergeant of the 33d Regiment, who enlisted me for the 6th Regiment, which was then lying at Leeds. I was immediatly march- ed before the Colonel, and officers of the Regi- ment, and passed the standard, but on being more circumspectly examined, I was pronoun- ced unfit for service, being half an inch shorter than the height required by law for soldiers of that Regiment. The Colonel jocosely answer- ed, on my rejection, that if I wished to be a soIJier, I must " go home and grow a little more, after which, he should have no objection against taking me." Disappointed, I next went to York, a city noted for its splendid cathedral, which is reck- oned the most elegant and magnificent Gothic ->»*«icture in the kingdom — that in Lincoln > -; laps excepted. Passing from thence to Uie next town I found the people in a state of tumult and disorder, being engaged in burning an effigy of the reigning king, (George IV.) whose cruelty and baseness towards his wife, (Caroline) had drawn upon him the odium and contempt, not only of his own subjects, but of every feeling and enlightened man in the world, who had become fairly acquainted with the subject. Calling at a tavern, I was informed that a recruiting Sergeant was stationed there for the night; upon which, I decided to try once more to become a soldier, for I was now tion, through the scarcity of labor and the oppression of gov- ernment, enlist for soldiers as an usyUini to screen them u'oin their impending miseries. 5* m i mi 'i\ » I ,1 i|i \: '^''1 50 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. Hi! 'i* i in the most deplorable situation, being entirely destitute of money, or friends, I retired to ^ed faint and weary, not having had much to eat during the day, and no means of procuring a p'pper at night. When morning arrived, I pr ared a large quatttity of paper, and cutting it the shape and size of my feet, for I ioa$ {letermined not to be too short this timej drew on my stockings, pnd thus heightened y went again to undergo a dread ordeal. Placing myself beneath the standard, I seemed tall enough, and should have passed had it not been for the scrutiny of the sergeant : Said he, "are your stockings thick .?" I replied. No : Upon which he went to examining the bottoms of my feet, with as much care as if he had been afraid of taking the itch. My contrivance was of course discovered, and I was dismissed with a repri- mand so severe, that it taught me to be cautious how I used paper to add to my growth. Passing from thence, on my way to the next town, I entered a tavern, in hopes to obtain somf»thing from the hand of charity. I had not been there long before I was noticed by a gentleman, who perceiving my dejection, took pity on me, and in some measure relieved my wants. He said he was in want of a young man to enter for him as a substitute in the mili- tia, and would give four pounds bounty to any one who would engage. On enquiring if I was willing to engage for him, I told him I was, when an immediate agreement was entered in- to, and I returned home with the gentleman, I I W '■ an/ if I LIFE OP W. B. LIGIITON. 51 who hired my board until the day the staff offi- cers met for swearing in their subjects, which was about a week. The day arrived, when, after due inspection, I was sworn, and my name enrolled to serve five years, during the war, in the North York militia. After every thing had been completed as respected my en- listment, a very unexpected turn took place in the mind of my substitutor, who, after all I could say or do, would not pay me but two pounds — half the sum agreed upon, but said he would pay the other half when the regiment as- sembled for duty.* Dissatisfied and son ewhat A'exed withal, I promised within myself I would never meet to do duty for him, but would go into some other part of the kingdom. Accordingly the next morning I left the gen- tleman, militia and all behind, and mounted the stage, in order to go to London, in which I was scon carried to Stamford, and from thence I proceeded on foot to Huntingdon, where fall- ing in company with a young man, who had re- cently visited the great metropolis, he dissua- ded me from my design of going thither, on the ground of my inexperience, and the dan- ger to which I should consequently be exposed in that laboratory of vice and crime. * The method pur^sued in En;r{aiul,\vith the miUtia corps, is different from thut pursued in Aniurica. There they only di af*. so many out of each town, which is but few in number, and each Regiment aseeuiblcs one month eve.iy year to regular duty. During which term government provider them wiUi a suit of regimental uniform, i^un and cquipiiveiit?, and receivcg tiie same back at the end uf tliu tt'nu of tli.;ir &!i\ioc. ii ,»: fB :,i, f J 'Vl 52 LIFE OF W. «. UGHTOX. M I now turned my vacillating steps towards Coventry, when I again began to experience mucii evil in my circumstances and while in this situation, almost entirely destitute, far from frieuvis and in the niidst of a people who would take but little,if any pity at all upon me, I submitted myself to the most painful train of reflecti i. Despair was depicted in my feel- ings, wt e melancholy with her trai« of depres- sive gloom, became my abiding companion. As I was travelling in the dusk of one beautiful evening, 1 fell in company with a young man to whom I related my sufferings. He (the young man) perceiving my trouble, and dejec- tion of mind, spake comforting, and gave me good counsel that had some happy effect upon my feelingSjWhich will induce me to remember him, and the interview, with pleasure. Just afler we had parted, a post chaise passed me going in the direction of C, when without hesitation, I jumped on, unobserved by the coachman, and soon arrived at the place of my destination. The same evening I sought to obtain relief. but in vain, until 1 thought I must starve lo rii death, as I had not a penny to help myself with; and after forming a resolution to offer myself for the army, I made inquiries of a man if there was a recruiting party in the place,he informed me there was, and knowing he shou!d obtain a small sum from the sergeant, for his trouble in case I enlisted, went immediately with me to their rendeziums and introduced me to a ser- geant of the staff corps. LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. 53 jf. Afler some inquiry into my circumstances, the officer gave me a penny's worth of bread, with a little cheese and beer, which was prin- cipally all I had eaten that day, and travelled about thirty miles. In the morning the sergeant before he had enlisted me, took me to the stan- dard, but found I was half an inch too short for any regiment in the service, save one, which was the 60th Rifles. He said he would enlist me for thai regiment, as I should not be able to enter in any other. After many a flaming description of the pleasures of a soldier's life, and telling me withal, that the regiment waa then stationed in America, I eagerly seized the opportunity to enlist from the fond anticipation that I should see a country so famous, and to which my eager disposition craved to travel, as the reader has been already informed. Being pronounced fit for service, I was the next day taken before an oflicer for the purpose of taking oath, or what is generally termed swearing in. The gentleman asked me how long I would serve ; whether for a limited term, or for life ; to which I deliberately replied^/ would serve during life* The oath was then * This was one of the most iinpriident steps I could possibly have t^ken, to iiilist for life : as it iiivolvcil me into a perpe- tuity ot misery and suffering all my days. But the candid read- er, after considering well my case, will not remain long at a loss to answer every in(|uiry ho may make res|)ecting it. Tiie reason why I did so is too plain and ol)vious. I was in the first place an inexperienced boy, In the i^ecoud placel was courted by flatterers who mij'ht be said to sedure me by their bewitching uescriptions of a soldier's lift"; who after they had enlisted me 4for which they received a sm.ill boimty for every recruit) cared • I i 'I I ;■:( :f ■ A ! r!; 1' * '!:! i V i; ( :;. ii ; . >':\\ ill n fii 54 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. aealedj and I was delivered up to mliitary com- mand. Thus, at the age of fifleen, on the 6th of December, 1820, I became a soldier in His Britannic Majesty's 60th rifle corps. notliing more about me. In the tliird |)l;ice, und must impor- tant of all, I had occasioned great trouble to my parents, my father especinUy, Uirough my didubudience. Therefore, to have returned home would have incurreii a heavier censure; and made him more angvy, and my life more miserable. I had therefore resolved never more to return. Added to this ihe misei^ and entire destitution of my circumstances, and the deep trouble of mind of which I was then the{h the passion of youth and the treachery of flatterers may be led to a similar evil. May Grod grant iXvM. parents may never know the sorrows andtrouli- lea arising from diso'oedient children ! Hear this ye parents, train \xp your offspring in the fear of God. Begin with them from their cradle, and impress o&ecttenee at (4iiis early period of their existence. Distill the holy principles of the £t6/e, and of the glorious religion of heaven^ when the mind is young and tender; for it is then the most susceptible of receiving that knowledge and wisdom which will Oirm the future character of the man, and render him a blessing to society and the world. Let this important duty be persevei jingly attended to, and we shall soon see that wretchedness decreasing in the world of which the base and cruel neglect of this duty is its legitimate cause. But a word to the youth. Young reader, you see what evils follow close upon the heels of the disobedient. Arc you of that stamp 1 If you are, take timely warning from my example, or you will ruin both yoiu* soul and body forever. Do you cease to regard the counsel «f your parents 1 If you do, you cease to LIFE OF W. n. I.IGIITON. 55 The reflection has pro>ynbly arisen in the breast of the thoughtful reader, that here are many adventures recorded for so young a man to pass through or experience. This I ac- knowledge, but simply reply, that I have strictly adhered to truth, in the whole of my statements. At the close of this chapter, let me most atfec- tionately tell the discontented youth who reads these pages, that in my early, and subsequent trials, he may see the evils that await him if he allow discontent to have its sway, and perhaps far greater ones than these ; for if the author has happily escaped from iniquity and vice to which he was exposed during these wander- ings, it is alone through the grace of God who has preserved him. i-ii I'fl. I' I ;i.i :■ 1. ''!« ' ' I 11 and CHAPTER II. From tlie time he enlisted, to liis being embodied with his regi- ment in Montreal, Lower Canada. I am now commencing a new era of my life, and I would that I were better able to describe the scenes through which I have passed, for even now, I feel my spirit rising to God in ad- oration and thanksgiving for that Providence which has watched over and protected me in regniJ the (y)unse] of God ; and miserable indeed is thy soul, if while thou livetit tlion art not governed by any filial regard to eithei* ! Turn then to the path uf obedience^ virtue, and religion, and so sluilt thou secure a lung, happy, and blessed inheritance ! LI : ii >1 ;: --T^*^. 56 LIFE OF W. B. LfGIITON. ;( all my troubles. In view of the goodness of God to me, in these things, I am constrained to exclaim with David, " Bless the Lord, O my 80ul and forget not all his benefits.^^ I remained in Coventry about ten days wait- ing for the sergeant to complete the number of recruits he was commissioned to raise. These days I spent in visiting the different places of recreation, in company with my fellow recruits. I felt also, much concerned that my parents should know my situation, as they had not heard from mc si tire I left home. But fearing my new scene of life would induce my father to visit me, procure my dischargn, and take me home, I staggered to determine what to do. But after a ihw serious reflections upon this subject, and making his case my oim) I wrote him a plain account of all that 1 had done, re- questing at the same time an immediate answer, but receiving orders to march the next week, I wrote a second time simply stating the fact of my departure and the place of my destination. On the morning of our departure, we were paraded before the staff officers, by whom we were asked if we had any just cause of com- plaint. We answered negatively. LTpon which, one of the officers gave us a few words of ad- vice, and caution, which was highly necessary as almost every man exhibited the utmost en- thusiasm and glee. Under the command of an experienced officer we proceeded on our march to the Isle of Wight. Our journey wrs easy, as we seldom exceeded sixteen miles per day. \V LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 57 However, on our way we met with serious diffi- culties arising from the incivility of those land- lords upon whom we were hilletted during our march. To them the sight of a body of recruits was always disgusting, which disgust led them to treat these men in the most shameful, and sometimes almost brutal manner. Hence we were oflten put into beds, the sight of which would make a decent man shudder, and cause his flesh to crawl. Whenever we received good usage from this quarter, we failed not to treat them in the most respectful manner in return ; but on receiving contrary treatment we annoy- ed them by hooting all night like a party of owls and careless of threats, and importunity, we constantly kept our ungracious host from sleep until the dawn of day bid us take our depar- ture. At one place, when the hour arrived which called us to retire, we were required to follow the landlord, a command we cheerfully obeyed, hoping from the appearance of the place, to meet with comfortable beds and bed- u..ig. But our hopes were soon blasted from the continued progression of our march, for he pursued his way through the back yard towards the stables. Indeed each man now looked sor- rowful, expecting we were to be stabled, like horses. But having taken us through various windings, he at length brought us to an upper loft, connected with some of the out houses, when he left us with the following compliment : "Gentlemen, take which bed you please." Sorrowful sight ! To be sure we had a light, 6 1 ,1 ( I M i h m 68 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITONr i;: I but our liffht served but to make known tha horrors of our worse than JVetvgate cell. Like the moon in a cloudy night, bursting fitfully through the scowling vapors, she serves but to give the benighted traveller a glimpse of the craggy rocks and tremendous dangers which surround him, but afford him no relief from his trouble. So with our light ; it served but to increase our disgust, and to make known the character of those who had visited the disa- greeable spot before us. The room was largo and filthy, containing a number of heaps, from their appearance I should scarcely call them beds. Beds however they were, composed of the coarsest materials and any thing but clean. The walls were black and filthy having been smoked with the flare of the candle and portray- ed with the most ghastly images, so abhorrent that they reminded me of the chambers of hell. And indeed I should have pronounced the place a fitter habitation for devils than for rational men. Had I been alone, I should have been alarmed ; — as it was, I felt as if I was in the den of some wretched miscreant. Finding there was no help in the case, from constraint, we submitted, and composed ourselves in the best way we could. Upon the approach of morning we took and heaped bed upon bed into one fil- thy pile, and then prosecuted our march to, and through the city of Oxford, so famed for its uni- versity, and also as being the place where many of the followers of Jesus have, amidst flames of fire, "given up the ghost." At an early MFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 59 hour on the tenth day of our march, wo arrived at Southampton, a considerable town deriving its importance from its contiguity to the sea. It was at this pluce that the reproof of Canute to his flattering; courtiers, so oflcn mentioned by writers, is said to have occurred. As it is pos- sible all my young readers may not have read it, for their amusement and instruction I will here relate it. "As Canute the Great, King of England, was walking on the sea shore at Southampton, accompanied by his courtiers, who offered him the grossest flattery, comparing him to the greatest heroes of antiquity, and asserting that his power was more than human, he or'lered a chair to be placed on the beach, while the tid > was coming in. Sitting down with a majeiik air, he thus addressed himself to the <^ea : — "Thou sea, that art a part of my dominion.' , and the land whereon I sit, is mine : no one ever broke my commands with impunity. I, there- fore, charge thee to come no farther upon my lands, and not to presume to wet either my feet or my robe, who am thy Sovereign." But the sea, rolling on as before, and without any res- pect, not only wets the skirts of his robe, but likewise splashed his thighs ; on which be rose up suddenly, and addressing himself to his at- tendants, upbraided them will, iieir ridiculous flattery, and very judiciously expatiated on the narrow and limited power of the greatest mon- arch on earth. " Flatterers who praise great men, for their imaginary merit, lull them to , I i ,i I, . 60 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. f'\ 1 ! sleep to their real miseries." Then reader beware o^ flattery: of which the poet says, <*Ala8 ! thy sweet perfidious voice, betrays His wanton eure, willi th^ Syrian baits. Thou wrapp*8t iits eyes, in mist, then boldly lays. Thy lethal gins their crystal gates. Thou lock*st every sense, witli thy fakw^keys. All willing prisoners to thy close deceits. His ear most nimble, where it deaf should be, His eye most blind, where most it ought to see. And when his hearts most bound, then thinks himself most free.'* The hour of our embarkation at length arriv- ed, and afler a few hours pleasant sail we land- ed ^t Cowes, in the Isle of Wight, and proceed- ed on our march to the garrison, near Newport, at which place we arrived late in the evening. On the day following we were inspected by the board of officers for that purpose, and sent to our respective detachments, where we immedi- ately commenced our new profession. And soon I found my painful experience, that a sol- dier'^s life was far from being so easy and pleas- ing as I had been taught to believe. I soon found that toil and fatigue were incident to his life ; and that the plea of youth, and inexperi- ence could not be admitted, nor urged as a ground for exemption from duties which my strength was scarcely sufficient to perform. I shall here enter into a few particulars of my «xperience,that my readers may form some idea of a British soldier's life. Having fully entered upon this career, I was sent to the field to become minutely acquainted Vfii'si the duties of my station : and not with- LIFE OF W. B. LlfillTON. 61 standing my ungracefulness at first, I was soon pronounced ^^Jit for duiy.^^ In these schools for military instruction, were employed men of the most tyrannical dispositions, whose unmerciful proceedings, begat in their scholars, feelings of decided antipathy. Whereas, had they pursu- ed a milder course, they might have secured the good will of all who were placed beneath them. But instead of this, the least offence offered to these myrmidons, was resented with the most brutal ferocity, and often in a manner totally repugnant to the discipline of the Army; which, though severe in itself, does not counte- nance acts of tyranny on the part of subalterns. Their conduct towards us, had it been known, would have produced an expulsion. But fear bound our lips, and we submitted ourselves to these tyrannical monsters. But our trouble did not end here. Would that it had, we should not have had so much eause to repine, and mourn. We were abso- lutely deprived of many of the necessaries of life. Our daily allowance was but one pound of bread ; one pound of meat ; a pint of soup; and a pint of tea, with three or four potatoes, per man ; which in itself was scarcely suffi- cient had it been of good quality and measure. But they dealt out the miserable stuff as choice as if it had been gold. Our bread was compo- sed of the coarsest materials, and such was its adhesive qualities, that if a piece was thrown against the wall, there it would remain. In consequence of this scanty allowance the 0* ii "■;i mi M 1 ■ Ai 62 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. ! i ' young troops became strongly addicted to pil- fering, while many, from a principle of honesty, actually endured the pangs of hunger. So great was the distress, that every article of clothing, that could possibly be spared, was disposed of to procure the necessaries of life. Many of my companions in military adventure, now be- came anxiously concerned about the future. Some applied to their parents for money to procure their discharge, which many of them obtained. A very painful circumstance occurred during our stay in this place which made every young soldier lament the sad step he had taken, and almost to wish he had never been born. A very respectable young man, apparently of so- ber habits, (he was married) was so affected with a sense of the wretchedness into which he had thrown himself, that ho wrote to his pa- rents for money to procure his discharge. But unable to procure the necessary means from them, he adopted a measure, which not even his pungent distress, and pressing want could possibly justify. He was roomed with the pay- master sergeant of the regiment, and from him he secretly purloined twenty pounds; a sum suf- ficient to effect the desired object, which he enclosed in a letter, directed to his father. The loss, however, was soon discovered. For m lodging it in the post office, the post master having fears respecting it, made inquiry at the source from whence it was missing, and he was according imprisoned, tried by a court martial, 'i , LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 63 convicted, and sentenced to the cruel and igno- minious punishment of three hundred lashes. During his confinement, driven almost to des- peration by his situation, and doubtless while deprived of the right use of his reason, he wrote an instrument with his own blood, in which he swore unhallowed allegiance to the Devil, and expressed his intention of joining confederacy with the prince of darkness, there- by to evade the force of his cruel sentence. This instrument was discovered, and presented to the. Adjutant, who after pondering a moment over its mysterious contents, laconically obser- ved, " If the Devil is in him we will whip him out." The morning arrived for the execution of the sentence, and preparations were made for its accomplishment About two thousand troops were marched to the spot, where a square of four men in depth was soon formed. Next arrived the trembling culprit, who was stripped, and tied to a triangle, prepared for the purpose. When the order for commanding punishment was given, the general sympathy of the troops was expressed by a universal groan. Every blow which was inflicted, while it lacerated the back of the culprit, pained the heart of every soldier, and many turned aside from beholding the horrid scene. The bleeding criminal,cried in loud, and piercing accents for pardon, until the oft repeated blows created a deathish numb- ness upon the flesh and he became insensible to pain. At length, from the loss of blood, which flowed freely from his wound, he fainted, and ■ ;' li ■i» ) i- 'ii i ' t '■ < i ,\ * i! I M t i I i *i M M' > I 64 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. was conveyed from the brutal scene to the hos- pital. This painful circumstance produced in my mind many a cutting reflection, and gave birth to a fear, that by some unfortunate act, I f ould bring upon myself a similar punishment. Fain would I h? 'e petitioned my father to procure my dischar Te ; but the remembrance of my un- grateful nci tjwardshim, prevented me ; and 1 concluded I would bear my ills in silence ; consolling myself with the hope of better days when joined to my regiment in Canada. Another circumstance tended much to mili- tate against our peace. We were not permit- ted to go, on tiny account whatever, beyond the sound of the drum. One mile only in circum- ference, was the extent of tenitory we were allowed ; nor could we travel beyond this limit, without exposing ourselves to the treatment of deserters, which punishrf^ent would have been the infliction of seven hundred lashes, or im- prisonment, with transportation for life. We 'had had one specimen of this species of pun- ishment and numbers were then in close con- finement, awaiting their fate, with an anxiety almost as painful as the punishment. But not- withstanding these cogent warnings, I was once nearly involved in a like disaster. One beautiful afternoon, as we were taking a walk through the streets of Newport, near which place we were stationed, the sight of an ancient castle enkindled within us a desire to visit its antiquated walls ; which, from report, { 4 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. 65 we learned had been the place of the confine- ment of the French prisoners during the war. So solicitous were we to visit this place, that without respect to our restricted limits, we pur- sued our way towards it, and arrived without interruption at the spot ; being then about four miles from the garrison, and three miles beyond the line of our bounds. We were highly grat- ified with the scenery around the castle — it was strikingly beautiful. But our pleasures were soon intererrupted by a remembrance of the danger to which we were exposing ourselves, and the rapid approach of the hour appointed for our return to duty. But not contented with what we had seen of the exterior, as we walked around it, we resolved if possible^ to gain ad- mittance to the interior, as it was famed for the magnificence of its architecture. We accor- dingly pursued our way through a narrow pas- sage to the first door, which being open, we entered without ceremony, and advanced to a stupendous arch,where was a door of no ordinary size and workmanship, which repelled our uni- ted, and most powerful efiJbrts to open, We looked through some crevices, made by the mutilating finger of time, to discover, if possi- ble, what objects were within ; but could dis- cover naught, save what appeared to be other doors, equally ponderous as the one which im- peded our progress. We ntxt tried to arouse the attention of the inmates,by gently knocking; but receiving no answer, we became more loud in our demands, and pulled lustily upon a rope !i'll» \ ! • ' '.\ ;i i' \:'\ ^ ! ;j f~ • iji 6 o LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. to which a bell was attached. But no answer We now grew impatient, especially as our time was growing short, and we at length joined to give one unanimous call for admission ; each soldier taking a stone, and pounding with all his might against the massive doors, v/iiich, logeth- er with the continued ringing of the bell, rev- erbrated with a most astoimdinfi; noise along the vaulted roofs of the building, untii its echo became deafening and terriific, Fearing that the inmates might becoiije touched with resent- ment at our unseemly behavior, we hastily * 3- tired, and just as we passed the outer door, we mat an elderly gentleman, who reprimar ]:^d us severely for our misconduct and threatened, at thd same time, to send for a piquet guard. It was (ii"tunate for us that we had arrived beyond the outer door, else it would have been easy for him to have made us his prisoners, and we had then paid dearly for our adventure . Fearing that he had already sent for a guard of soldiers, for our apprehension, we quickened our pace, and arrived safely within the precints allowed us. Shortly after, we were again paraded to wit- ness another species of military punishment, whiiJh, though of a mortifying character, was less tinged with barbarity. It is sometimes cal- led - - - - <( a drumming out." The individual in question was placed between the ranks of in- fantry, followed by the musicians, playing the " rogues march." He was thus conducted to the confines of the garrison, where he was left your knew LIFE OP W. B. LIGIITON. 67 ■i to pursue his own course, being now disbanded, or freed from the obligations of his oath, and no longer a military subject. This punishment is sometimes inflicted for petty thefts, and in- corrigible profligacy. Many of our number would gladly have exchanged situations with him ; seeing it delivered him from all the tyr- anny and suflfering, to which he, in common with us, had been exposed. O, how would I have greeted such a punishment. To me it would have been the highest favor they could have conferred upon me ! But alas ! I could only in imagination trace ihe road which led ta home and all its lost delights ; while the reality of my case was like a dagger in my heart. O, miserable prospect ! A perpituity of bondage, to cease only with life ! An insurmountable barrier placed between me and the enjoyments of social life ! I had not neglected to send my parents an account of the events of my life, withholding only the most painful parts of my experience, lest they should grieve immoderately for their lost son. In answer to my first and second let- ters, I received the following from my father. Frampton Jan. Ist. 1821. Dear Sox — I have just received, by one post, both your letters, sent from Coventry ; and while I approve of your conduct in writing me concerning your situation, I can but lament your folly in leaving your place, of which I knew nothing until 1 received your letter, and t 1% ■V i- II i «' ' ■ '■''.lify^ 68 LIFE OP W. B. LIGIITON. ,1. ; ! your extreme rashness in entering upon a ca* reer so humiliating as a soldier's life ; a life at- tended with intolerable hardships, and what is worse, with every species of profanity, lewd- ness^ and wickedness. I hope you will remem- ber to keep yourself clear of these pcrnicouB practices. You know by this time they are a swearing set ; be sure you never join them in this respect. ^^ Swear not at all.'''* You are now beyond the reach of parental instruction, or at lea&t protection,and your situation.togeth- er with the distance which does, and will sep- arate us ; will, undoubtedly, create in future very serious anxiety for your welfare ; and I hope your duty as a child on this point, will be respectfully regarded. I would sincerely ad- vise you to be good and dutiful to your superiors; submissive to all your officers, and respectful in your deportment, so that I may hear from^ and see you again in peace. Your affectionate father, WILLIAM LIGHTON. I i !,■ '1 'etter from my father, paved the way for a regular correspondence, while it removed many fears from my mind, and gave me hopes of better days. Towards the spring of the year I suffered a little from sickness, which originated in a cold, taken one wet night while upon duty, and, al- though its symptons were not very alarming, I was conducted to the Hospital, where I was examined, and retained to undergo a course of LIFE or W. B. LIGIITON. 69 ■t medicine. While I remained under medical care, which was about twenty-one days, I un- derwent more pain and sufTcring than I had heretofore experienced. I was deprived of my usual provisions, and received as a substitute, a pint of gruel, or rice, with but very little of any other artilile of consumption. Towards the close of my sickness, I was supplied with articles of food somewhat more substantial^ though in too small a quantity, properly to sup- ply the wants of nature. While in this situa- tion, I was vidited by my comrade, who after a few words of enquiry concerning my healthy presented me with a letter, which proved oa being opened, to be from my father, and con- tained a small sum of money, a most accepta- ble present in my situation, as it served to pro- cure the means of alleviating my distress. My health having recovered, I was permitted to return to my duties in the garrison, which was but of short continuance, as the time had nearly arrived when wo expected to sail for head quarters in America Already had or- ders arrived for a detachment to be sent to the second battalion of the corps, stationed at Hal- ifax, N. S. Previous to the arrival of this or- der we were called to witness scenes the most heart-breaking and distressing. Many of the new recruits were married men, whose youth- ful companions had voluntarily followed them,* ' ■< - — ■" * It will bti observed, that the prime cause which led these unfortunate iudividuiiK-^ to enlist into the Army, was the gen- eral distress then provalont aaiong the laboring class. Such, 7 ''\' .!'■.' !H I ■ ■»■: • k s ii 'X n ^1 V\ H * ■ i , 70 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON* choosing rather to cnduro with their beloved husbands, the rigors of a military hfe than to suflTer a painful separation ^ when the command- ing officers interfered, and ordered that all the women above a specified number should be forthwith returned to their native homes. Tlie day arrived when this order was rigor- ously executed ; when the young and innocent wife was torn from the beloved embrace of her youthful husband, amid sobs and tears the most touching. Even now, methinks I hear the shrill scream of the women, as with the deepest agony of soul, thfiy took the long, last, affecting farewell. How wild the look of the parent a» with a countenance almost like distraction he gazed upon his blooming offspring, which he loved as his own soul. He must now leave them, not to be well provided for, and taken care of, that would be some alleviation^ but the soldier can have no such hope, his wife is poor^ her family poor, he leaves them then to extreme poverty and destitution. And the poor broken- hearted motlier, her case is worse, far worse I She leaves her husband and in leaving him she leaves her all on earth, her only stay in life. And is she at ease ? Ah no ! The thought of joys, forever gono, destroys her peace. She retains a faint f^mblem of the father in her child, which only ^erves to tell he is gone for- indeed was tltc Kcaiitisiess of labor, and the low wages, and the suffbiiiigs it occasioned that very many of the most respectable of the poor, were from im()erious necespity driven to the army, as an assyiiitn to screen and save tliein from tkreatcmd star' vatton. V i1 LIFE OP W. B. LIOIITOX. 71 ever, or at least sev^rated from her ; this is a sorrow which servtb lo increase her woes. and ciuIh In luimnn misery profound. At last she hears that her protector has gono the way of all the earth, and has left her child destitute of every means of support, of every thing calculated to sweeten the bitter cup of Hfe. Without friends or home these children grow up, left to the tender mercies of a wicked world ; they become common beggars, doomed to suffer the miseries of an ignorant and wretch- ed life ; and too often to end that life upon the gallows. With a faint description of these evils before us, may we not pity that power which has so far departed from its original ex- cellence, as to be the cause of these glaring evils. So void of benignity are its supporters that they trample licentiously upon that class of subjects, (the poor) from whom they derive their principal support. Thus are merciless tyrants usurping what never belonged to them; and they are evidently determined to stifle eve- ry sentiment of respect to a proper administra- tion of the affairs of a suffering nation. O England ! the clouds are gathering blackness around thee ! Thy once exuberant brightness is now tarnished, and methinks thy fate will end in scenes worse than thy martyrdoms ! But may the Lord prevent this calamitous event, and defend thy palaces with princes, and thy courts with noblemen whose characters shall be unblemished ! Hoping the reader will pardon If i' t h » I \ r ' i. i f ■;> 'i: t • ( ■■'A. 72 LIFK OF W. D, LIGIITON. ,1 •! :( ' n 1) 1' 'i: II! I j ■,). • i'l iiii i!| this digression I proceed to ofTor i iow moro remarks upon the circumstances I ha/c but faintly depicted. The reader may have asked the question to himself, was there no prospect that these horror stricken husbands and wives being again uni- ted ? To this it may be replied not unless they obtained their discharge, and that required a sum they never would be pble to pay, on ac- count of their poverty. The attachment of these men appeared to be of the strongest kind, for some of them willfully maimed themselves that they might be considered unfit for service. An instance of this kind I will mention. A young man as ho was accompanying his wife to Cowes to take his final leave of her, and ap- parently under deep concern, requested leave to step aside for a moment, which was granted, when secreting himself beneath a stone bridge, he resolutely cut his thumb from his hand with a razor which he had prepared for the purpose, and then throwing both into an adjoining field, he joined the rest of his company. His situa- tion being observed by the officer, he was im- mediately arrested, and soon after tried by a court martial, and sentenced to be a pioneer in the garrison for life. Thus were this unfortu- nate couple, with many others, bereft of their early enjoyments, and disappointed in their fondest expectations, torn from each' other by ruthless tyrants, whose tender mercies were cruelty. What must have been the feelings of that young woman when slie saw her husband LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 73 noro but thus expose his life to gain his liberty and to bo her friend, and then to hear of his consignment to a painful and wearisome life. O, wretched life, thought I, 'tis better to be dead than to live ! And what may not such cruel, hard hearted monsters expect from the hand of that God who hath said in his holy word, " What^ ther^ore, God hath joined together , let not man put asunder. ^^ Matt. xix. 6. Having now no alleviation from duty, I thought myself in reality a slave ; and the thought that it was for life, was almost more than I- could bear. The day at length arrived for our embarkation ; it was hailed with de- light by many of us, as we imagined that our trials would now be lessened, and that better times would smile upon us. We were all equipped with suitable apparel for the climate, and by this means deeply involved in debt. Early in the morning of our departure we took an affectionate farewell of the associates we were about to leave ; every soul exhibited emo- tions of concern, and good feeling accompanied with expressions intimating their wishes for our future prosperity, while inhabitants of distant climes. For my own part my thoughts revert- ed to the scenes of home, its pleasures and as- sociations, which made it an interestingly pain- ful occasion. The hour arrived, and the beat- ing of drums summoned us to order, when each man securing his knapsack, hastened to the parade ground, and after inspection we procee- ded on our march to Cowes, accompanied part >i I , IL ■ 1 ,1^ !• / li 74 LIFE OF VV. B. LIGIITON. : '' I') H ) ;ii f J r of the way by a band of music, to cheer with its enlivening influence our drooping spirits. It was now that my affections were severely tried. Home had a charm too strong to be dispt;Ued by the rolling of drums ; I was now about to leave it forever, every spot we passed seemed like some spot dear to memory, and spoke with a voice of thrilling interest to my soul. While waiting on the shore for boats to con- vey us to the ship, I employed my time in bringing to view the diversiiied scenes through which! had passed ; the troubles I had endur- ed, and the home I had left. Such were my emotions that I would fain have kissed the soil on which I stood, and when the boat arrived. I felt reluctant to leave the never forgotten shores of Albion, and as I stepped heavily into the boat, I offered a silent prayer for the blessing of heaven upon my friends and myself. O ! must I a poor exile evor mourn ; Nor after length of rolling yeiirs return 1 Am I compelled to leave my friends and home ; To live no more 'neath llie ancerftral dome 1 May kind lieav'n be our guide — our pteps defend. And may Thy blessing crown us to the end. At fifteen years I leave butli home and land An infant soldier to obey command. Immediately after arriving on board we were all sent below and hatched down, to prevent disorder, or escape, and the next day, having a fair wind, we weighed anchor and set sail. May 22nd, 1821, and soon left far behind us the beauteous and lovely scenes which every a ft w '&■ w o c '-i r with pirits. irerely to be .3 now passed r, and to my con- imc in drouth endur- ere my he soil :ived. I 1 shores nto the dessing nid. ,ve were prevent laving a lil, May us the every '[ i il T 11 !r^ ! ! . '<■] •M) «i.;i . .1 i'ti r M'i ;|i ! i ,. h 'I LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 75 where abound in thai far famed Isle. Soon it assumed the appearance of a shapeless mass, interestinnr only from the consideration that it was our native land. England ! my homBf thy scenes 1 luve well ; Home, where cuittenttneiit and happiness dwell ; Home, where my infantile \veaknes3 was ursed, Tlie place where my parents saluted me first ■; Though thy walls n ay be hid beyond the g>eat deep, And the Atlantic b lluws between us do Hwccp ; Thou'rt the home of my .fathers — the place of my birth. And more precious to me than the wealth of the earth. Home, where domestic enjoyment alioands. Home, where tlu) pleasures of kindred are found. Home, where a father instructed my youth, And a mother's fund care taught me virtue and truth; Where health strewM her roses and sorrow beguiled, Where inm w .- ' iri ''^^% 1 1^ 'jil 1 1 •' u J' 9 ill I'l ■ ■! ■ .' ' * ' f 1 1 1 1 \ \ > 1 . ' > 1 1 " : I' ■ ■ i 1 : 11 H' ; .. j 1 ■ 1 r I : ' 1 r J I y \m ! 1 if I.- ill ji I liy i u 1 1 il| 1 i ' )' ' ^li i 1 : ,' y il g 1 , ( ■ [1 B U j| i. 11 j 1^li| Il '' 1 i ; ■ ( 76 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. lighted up every countenance with joy and gladness, and tended much to dissrpate the melancholy of which we were the subjects. But, man is inconsiderate and thoughtless ; in the hour of prosperity he forgets the coining dangers which tread close upon the heels of safety. In his prosperous moments he is un- mindiul that his circumstances are changeable; that there is a superior being who superintends the concerns of his creatures, and who claims their homage and worship. Hence, to show us the instability of earthly things, God often brings us to experience painful and opposing providences, which are real mercies, as they are sent to save us from greater evils, and to promote our highest good. But to return, after sailing thus,about a week, we experienced a painful change ; the breeze, hitherto obedient to our wishes,became adverse and furious. The waves which had previously playfully smacked our vessel's side, now foam- ing with rage, threatened distruction to our cra- zy hark, and so iiirious was the storm that we expected every hour to be sent to the bottom ; the sea broke furiously over the deck, washing and driving us from side to side. Amid these gloomy hours of fearfulness and sorrow, I com- posed myself as much as possible by praying and singing hymns to him whose power alone could calm "the raging seas." I always <*elt disposed to be on deck when they would permit me, watching the progress of the 3torm,or read- ing the feelings of the crew by their physiog- LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 77 nomj. For about two weeks, the storm con- tinued, during which, we could only keep one sheet to the windj every other sail being close- ly reefed. After the storm subsided we spoke with several ships, which tended greatly to en- liven our spirits. At length, after many storms and dangers, we heard the welcome cry of Land from the man at the mast head^ which we found by examination to be the American coast. The wind was now fair, and both troops and crew were anxious and impatient to enter the river St. Lawrance, when unfortunately we ran the ship aground. This sudden and un* expected disaster occasioned much excitement and tumult, as we were under the necessity of unloading the ship or waiting the return of the tide ; the latter appeared the most dangerous course, and we adopted the former. It was accordingly thought prudent to throw away our wnter ; the pumps were immediately set to work and our water disposed of, except a scan- ty portion, to serve us till we gained the river. After this was done, a boat with cwo anchors wa>7 sent astern of the ship and sunk, and the troops plying well at the winches,we sucxeeded in getting her off into deep water, suffering no other Io;is but our water. We again ^suffered from adverse winds, which kept us beating !ibout for several days, and had like to have been productive of death, v/orse than drown- ing, viz. death by third. Our water became almost exhausted, and what remained was so loathesome (it stank like carrion) it was obnox-> II ' "H ,: .1 !ii I [1 1 78 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. mi 111 \\\ •i ill ious to the taste, and our allowance, even of this, was so scanty it was not enough to sustain nature ; about one half pint per day being each man's share. The great heat of the day served to enhance our misery ; our tongues failed for thirst, and we were ready to faint. Such was my distress that I vainly strove to quench it with sea water, but its insufferable saltness de- terred me from making more than one trial, and once I procured a portion from the hogs- head by stealth, notwithstanding the orders of the commander, and the scrutiny of the sentinel placed over it to protect it from tho pilferings of the troops, and although it was disgusting to the taste, yet, in my circumstances, it proved a most refresing draught. But before I proceed further 1 beg leave to lay before the reader a means of preserving water for any length of time, sweet and whole- some. Families, as well as mariners, often suffer much from water losing its sweetness, in situations where they cannot enjoy the privilege of drawing it immediately from th.e chfystalj spring, but have to secure it by means vof cis- terns, or otherwise, and as I shall have no bet- ter opportunity to mention it, I shall do it here^, believing it to be of importance to some of my fellow creatures. " In order to keep fresh water sweet, take of fine, clear, white, pearl ashes, a quarter of a pound, of avoirdupois weight, and put it into one hundred gallons of fresh water, (observing this proportion to a greater or less quantity) i I' LIFE OF W. D. LIGIITON. 79 and stop up your cask as usual, till you have occasion to broach it lor use. As an instance of its utility and success, Dr. Butler put an ounce of pearl ashes into a twenty-five gallon cask of Thames water, which he stopt up very close, and let it stand for upwards of a year and a half, opening it once in four months, and constancy found it in the same unaltered con- dition, and perfectly sweet and good. To the mariner, the following receipt from the same author may not be unacceptable. To make sea water fresh, " take bees-wax and mould it into the form of an empty, hollow ves- sel ; sink the vessel into the sea, and the water, after a while, will work its way through the pores of the wax, and the quantity contained in the vessel will be fresh, and good for use." " But fresh water may be had in much great- er plenty, and more expeditiously, by filling a vessel with river sand, or gravel, and pouring salt water upon it.* The vessel must be per- forated at the bottom, and by applying a linen strainer, the water, after undergoing a few fil- trations, will lose all its brackish taste." Were this plan generally adopted at sea, how mucl^ misery occasioned by thirst might be avoided. But to return ; we were now enveloped in a dense fog, so thick that we could not see a rod beyond the bows of the ship, and after sailing several days in this situation, and having ar- rived, though unknowingly, into the Gulf of St. ♦Tlie inpthod piirsiutd in this case is siiuilur to that we pur- sue In leaching as!\es to obtain l«-v. 8 il ililli rf^ 80 <„! 1 I I i If ^1^ i h ! '! i^ il LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. Lawrence, one morning between the hours of twelve and four, the Captain was aroused by a tremendous grating as if the ship had come in contact with some rocks ; he rushed upon deck in his shirt, and with a voice that thrilled every heart, shouted, " about, shipy or we are lost. The command was sudden and unexpected ; a momentary pause ensued, none dared move a step till the Captain a second time reiterated his order. The men seeing their danger, flew each to his station, and aided by the troops of the second watch, about sixty in number, sooQ succeeded in bringing her about. It was then discoverable that a few moments longer would have hurried us upon a massive ledge of rocks, where all must inevitably have perished. Prov- idence, kind Providence, alone effected our rescue, for had not the Captain awoke at that precise moment, all must have been lost ! Turning from this scene of danger we felt ourselves inspired with new courage, but were soon alarmed again by a similar cause, which circumstance induced us to cast anchor, and wait for day. We might here notice the fact that during all this alarm, two of the watches-, amounting to over a hundred men, were fast asleep, below, ignorant of their danger, and when the anchor was dropped, drawing after it the huge chain cable, which mr^de a report as if the ship was smashing to pieces, it aroused them from their peaceful slumbers in a moment, and sent some in horrid confusion and nuddity to the deck, screaming and crying ibr mercy, LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. 81 and it was sometime before they could be per- suaded of their safety, so as to retire again to their couches. We remained at anchor till day light, when we again weighed anchor, and gaily and rapid- ly ascended the majestic St. Lawrence, from whence we soon obtained refreshing draughts of water. We soon hailed, and obtained a pilot, but the wind changing and operating against us, we could only progress when the tide was ascending, laying at anchor when it receded, during which seasons we were much enlivened by the appearance of the country, and by the converse of the passengen and crews of other ships. I should have been glad could we have seen more of the country as we passed it, when on the sail, but such was the tyranny of our officers, that we could not have this desirable privilege allowed us, as we were much of the time, hatched down in the ship's hold like con- victs. Before I proceed further, I will state an in- stance wherein may be seen the cruel tyranny and injustice of (he commanding officer of the troops on board. At one time on our passage I had washed my clothes and hung them out on the rigging, and in the night they were stolen. In the morning, finding they were gone, I made immediate inquiry, and found them in posses- sion of one of the soldiers. J took the proper measure to report him to the officer, to get sat- isfaction in the restoration of my articles ; but he, far from showing me justice, bid me '^ be ■ 1 , ' v.i- i ! ' 82 LIFE OP AV. B. LIOaTON. :i , L i I' M gf^nty'' and threatened -^ that if he heard amthcr tcordjrom me he would put me Into confinement^^ Thus, after the clearest idcntifiruL m of my prOj)ei ty,I was silenced, slave like, by a haughty tyrant. J^ow applicable and true the proverb in thig case. ^' When subjects rro lil-treated by subaltern officers, and cannot make remon- strance to the prince, beca.ise the too great au- thority of the ministers of stuie deprives them of the means; their lot is like that of a man, who, half dead with thirst, approaches a river to drink, but, perooiving a crocodile, is obliged to perish for lack of water, or submit to be de- voured." But we soon arrived in full view of the city of Quebec, where we had a pleasant sight of its most elegant buildings and fortifications, which sight produced the greatest animation, from the consideration thai we were near the place of destination, where we /ondly hoped thrt our troubles would at least be mitigated, if thijy did not cease. My heart palpitated with joy as I heard our salute fired from the can- non on the battery ; soon after, we cast anchor about half a mile from the shore in front of the city. We were soon attended with boats which came laded with provisions for the supply of our wants, upon which we feasted like men who had narrowly escaped starvation. It was seven weeks from the time we left Cowes, till we lan- ded at Quebec. The day after our arrival, another ship, containing two hundred troops, arrived, which had made the voyage in four LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. 83 i weeks only. The next day we were all put on board a steam boat, and taken to Montreal, in possession of good health and spirits. The officers of the regiment were waiting to board us, immediately on our arrival at the wharf, whose manner towards us, was affable, and kind : they congratulated us upon our arrival, and without any appearance of harshness, pa- raded us on board the steam boat, and marched us up to the barracks, here we were kindly received by the old liers of the regiment, who willingly dividec .. revisions among us, to meet our wan" ' were all retained in the barracks yard, (..iUi divided, and allotted to the different coinpanies during which time I was visited by two English officers, who ques- tioned me closely, concerning my parentage, history, &c. with evident symptoms of respect for my youth, which probably, first excited their curiosity. It was into their company that I was drafted, at which I was not a little pleased. We were, for a few days, treated with consid- erable kindness and lenity, during which tim^e, many of us visited the ancient and antique buildings of the city, which to my mind, pre- sented but a poor contrast to the splendid cities of England. I was not a little surprised, also, at the appearance of the regiment : it was made up of almost every nation upon earth ; in fact, there were English, Irish, Scotch, French, Germans, Portuguese, Spaniards, Italians, and Dutch ; an assemblage which made no very pleasing impression upon my mind. Many of 8* ;l; ll }■ >f ^%-. ^ oOs* IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) /> ^ >i 1.0 I.I 1.25 I^|2j8 |2^ ■50 ■^~ n^H ■u l&i 12.2 £f 144 ■" 2.0 14 li& JA IM I '/] "^ %y^ ^ V ^>. Hiotographic Sciences Corporation 33 WIST MAIN SIXilT WEBSTiR.N.Y. USSO (716) S73-4S03 m v ^^ ^ /.«; 84 LIFE OF W. D. LIGIITON. them possessed the fierceness of Indian warri- ors, but exhibited, in the whole, the diversified peculiarities of the several nations to which they belonged. Some bore about with them the marks of distin<;uished zeal and piety ; others were totally void of every feeling or sen- timent, but that of superstition and vice ; and had they been as active for God and religion, as they were for vice and impiety, they would have been good Christians ; while others seem- ed to possess all the brutality and stupidity of brutes Withal, I felt surprised that the Brit- ish soldiers should so far imitate the semi-bar- barians as to wear the beard long upon the up- per lip, which was the case at that time, al- though it was discontinued shortly after. Our oiiicers were mostly men of pliant dispositions, and by nation, were English, Irish, Scotch,and Germans ; our commanding officer, Colonel Fitsgerald, was an Irishman by birth, a gentle- man by education and property, and possessed a disposition that rendered him beloved by eve- ry soldier under his command. His lady was a woman equally admired, possessing qualifi- cations rarely discoverable in persons of her rank; her influence was great, and her manners pleasing ; from her sympathy and efforts in be- half of poor delinquents, she was emphatically styled the ^^ prisoner'*8 advocak.^^ LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON. 85 CHAPTER III. An aoconnt of hia trials and suiTeringfl from the time he joined his Regiment, to his reprieve from death : contnining some affecting occurrences. By this time we were sufficiently rested to commence our military duties, and each com- pany was placed under the care of an experi- enced sergeant, to be fitted by drill, as soon as possible to relieve the old soldiers from their extremely arduous and excessive toil. We were accordingly taken to the field, and kept closely to our work, being allowed scarcely any time for rest, or recreation. During this peri- od of my life I oflen thought of home and pa- rents, and indeed, I wrote, until receiving no answers to any of my letters, my patience be- came exhausted, and I ceased writing for a con- siderable time. In connection with our fatiguing drill, which was so irksome that we were glad to retire to bed as soon as the hour arrived, was the evil we experienced from being tormented half to death with bed bugs, which would come upon us in swarms, and bite ua bo severely in our sleeping hours, that we could not rest. My method in revenging myself upon these crea- tures, was this '. after I had retired to bed, to set a light near by, where I could readily grasp it, but hiding it so as to have no light discover- able, I would lay down my head, when, no k ;'.: \ I '•IV. :: )! H i\ 86 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. !- sooner done than they perceiving an opportuni- ty to fall upon their prey, would surround my head and neck in multitudes. Provoked at their invasion, I would spring for my light and destroy all I could as they retired to their re- treat. But as this method had but little effect, other than that it produced an unaccountable stench, I next took my bed, and making it up, on the floor of the room, made a trench of water round it that might prevent their approach. But though this was successful, they were not defeated ; but still made their ravages by falling down upon me from the floor of the upper room, so that in fact, my case was not in the least ameliorated ; in consequence of which, I was obliged to submit, without a remedy, to these unmerciful tormentors. And many of the sol- diers, from the same cause slept out in the bar- racks yard, in the open air, but its efl^ect was evidently more injurious than the torment of bed bugs. We were ofl;en called to witness the punish- ment of criminals, who, for crimes of diflTerent grades were brought fo^-^'ard to receive merited punishment. On theb .;casions, our humane Colonel would turn asiue his head and weep, and would generAiiy remit the greatest portion of the unhappy man's punishment ; and, had it not been for ihe existing law, he would have dispensed, ia his regiment, with that kind of punishment entirely. It was our misfortune shortly to lose this hu- mane and valuable oflicer, he being appointed of I th< ^^r■ LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON. 87 \1 to a higher station. He was succeeded by a Colonel Andrews, a Scotchman, and of a dis- position precisely different from his predeces- sor in every respect ; and his conduct, when he assumed the command, seemed as if he had determined to ruin the confidence, and destroy the happiness of the regiment. He commen- ced by driving the troops, both old and young, into the field for exercise, a measure entirely useless, and highly offensive to the old troops, as they had not been used for many years, to such treatment. They grumbled and complain- ed loudly, at being thus hammered and drilled about, in the fundamental principles of their duty which they all perfectly understood. The harshness of our new Colonel, and the severe punishments he inflicted for minor and trivial offences, caused many of the soldiers to de- sert ; some of whom were unfortunate enough •o be taken prisoners. They were tried by court martials, and sentenced to seven hundred lashes : such spectacles, as we have already hinted, were cruel and savage in the extreme. -The poor condemned soldiers. Like culprits doomed to cruel torture, Would sit impatient, and inly ruminate The morning's danger; and their gestures sad. Investing pallid cheeks, and sunken hearts. Presenting tliem unto the gazing throng Like so many horrid ghosts. But, as I design to be more particular in giving an account of the punishment, a scene of which I was an eye witness, while among them, I shall give it here, without attennting :i ;' ii l;;i ! Il ,". ■M ''5 ,- V 88 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. i." to aflTect any thing from what it is in reality, and Mrhat every one knows, who has been ac- quainted with the British military character. ^ Whenever a soldier was found guilty of a crime, and condemned to receive corporeal punishment, he was confined under guard, till the morning sp'^cified in his court martiai,whcn he should receive his punishment. The troops were then formed into a square of two deep, and the "/riang/e," an instrument made for the purpose, was brought and placed, composed of three poles, with a bolt to fasten them to- gether at the upper^end, and spread wide en- ough to fasten the prisoners legs and hands to two of them : this, with a board that run across to each pole for the prisoner to bear his breast upon, completed the barbarous instrument. Next, the poor criminal, guarded by a file of soldiers and an officer, is conducted to the tri- angle, where they remain until the adjutant reads bis court martitil and sentence. After which, the commanding officer gives the word '^ proceed to punishment," when the criminal is stript to his naked backy and tied firmly with cords round his ancles and wrists, to the two spars of the triangle ; thus, in a forward, lean- ing posture, he is stretched, ready to receive the application of the whip. The company of musicians, with the drum or bugle-major, take their stand in single file in rear of the prisoner, as also the surgeon of the regiment, who is there to watch the symptoms of the sufierer, and to relieve him if he thinks he is not able to i ft tn O ft M **1'^^' X ~''^'*' -V i 't^l :!: r 'V i 1 :-^' y^i: i.^>,- .i^^ . j;S;f' 'i I ■ r n m 1 1 I im 1 f Bv t ill 1 fu LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 89 endure his punishment. The hugle-major then orders the first musician next to him to take hid stand at the post of duty, which he does within about one pace of the criminal ; and thus, with a cat of nine tails in his hand, proceeds, and inflicts the cat at every time the bugle-major counts, which is about once in every four sec- onds. Thus commences this nainful scene. At the end of every twenty-five lashes the execu- tioner is relieved by a fresh hand who is bound to inflict the lacerating lash with all his might. The following is a description of the whip, or cat of nine tails, and the manner in which it is used. The cat itself is composed of nine sep- arate and distinct cords, between an eighth and a quarter of an inch in size, twisted very hard, and having on each strand, three nots, tied at regular distance, near the end ; sometimes these have been fixed with wire, to make the punishment more severe and excrutiating. The length of these cats are about eighteen inches from the stock, and the stock itself, about fif- teen inches long. The manner in which it is compelled to be used, is indeed the most sur- prising, and inhuman. The e lecutioner, as he stands, raises his body with a nervous exertion, applies his whip with all his strength, then with a singular whirl, brings it again to his right, ready for the second application. And, in case the executioner should be remiss in his duty, the bugle-major alarms him of it, by flogging him on the shoulder with a whip, it will be observed that all the while the executioners tre 9 Ur\ \ 90 LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON. obliged to bo stript in their shirt sleeves : this needs no comment ! The effect this kind of punishment had upon its piteous sufferers, is almost too appalling to mention. The first blow usually called forth his groans. The first twenty-five lashes gen- erally fetched blood ; the first hundred would tear the flesh almost to pieces, and before he had received the whole of his punishment the blood would run copiously down his back, run- ning in streams into his shoes, and flooding the ground. In this distressed situation, with his back mangled as if ravinous dogs had fed upon it, the poor culprit would beg for mercy, but in vain ; sometimes he would fill the unconscious air with his piteous groans and bowlings, and beg for the remission of half the sentence, ex- claiming, like Cain, ^^my punishment is greater than I can bear. "^^ But no ; the cruel appetite of the Colonel must be glutted to its full ; he would stand unmoved at the painful and bloody spectacle, and sometimes, biting his lips (one of his peculiarities) would walk in front of the troops, as unconcerned as if the scene before him was one of the most pleasing nature. But not so with the soldiers, for their hearts were touched with compassion, and many of them fainted, and fell to the ground ; and others turned their heads from beholding the inhuman spectacle. These pmiishments were always attended within the walls of the barracks-yard, and every entrance to the streets, closed, to prevent the inhabitants from coining in, or oth- aga LIFE OF W. n. LIGIITON. 91 this jpon g t? forth gen- ^ould :e he it the , run- igthe th his I upon but in 9cious 3, and ;e, ex- rreater petite he loocly >s (one of the before But were f them others ihuman always yard, sod, to or oth- :s crwise to prevent them from n knowledge of what was transpiring. And, indeed, well they might seclude their diabolical and hellish deed; for it was too barbarous for humanity to look upon and not weep. It was a punishment as hitter as death ! — a punishment which the hea- then savages in comparison with civilized Eng- land, would shudder to inflict upon their vilest enemy. After the execution, a wet cloth was thrown on the back of the prisoner and he was conveyed to the hospital, more dead than alive, to be cured ; which would take from a month to six weeks, if he ever recovered at all. Such indeed has been the horrid effect of this punishment, that many have been known to die in receiving it, and others have had their flesh whipped off, so that their bowels have fallen out. What brutality is this for man to be guilty of ! Surely, it is ahominable and devilish in the •extreme. It has not its parallel but among the savage nations of the earth ! O England ! my country, can this be thy crime ? Are my countrymen so destitute of humanity y as to be deservedly ranked among the savages of the forests ? May God forbid it, and the holy re- ligion you profess to love ! Banish this evil ; ■banish it, I say, from thy land, that thy cruelty and thy crimes may not be in such black array against thee ! Before 1 dispense with this sub- ject, I will give the note at large, of the cele- brated writer. Doctor Clarke, that the reader may judge, and receive more credibly, the above, from what he writes upon tliis subject. ■i i! 92 LIFE OF W. B. MGHTON, ii j ) V Those who posscsa his commentary mny find it in Deut. xxv. 3. ^^Fortfj stripcB ye may g;ive him, and NOT EXCEED." "According," eays the Doctor, ^^to God's institution, a crim- inal may receive forty stripes : not one more ! But is the institution from above or noty that for any offence, sentences a man to receive three hundred, yea, a thousand stripes r Wliat hor- rible brutality is this ! and what a reproach to human nature, pnd to the nation, in wh'ch such «hockinjgr barbarities are exercised and tolera- ted ! Slost of the inhabitants of Great Britain have heard oi Lord Macartney^s Embassy to the Emperor of China ; and thoy have heard, also, of its complete failure ! But they have not heard of the cause. It appears to have been partly occa.sioned by the following circumstance. A soldier had been convicted of some petty trafHc with one of the natives, and he was sen- tenced, by a court martial, to receive sixty iashes 1 — Hear my author : " The soldiers were drawn up in form, in the outer court of the palace, where he resided, and the poor culpr't being fastened to one of the pillars of the grea* portico, received his punishment without miti- gation. The abhorrence excited in the breasts of the Chinese, at this cruel conduct, as it ap- peared to them, was demonstrably proved by their words and looks. They expressed their astonishment that a people professing the mild- est, the most benevolent religion on earth, as they wished to have it believed, could be guilty of such flagrant inattention to its merciful die- LIFE OF W. M. LICHTOIV. 93 id it rim- ore ! it for three hor- ,ch to such ^lora- kitain to the , also, '6 not > been stance, petty iS sen- sixty oldiera of the culprit grea*. it miti- jreasia it ap- ved by d their e mild- rth, as guilty Iful dic- ihiOB. One of the principal mandarins, who knew a little English, expressed the general sentiincnt, ^^EngUsLtncfh loo muck cvacly loo much bad.^^ But the ilUtimcd severity oftlie Colonel,had a bad and injurious eftect ; for while he kept us at exercise continually, sometirnes driving us to the field before the a[)proach of day, and punishing severely, the minor ofleiiccs of tlie men, the troops deserted at every opportunity; to p. event this, he confi'ied us all to the hiirnicks, for sev- eral weeks, whereupon, many swore tliry would desert immediately atler they should be liberated, and accordingly, in a short p<3riod, we lost, by de- sertion, upwards of a hundred men. This enra- ged the Colonel to the highest pitch of madness ; and one day, after parade, ho formed us into a close body, and addressed us in the most provok- ing language, calling us — rogues and traitors, and threatening us with the utmost severity, if we dared to disobey his orders. On one occa- sion, I was so unfortunate as to full beneath his displeasure. One day exercising on the parade, the Colonel commanding by means of the bu- gle, he gave the word, "disperse and fire," which was obeyed with alacrity and speed, when the bugle again sounded, " assemble, and form ranks in double quick ; " we were all full of glee upon the occasion, being surrounded by spectators, when I was noticed to be in the rear, by the adjutant, who struck me with his sword, and took down my name ; whereupon, I told him the reason, which was, that in a skir- 9* M 94 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 1 1 U I? ,. ' ( I'l mish, a soldier accidentally trod upon my heel, and tore off the sole of my shoe and so hinder- ed me from running ; but he answered me with an oath, pushed me into the ranks, and told me I should be punished. The next day I was or- dered, with a number of others, to knapsack drilly which consisted in our being made to ap- pear upon the parade ground, in lull marching order, with our packs upon our backs, and in this sv* ^ation, we were marched, and counter- marcheoj until our strength and patience be- came exhausted ; insoniuch, that regardless of the consequence, we ventured to disobey the orders of our commanding officer. Hence when he gave the word, " right, or left turriy^^ we would march off in differei t directions, un- til he became so exasperated, that he threaten- ed to put us under guard, which threat creating in us a fear of a worse punishment, induced us to submit quietly, to the remainder of our pun- ishment ; thus out of two evils choosing the least. The precautions of the officers to prevent desertions, were such, that it was now next to impossible to desert, unless possessed of some means of conveyance. We had to ansv/er the roll call at least, four times a day, when, if it was discovered, any soldier was missing, prep- arations were immediately made for his discov- ery and detection : which, indeed, rendered it difficult to be absent long at a time, without incurring suspicion and punish'nent. But so unplcuscmt was our situation, that numbers, LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 95 i, ' er- ath me or- mck ap- tiing d in iter- j be- dless y the !ence J, un- ;aten- 'ating ed U3 pun- the N, g •event ext to some er the if it prep- iscov- sred it ithout Jut so ubers, risking all danger, still deserted, of whom, some escaped ; and others were detected. Among the latter, was a young Englishman, named Arnold, who was sentenced to receive seven hundred lashes. While preparing to be fasten- ed to the triangle f he placed a leaden ball be- tween his teeth, and declared he would not so- licit any remission of his punishment, from the Colonel, and he maintained his word, receiving the whole of the seven hundred lashes, without uttering an expression, and actually at the close of it, put on his clothes without assistance, thanking them in a low manner for his break- fast, after which, he turned round and ran out of the square, heedless of all authority, but the Colonel, dissatisfied at his conduct, called him back, and commanded him to march out more orderly. I beg leave further to remark that the ground where the sufferer stood, was sprinkled with blood by the whip which was itself bathed in gore, so much that the blood would drop off the end of the cats. But this is not the worst, for when the whip is thus soaked, reeking in gore, it is either washed in water, or a fresh one taken in its place. IntoleraJble tyranny ! unsuf- ferahle brutality ! I In the ensuing spring, the same unfortunate individual made another attempt at desertion. He left his post while on guard, in company with a young man named Dackenhousen, a German, who was the pride of the regiment ; but they failed in making their escape, on ac- count of the treachery of an individual in whose i ' > •; i; .1 ■1 '?• ■ ,!M '.i 96 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. M barn they had taken refuge. The individual in question having discovered their hiding place, promised secrecy, but cruelly gave information to the officers, who rewarded his treachery with thirty dollars. A guard was accordingly sent for their apprehension, who soon returned with their victims. Arnold was chained to a heavy baU, and confined^ and his case laid before His Majesty at home, who sentenced him to trans- portation for life. Dackenhousen was confined in order to await his trial for desertion, but fearful of the punishment that awaited him, one night, while the guard were all asleep, except the sentinels, he arose, passed the first sentinel, threw open the guard room door, rushed out into the barracks yard, passed another sentinel at the gate, and escaped. Thus he passed two soldiers, who were at their posts with drawn swords, and opened two gates, before the alarm could be given. The young soldier at the door of the guard house, afterwards stated, that al- though he was perfectly aware of the case, yet he felt as if, at the moment, he was deprived of all power to speak or act. When the morning arrived a number of detachments were sent in pursuit, with loaded rijlesy and orders to take him dead or alive. Atler several days search, they returned without their prey, who escap- ed safely to the United States, from whence he wrote back to his comrades, inviting them all to follov/ him, and had it not been for the fear of detection, I verily believe the whole regi- >ment would have accepted the invitation. i ,, t lual ace, ition with sent with eavy His rans- fined , but I, one xcept tinel, d out ntinel sdtwo irawn alarm door at al- e, yet ed of LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 97 For my own part, I heartily wished myself r from so slavish a life, though I could not i- once resolve upon my liberation, the scenes of punishment, of which I had been witness, were vividly impressed upon my imagination, and I would have preferred death to enduring it. Sometimes I strove to resign myself pa- tiently to my fate ; but the reflection that my woes would terminate only with my life, pre- vented such a feelinor of resiornation : and what tended to increase my dissatisfaction, was the fact that the regiment I belonged to, was for some cause or other, a transported corps. The thought that I was incorporated with a con- demned regiment, stung me to the quick, espe- cially as I saw no prospect of again seeing my dear parents, so long as the corps remained un- der the displeasure of His Majesty ; and should the aspect of things change for the better, I knew my life, at best, would be miserable. To add to my uneasiness, I obtained no com- munications from home, although I wrote again and again ; this led to the conclusion, that my parents indignant at my past disobedience, had resolved to leave me to my fate,and never again manifest any concern for my welfare. My mental conflicts, from these united causes, be- came almost insupportable ; which, together with my insufferable hardships, almost drove me into the vortex of dissipation, which the insid- ious tempter of man, secretly intimated, would aflbrd me relief, or at least a mitigation of my sorrows. But, by the blessing of God I waa «'m;! 'X% ■If ' ;*l!l 98 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. fi. " i I ij saved from this horrible course, and my mind directed to the great author of all, for support and succor, and oflen have I in the darkness of night, knelt in my bed, and poured out my com- plaint to the Lord of creation. But I was, as it were, a heathen, knowing little else of divine things but the form. To divert my mind as much as possible, I de- voted my leisure time to literary pursuits, at- tending school part of that time, and studying draioing and music Xhe rest. In these pursuits I was assisted by my comrade, Henry Apple, u German, in the middle age of life, and of no ordinary talents. His regard for me was strong and ardent ; his advice that of a father ; indeed he delighted to speak of me as his son. To him, I related my parentage, travels, &.C., upon which he counselled me to desert the first op- portimity, alledging that if I remained ^in the army, I could expect nothing but misery and poverty all my days ; indeed, we should have deserted together, had it not been that the time for which he enlisted was nearly expired. But notwithstanding his advice, I endured my troubles some time longer, hoping to be able to purchase my discharge. To obtain it by money, required twenty pounds sterlings while my pay amounted to hut one shilling and one pence per day, out of which I had to pur- chase several articles of wearing apparel, as also of consumption. To further my design, I gave up my allowance of grogy prefering to receive its value in money. But with all my LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON. 99 efforts I could save but six shillings per month, at which rate, it would have taken six years, nearly, to accomplish my aim. But I soon found that such a strict course of living would debar me of the means of attending to my lit- erary pursuits,and to spare a pittance for them,I saw that it would require eleven or twelve years to put me in possession of the required sum, as also that it was involved with events the most difficult to be surmounted, and accordingly, I laid aside my plan as impracticable. My next aim was to procure admission into the band of musicians, thinking that my situa- tion would be more comfortable. I according- ly persevered in my musical studies, hoping to attract the attention of the officers, when I was sent for by Capt. Pierce, an officer of the com- pany, to act as his servant, a situation which seemed to promise an amelioration of my troub- les. But I soon found, that let me be placed where I would, I had to load a contemptible and miserable soldier's life. My situation was rendered very unpleasant on account of many very arduous tasks assigned me ; as also from being broke of my rest ; for I had generally to await the return of my master from his mid- night revels, vvho would in turn have much com- pany, and that painfully disgusting, for they would gamble and carouse like bedlamifes, as if totally regardless of a state of future retribu- tion. Tjio Captain possessed a taste that led him to sprTre no pains nor expense to obtain any pleasure ho delighted in. He required a strict t'l j i U^! f'Af 100 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. I! i! ill I'! ) I i IV ii!l;iMi attention to be paid to all his injunctions, which I obeyed with promptitude and despatch, in ev- ery respect, if I except that I made but an in- different cook. However, as he messed in com- mon with the other officers, I had but little to do in this respect but to prepare his breakfast reg- ularly, and occasionally, supper for his guests. One day he gave me directions for cooking a beefs tongue, which was to answer for his breakfast the next morning. I accordingly fol- lowed his orders, but unluckily, after it was put into the oven, from some cause or other, I forgot it until the next morning, when, painful to relate, it was baked almost to a cinder, on account of the large fire kept in the stove dur- ing the night. Afraid of exciting his anger by not placing it upon the table, I cut off all the burnt part, until it was so diminished in size that I felt ashamed to behold it. However, with much fear and anxiety, I placed it on the table, and then retired to wait the motions of its astonished and disappointed consumer, who eyed it with apparent solicitude, as if to dis- cover the nature of the unshapely dish I had placed before him. He then applied to me for an account of the article, &.nd such were my fears, that I gave but a disconnected and unsat- isfactory detail of my act of harsh, cooking j seeing my confusion, and the sorrow it occa- sioned, he passed it over with a gentle repri- mand. On another occasion, I met with a misfortune somewhat similar. We expected a large com- LIFE OF VV. B. MGIITON. 101 vhich m ev- il in- com- to do t reg- uest&. ing a )r his ]y fol- t was ;her, I >ainful ler, on e dur- gcr by all the n size wever, jn the ons of r, who dis- 1 had me for re my unsat- ohing V occa- repri- fortune com- pany of guests to supper, for whose entertain- ment the messmaster prepared a sumptuous re- past. The hour arrived, when my helpmate and I spread the rich bounties provided for the occasion ; among numy other things was two richly dressed fowls, which served greatly to or- nament the table. We happened to be both ab- sent for a moment, and upon returning, discov- ered that one of the fowls was missing. We were much surprised, and gazed on each other with much concern, wondering by whom, and how in so short a time it could have been re- moved. Upon clos e examination it appeared to hav6 been dragged off the table, and upon looking under the stove, we found it in posses- sion of a huge caty who was very deliberately making a supper of the mutilated fowl, which we soon rescued from her paws, and in no very gentle manner, bade her finish her supper else- where. Fearing to throw it away, and thus incur censure, and perhaps punishment, we were driven to the alternative of cleaning and placing it on the table, in the best manner pos- sible, taking care to press well together every part that was injured. Fortunately for us they were not touched, and thus the affair passed off undiscovered. I do not state these facts as if in themselves they are worthy of notice, but merely to illustrate the effects produced by harsh, despotic treatment, and that slavish fear which is its legitimate result ] a fear which is evidence direct of the depraved condition of man, for were he upwright, it neither would be 10 :.! ;r ii 102 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. -iM ■M I I : ' exacted or yielded. Wherever it exists it cramps the energies, paralyzes the powers of the soul, and blasts the principles of peace and liberty ; and yet, strange infatuation ! men of- ten mistake it, I mean when applied to their Creator,for that filial fear required by Him from His creatures, and imagine that dread, horror, and trembling at the thought of his sacred name, constitutes the duty ot man. How can these things be ^ How can we love that which we imagine militates against our joys, and threatens to crush us to dust ? Can such be the duty inculcated in the inspired writings ? Let the reader consult on this point, Heb. xii. 28, Eccl. xii. 13, Prov. iii. 7, and viii. xiii,and ix. 10, Ps. cxi. 10, Cor. vii. 1, &c. &c. Circumstances like the above, tended to keep my mind in a continued state of unhappy ex- citement and slavish fear ; and although I la- bored with the utmost diligence to obey the commands of my master, their rigidity were by no means relaxed, nor his aristocratic haughti- ness diminished. Added to this, I received no compensation for my services besides my pay and rations as a soldier, which I received from the barracks, so that my present situation was in reality no way superior to the former. In my present condition, I saw little probability of escaping from their cruel bondage, and re- flecting upon my past delightful enjoyments^ and anxious to get free from the slavery of tyr- annical oppres3ors,that I might again enjoy the endearing comforts of a social and peaceful :M' i. U LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. 103 life, and become useful to myself and friendu, I could no longer resist the impetuous force of my feelings -, but resolved forthwith to make my escape. The season of the year, (it was the month of February) and the vast amount of travel to the United States, conspired to raise my hopes,and cheer me with the prospect of obtaining a con- veyance by some one of the numerous car- riages engaged in the pursuits of commerce. Upon after consideration, however, I judged it best not to trust my fate in the hands of any man, especially as it required a generosity not likely to be found among those persons to whom I allude. About this time my comrade, Henry Apple, received his discharge ; which fact but increas- ed my disaffection, inflamed my desires, and produced a stronger resolution to attempt my escape as soon as possible. Before I proceed to relate the means I resorted to, I will just observe, that while nothing could justify me in their adoption, an excuse can be found in my youthy inexperience^ and misery ; for I feel con- fident, that had not my sufferings been extreme, P never should have been persuaded to adopt a course so criminal. But, to proceed : my plan was to provide myself with the dress of a civill ian from the Captain^s wardrobe, and with a horse belonging to a Lieut. Colonel Rumpley, who resided under the same roof with the Cap- tain ; and whose horse was the only one I could have access to, "bf the two officers, and m .■ iiS 104 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. >' "i\\ ^?( I which I intended, should I effect my escape, to leave at some convenient place near the Amer- ican line, and inform the Colonel by letter, where he might find him.^ In taking this course., which in fact was. the only one I could in safety adopt, I was in pressing need of mo»ey ito de- fray my expenses ; and not being able to de- mand any of my pay in consequence of being obliged to buy several articles of winter cloth- ing, by which I was deeply involved in debt, and fearing my entire destitution would expose me to the suspicion of those men among whom I travelled, I resolved to purloin a sum from one of the officers sufficient to meet the wants my peculiar situation demanded. I intended also to arm myself with a loaded pistol, being * The example of many «f my fellow soldiers who had adup« •ted similar measures to eucct titeir liberty, and who had escaii- cd detection, was a powerful slimulous to mge me on to my un- dertaking ; and, indeed, I may say it was throngh the Fuccess of their attempts, that I received encouragement, and was led 4o do as I did. One circumstance I will here mention. Two of my comrades, who were great intimates togetltnr, and wIk> were both officers* servants, T)eca:ne so dii^sati^sOed with a sol- dier's life that they resolved to make their escape in company with each other, when the first opportunity slunild present. When the night came tliat gave them the (!eting upon the full speed, I passed in front of the barracks by the guard, the sentinels of which were on their posts, and in a few moments, led my master and the troops, far in the rear. Soon, howi" - r, I began to jfeel the effects of the cold ; even before I had crossed the St. Lawrence, which distance was about nine miles on the ice, I thought I should have perished ; my dress be- ing altogether unfit for my circumstances, being composed of a pair of woolen regimental pan- taloons, woolen vest, a light fustian jacket, hat, and a light pair of calfskin shoes. My suffer- ings increased beyond description ; I became chilled almost to death, and those parts of my body most exposed, became frozen and stiff in spite of all my exertions. Sometimes I would * Notwitliatanding I haviihout the least hesitancy, I resolved to tt" my .;tk:;.j'i (brthwitn, jier- chimce I mi'^ht succeed in i^uiniii;,' my liberty from a life of such insiiflffrublf Jviannv ! 5 * 5 • ■ ll I Itii. i I LIFE OF W. B- 1.IGIITON. 107 put my hands (for I had no mittens) between the saddle and the horse^s back, and my feet close to his sides ; at other times I took to my ieet and run ; but all was in vain. I actuaUy "thought I should freeze to death : my hands, feet, and ears were past all feeling, and not- withstanding I thrashed and rubbed the affect- ed parts, they still grew worse, and wo^se, and glad indeed, should i have been to have taken shelter for the night ; but so great was my fear .of detection, that I daued not hazard myself by requesting hospitality. At length 1 lost my way, and coming to a house, through the win- dow of which I discovered a brisk tire, which to me, was a sight peculiarly grateful, I stop- ped my horse, to consult with myself, with re- gard to the propriety of going in to warm me, and secure some Itind of an outer garment, as I was entirely destitute ; at the same time, I eyed sharply the inside of the cottage, through the window, as I stood close to it, to see if all was peaceful and quiet, which I foimd to be so; upon which, I saluted it with a loud halloo ^ at tfie same time putting my horse in a position ready for a gallop, should I see any cause for ex- citement; vvhen,ol)serving two men approacn the door, dressed in their daily habit, and to all ap- pearance, armed with muskets, my fears becamef alarmed, and without delaying one moment, I rode off immediately upon the full speed.* * f remark that uiy fears were not cxcitpd from any thoughts of pursuer j», but lh« f«ct tliut llie men might lie some of those unfeeling characters, who were conft;int!y mxjn the Ijokout for -dt'serters. til ii ' U nt •tjl' ( I 108 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. U: \fl I was now iill«d with excitement, and fear, in consei^uence of which, I rode my horse hard, until with fatigue and ^sting, (for he had noth- ing to eat all night) he became so jaded that it was with much difficulty I could force him out of a walk. At length day-light appeared and ended the most painful night I ever experien- ced, before or since. Meeting with an individ- ual, I interrogated him as to the place in which we were ; when he informed me I was forty miles from Montreal, and about an equal dis- tance from the bonders of the United States. The assurance that I was so far from the Regi- ment, and in a bye-way too, encouraged me to inquire for refreshment, for I felt in much need of it : and indeed, had I not submitted to put up some where, I verily believe, before many hours, I should have perished on the road. Accordingly I rode up to a tavern, delivered my horse to the ostler, ordering him to take the best possible care of him, and retired to the house, though with much difficulty, on account of the stiffness of my limbs, and the numbness of all my physical powers. Seating myself by the fire, I fell into a sound sleep, from which I was awakened by the intense pain of which I became the subject, as my frozen extremities were operated upon by the fire. Upon remov- ing my shoes, my feet presented a piteous ap- pearance, being almost entirely covered with blisters, so that I could not place them upon the ground without screaming. The family now began to gather round me^ LIFE OF W. B. UGHTON. 109 1 remov- not to administer to my necessities, but merely to gratify an ignoble curiosity, I say ignoble, because it had no other end than to rid them- selves of a troublesome burden, as they feared, from my appearance, I might become. They began by expressing their surprise at my unseasonable dress, and that I should travel in the night, and so far, as from my appearance they judged I had. To this, I answered in the best way possible to prevent suspicion, but in vain ; the landlord doubted my veracity, and sent for a number of gentlemen belonging to the neighborhood, who on their arrival, exam- ined me very closely. By this time, my pain had so increased that I became almost insensi- ble ; so much so, that my answers became con- fused, and upon being asked by one of them from whence I came, I thoughtlessly replied, from Montreal : whereupon they began to sus- pect me to be a deserter. Upon this, I effect- ually roused myself from my stupor, and plead my case so ably that the suspicions of most of them were lulled, and they retired, expressing their satisfaction at my story, and their belief of my innocence. But the avaricious and un- feeling landlord was still dissatisfied, and asked me if I was willing to go back with him so far as St. John's, to see if there was any inquiry, or stir about me. To prevent any further sus- picion in his mind, I told him I was perfectly willing, (though to the contrary, J was very tm- Vfilling, but 1 did so that he might think t was innocent) provided he would bring rae back af- *: hm 1! : I . ; ■! 'i j: lli !^ ^ III 1 i I I i 110 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. ter being satisfied with my innocence. He* f>romised he would, though 1 felt that there was ittle hope of my avoiding detection , as a com- pany belonging to my regiment were stationed at that place, and would immediately, on seeing, me, recognize me as one of the regiment. Reader, can you conceive my feelings ? To do it you must place yourself in my situation. Suppose yourself a stranger, poor and destitute,, your limbs all sore and blistered, a deserter from the army, in the hands of cruel, hard^ hearted men, about to take you back to place you in the hands of those who have no mercy upon their victims, and exposed to the cruel- punishment of whipping, a punishment worse than death : and perhaps you can form some idea of my feelings. Before I proceed farther, I will just stop to uncover the heart of the landlord, and show the principle lurking there, which induced him to betray me. He believed me to be a desert- er, and knew that could he prove the fact, and lodge me in the hands of the regiment, he should receive thirty dollars, as a reward of his cruelty, for my apprehension. For this sum* was he willing to expose me to the most igno* minious of all punishments. What will not some men do for the sake of money ? With some the value of human life is insignificant com- pared with it. " O how deceitful, how deeply damning is the love of money ! Well might the heathen exclaim, while contemplating the grave of one who was murdered for his wealth. LIFE OF W. B. IJCHTOIV. Ill lere was } a com- itationcd n seeing, egiment. ? To do situation, iestitute,' deserter el, hardi- to place 10 mercy the cruel tnt worse arm some st stop to md show uced him a desert- act, and^ ment, he ard of his this sum^ lost igno*- will not Vith some ant com- Dw deeply ell might lating the ds wealth. O ! cursed lust of gold I what wilt thou not in- duce the human heart to perpetrate ? " Judas is deservedly considered as one of the most in- famous of men, his conduct base beyond de- scription, and his motives vile. But alas ! how many who censure his act, imitate him in their lives ! How many sell their souls for a less sum ! Ho ye Judas', read your doom ! learn your danger when you hear the Apostle telling' you from God that " no unrighteous man, nor covetous, shall enter into the kingdom of God !" From so great a curse may God save every money-lovingj honor-huntings pleasure-taking , thoughtless, godless man ! But to proceed with my narrative : after par- taking of some refreshment, the landlord pro- ceeded to convey me to St. Johns, at which place we arrived about two o'clock P. M. and was conducted to an inn, where I was put un- der the safe-keeping of the landlord, at that place, until inquiry was made respecting me. But I had not been there long before informa- tion was obtained that I was a deserter, and that despatches to different parts of the country were in pursuit of me. This news highly grat- ified my captor, who very speedily communi- cated tife fact of my detention to the officers of the company, stationed there, who immediately sent a file of soldiers to conduct me to the guard-house, where I was placed under close confinement. The soldiers exhibited much kindness towards me, which kindness was pe- culiarlv seasonable, as 1 was in such a situa- U '■i it ; \. !il (iii 112 LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON. ■I : il mil I ) tion, by reason of being frozen, that I was not able to feed myself without assistance. The Lieutenant, who was commander of the com- pany, visited me during this season of wretch- edness ; his aspect was mild, his language kind and savoring of pity ; upon retiring, he sent me a portion of food from his own table, which supply came very opportunely for the relief of my crying wants. In short, the treatnaent I experienced exceeded all my expectations, and I thought with such officers, even a soldier's life might be tolerable, and that my case wouki not be so bad, had I such men to pass sentence upon me for the crime I had so unfortunately committed. As it was, my case was to be pla- ced in the hands of men of hard-hearts, and tyrannic principles; men who regarded no pun- ishment too severe for those who had violated their lordly commands. At night the soldiers spread their great coats for me upon the floor, and the before-mentioned officer, sent me some articles of covering, with which I strove to compose my weary body, while my no less wearied mind was torn on the fearful rack of gloomy expectation. ■ Tliuf Brooding o*er soitow'sj fount, silent I gazed upon the gloomy past : Till worn with watching, I sougbt^the aid Of gentle sleep. I slept, and felt 'refreshed. The morning's dawn witnessed 'preparations for my conveyance back to Montreal, and after partaking of some bread and tea, which consti- tuted my breakfast, orders were sent me to pre- ! I LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 113 pare myself for my journey . Having wrapped some rags round my feet and drawn on some old stocking legs, which served as shoes, and obtained the loan of a soldier's great coat, I stood ready, with my shoes in my hand. About eight o'clock, I was marched to the stage house, between a file of guard, armed with drawn swords, which walk, although only a few rods, occasioned me a great deal of pain, as my feet were so extremely sore. The guard, and myself were soon seated in the stage, when we proceeded to Montreal ; the journey of which, was attended with the most exquisite pain, in consequence of the cold striking to all my frozen parts. My feelings were indeed not less painful as we approached the place of our destination, from the fact that it was to be the scene of my punishment, and which was in ef- fect no better than barbarism, or the bloody inquisition. Arriving at Montreal, and being anable to walk, they placed me upon a lumber sled to convey me from the place where we left the stage to the barracks, about a mile in dis- tance. At the barracks gate one of my peculiar friends stood sentinel, who appeared as if thun- derstruck at witnessing my situation ; he dared not speak, but exhibited his emotion by turning ghastly pale. At length I was placed in the guard-room, as a prisoner, under strong guard, where I was soon visited by the adjutant, who expressed his surprise at finding me a prisoner. He informed me my guilt was of no ordinary kind ; that it was unpardonable ; that standing '^%A 114 LirE OF W. B. LIGHTON. u 'I . " 'I 'I |.'l S I i charged with desertion and steiding, it was highly probable death would be my punishment. My case was soon reported to the command- ing officer, (Colonel Andrews) who made out my commitment, and sent orders for my con- veyance to the main guard, whither I was marched, hand-cu(fed, guarded by a strong detachment, with drawn swords, and surroun- ded by many of my anxious comrades, whom curiosity or sympathy had drawn together to witness my removal. These circumstan- ces increased my fears, as I knew that none but the worst of characters were consigned to this wretched place : it therefore appeared to me as my death warrant. My new habitation was again fhe scene of increased wretchedness : here with my limbs all sore, without a friend, without a fire, with- out hope, I was lefl in dreary solitude to await my trial. Hard indeed was my lot ! miserable my situation ! How often did I sigh over my past folly, while restless, I ti'rned over my chaf- ed and frozen limbs to seek momentary respite from my cruel sufferings, on the hard floor of my prison, for bed I had none. Providence, however, raised up a friend, by whose intercession my troubles were in a meas- ure mitigated : that friend was Lady Fitzgerald, who, hearing of my situation, procured the re- moval of my handcuflTs, and permission for me to sleep in the guard room, as also to warm myself occasionally at the fire, during the day. The Docter also paid me a visit, and after ex- it was hment. imand- ide out ly con- I was strong Lirroun- , whom ogether umstan- lat none gned to jared to icene of ly limbs re, with- to await liserable 3ver my Ly chaf- respite floor of LIFE OF W. B. LIGllTON. 115 amining my wounds, lefl me and sent his ser- vant to dress them, from whose miserable and bungling performance, I experienced the most acute suffering with but little advanta^ How- ever I was obliged to endure his operations, though he treated me more like a brute than a man. I was next visited by Captain Pierce, my of- fended ma8ter,whose very countenance bespoke an angry so«l. He saluted me with the most impious threats, and uttered such awful impre- cations, that had they been brought upon me would have placed me in the lowest abyss of hell but I pleased myself with the thought that they were but noisy breath. He said he had not the least pity for me, and that no mercy should be shown me, and with a tremendous oath declared I should suffer deathy that my suffering might operate as a warning to others. He observed farther that had he overtaken me on the night of my desertion, he would have shot me dead upon the spot. O, what may not such tyrannic monsters expect when God comes to judgment ! Proud tyrantt tremble ! for a weight of woe Hangfl in hUick columns of tremcMidotii; ire 0*er your devoted souls. Black, black with dismal wrath It spreads its murky gloom arunid your heads Soon,£oon to burst. Then hoirible confusion ! DiwiHy unutterable ! keen anguish, and vengeance Such as beings infinite indict Shall fill your reeking hearts ! The [lierclui^ cric» Of beingts iiumolateii by your lordly hands t^hall howl conftision in your fris^htud ears; And chain yuur cioulii in evcil ;i y» 'hi?!' V: '<(• i:' ;v i ' ■;i 116 LIFE OF VV. D. LIGIITON'. ' i, •} ] It is a cheering thought that the designs of Inen are oflen happily prevented by the inter- position of Divine Providence, and that its overruling arm is ever stretched forth for the accomplishment of its own designs of forbear- ance towards guilty man : it was so in my case. Had the servant gone immediately to the guard room, at the barracks and alarmed the guard, in all probability they would have discovered my route and perhaps have shot me dead upon the spot, as I understood the captain and his soldiers pursued me with rifles and pistols. But as it was, he first went and inforiiied the officers at the ball room, so that a sufficient time elapsed for me to escape their pursuit, and thus my life was prolonged, and t\me given me for repentance. Thus I have abundant reason to thank and adore the divine goodness for the mercy which spared me through this critical event ! Having remained for some days imprisoned in the main guard, und( r the most intense suf- fering of body and mind, I was informed of their intention to commit me to the city prison. Nor did I wait long before a non-commissioned officer with two men of my company visited me, brought me my clothes, &c. and said it was their orders to conduct me to the civil pris- on . Inasmuch as the military law took no cog- nizance of my act of taking the horse, I was m consequence thereof delivered over for civil process, which, after suffering the penalty of my crime, should the punishment not be death j I y I igns of 5 inter - hat its for tho arbear- ly case. 3 guard guard, sovered id upon and his pistols. !ed tho ifficient uit, and iven me : reason for the critical )risoned ise suf- med of prison, issioned visited said it ivil pris- . no cog- i, I was for civil aalty of deaihy I •' t .;'!■' -I! I. 1 M'i li LIFE OF W. D. LIGIITON. 117 2 -4 ■a a. i was then rccogniautblo for the act of dosortion. This change in my situation filled me for a mo- ment with sensations of a pleasing nature, which however, were soon dumped by the con- sideration that my crime, according to British law, was punishable with death. JNot withstand- ing my prospect was dnrk and dreary before me, I rejoiced that I hud escaped the i^nomy of a public whipping, which to mc would have been worse than death, had I only been prepar- ed. This circumstance was to me a most pe- culiarly trying one, when my fortitude and eve- ry feeling of my agitated soul was put to its trial as I was ushered into the cold damp prison of Montreal. The harsh grating of the iron doors, the massive bolts and bars by which they were secured, and above all, the gloomy dun- geon in which I was placed, sunk my spirits in- to the depths of despondency and grief. Ad- ded to this, I was placed in a room in company with some of the vilest miscreants in creation. Men who seemed by a long continuance in crime to have lost their humanity ; and to have imbibed the spirit of Satan himself. Here I endured hunger and want without mitigation, or relief, until my hitherto robust frame began to yield to these accumulated inconveniences, and threatened me with early dissolution. As it was, it produced a weakness that has taken years for me to recover from. In this situation I made an appeal to the liberality of the regi- ment, to which I belonged ; they immediately began a subscription for my relief, but the cap- t ! t(< M f '•! >t 'i '■ *lfll»>. ' i i' ■, i ?li I •; i^ ' ■ nMm\ ^ •■?'/■'? jiff] SI ■! 1^ 1 't: ' ')k ■ !P. >' !)! !■ i If > 1 118 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. tain hearing of their intention, strictly forbade them from sending me a single copper. Thus did the hard-hearted Captain prove that he was sincere when he said he would " show me no mercy at all." Again did an ever watchful Providence pro- vide me a friend in my extremity, in the person of a Mr. Weidenbecker, with whom I was ac- quainted during my abode with Capt. Pierce. This gentleman had formed a favorable opinion of my character, and had conceived a feeling of ♦he strongest attachment towards me: he discov- ered the true reason of my former imprudence, and while he was willing to blame the crime, he saw that the offender was more deserving of pity than censure. From him I occasional- ly received a supply of food and through him the sympathy of others was excited in my be- half, but notwithstanding these kind helps, I still had much to endure, and much to suffer. Mr. W. also assured me he would procure ev- ery possible assistance at my trial, which was expected t'^ come on in the spring ; he promis- ed to give his testimony to my moral character, &c. Such tokens of friendship as this, were peculiarly adapted to comfort me in my unfor- tunate and lonely situation. I now began to recover from my lameness, and to apply myself to reading and study, es- pecially to music; the latter study, however, was forbidden me by the goaler, to whom it was disagreeable, but being a pious man, he kindly provided me with religious books, to SI mi LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. 119 which I applied myself with persevering dili- gence, and through which circumstance I ob- tained a taste for reading and study, which has remained by me to the present time, and which I have found to be especially advantageous. But while my studious habits gave no small satisfaction to the goaler, it gave rise to an un- pleasant excitement among my fellow prisoners, who constantly treated me so rudely, that I was induced to petition for a removal to some other place of confinement ; which petition was crowned with success, and I was removed to a pleasant room in the front part of the prison, from whence I had a full view of the market place^ &c. As the time of my trial approached I became extremely impatient ; my mind was continually on the rack of suspense in regard to my ap- proaching fate. My accusers however ; did not come forward, and my case in consequence, was deferred to the next court which did not sit under six months. Ihus I was left through that period, a prey to anxiety and trouble of mind, as well as of bodily suffering ; which to- gether, considerably impaired my health. Dur- ing that time my regiment was removed to Kingston, Upper Canada, and by its removal, begat the hope that my accusers would neglect to appear against me at the next session, and that consequently, I should be kept until its third sitting, and then, from absence of witnes- ses, should be liberated according to law. Foolish thought ! the officers only nc^glected to ^^^&,- fi: J: f>\hi i I I i lit ■ ; • filijti i 120 LIFE OF W. B. LTGilTON. '[i! ;•! i *■ ; appear at the first court, in order to prok>ng my imprisonment, and increase my suspense ' Previous to the approach of the next court^ I addressed myself to a noted Counsellor in the city, who visited me, and promised to become- my advocate ; I also prepared an address to the court, soliciting mercy and compassion. Whei* the court commenced its session, I was inform'- ed of the arrival of Col. R. and Capt. F. to at- tend my trial. At length, escorted by a strong guard of Constables, I was placed at the bar j, the solemnity of the scene — the importance of my case — and the presence of my accusers^ overwhelmed me with confusion, and I almost fell to the earth. My trial however, did not proceed that day ; I was simply asked whether guilty or not guilty } to which I replied^ "JVof >:.. ii il. 'I I -'^' jit m I >i\ 'J -i ■ i , 1 1' If? ill H '■ >i v III I 124 LIFE OF W. D. LIGllTON. M The prisonci'*s d(;ii, it li;r|iig with hope . And iiiaketf hie) gloomy houI look tip ! And diodgh he nmy with woe contend, He fiiida u tieiieuru in his friend. Friendship on earth ! 'tis notiler far, Than all die riches of a Cxar ! A friend whose love throngh woe will hold. His worth can ne*er be told in GOLD ! Wl i! Perhaps the reader would be pleased to learn something of the character and feelings of my fellow prisoners, while under condemnation, and in expectation of speedy death. Of our number, seven were Catholics, natives of Can- ada, except one, who was a South American., these were profane and disgusting in their con- versation and manners, at first, a very natural consequence of the destructive faith they pro- fessed. If they sinned, they found a salvo for a guilty conscience in confess on to the priest, who, poor man, affected to forgive them offen- ces, committed against a holy and infinite God. The other was a protestant, a mulatto from the United States, whose demeanor was more se- rious, and proper. We were visited daily, by Roman Catholic priests, to whom their adhe- rents paid no small share of reverence and at- tention. We were also visited by a Clergyman of the establishment, who labored incessantly to instruct us in the wisdom of the Gospel, and to impress our minds with the importance of obe- dience to its precepts. Such, however, was our state, that we understood but little of the vitality of religion, or of its operation upon the LIFE OF v.. 15. i,[(;iiro»\. 125 merican 5 more se- hcart. For uiy own jart, although I had re- ceived some knowledgo of God in my early life, yet I \v ' supposed ig- norance of these glorious truths. This discov- ery induced tl*e Clergyman to spare no efforts, time, or ^ins, to pour instruction into our dark and beflighted minds. lie seriously exhorted us to attend to the salvation of our souls, point- ing out the way in the simplest and most affec- tionate manner, and then joining in prayer, he would commit us to God, and leave us to our reflections. I became deeply serious, reflected much up- on my past folly, and thought that then was the best time to seek religion, and the salvation of my soul ; but alas ! I went no further, though his labors were not in vain, inasmuch as they laid the foundation of my subsequent conver- sion. The effects of his viatts, however, were glorious in regard to the mulatto; for he became deeply convicted, and began to call upon Qod through Jesus Christ, and soon found salvation through his most precious blood. He remained, during the rest of his life a most devoted and holy Christian, the work of grace upo*i his heart, was evident to every observer. While in this confinement, I received the ^ I, I' ■«^- 126 LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON. : following epistle from Mr. Apple, my former comrade, who hnd obtained his discharge. Lapraricy Oct. — , 1823. My Dear Friend — Vour unfortunate situa- tion is a subject of the deepest concern to me. Nothing ever gave me more exquisite pain than the news of your being sentenced to death. But the fact that the jury plead for your life, upon the day of trial, is a subject the most in- teresting and cheering that I can conceive of; and I have no reason to doubt but that you will be pardoned. Indeed, I am impatiently wait- ing to hear the result of your case. Believe me, comrade, 1 feel for you as I should for a son, and would as soon fly to your relief. Let me advise you to endure your sufferings pa- tiently. Don't be dispirited, but submit your case to the all-wise disposer of human events, who alone is able to sustain the afllicted, and make way for their escape. And, although your situation is apparently the most dismal that could well be imagined, yet, let me cheer your gloomy mind with the fond assurance that you may safely hope soon to receive pardon ; for the circumstance I have mentioned, is proof that you cannot — will not suffer. Let my sym- pathy, together with the little sum I send en- closed, cheer you, till you are more happily relieved. Did not the distance, and the pres- sure of business prevent, I should visit you You will therefore, kindly excuse me, and be- lieve me to be your sincere friend. HENRY APPLE. LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. 127 This letter came to hand very opportunely, and had a happy efTt^ct upon my mind. My heart had begun to sink, at the sight of the misery and wretchedness the prisoners now be- gan to evince, as the day of execution ap- proached. Their solemn and intense prepara- rations to meet their fates ; the perfect security under which we were con^ned ; but above all, their deep groans in the night season, as they awoke from their terriflic dreams, were causes powerful enough to disturb the peace of one iti the possession of liberty and prosperity ; much more, of one who was by no means certain that he would not die a culprit's death. At length the gaoler visited our apartment, bringing* me the cheering intelligence that the Governor had sent my reprieve, and told me I should be taken out of my irons the next day, and conveyed to another room. This intelligence made me re- joice beyond degree, and notwithstanding my irons, I paced the room with exultation, and felt as if J were light as a feather ; nor did I envy the king on his throne. I was not permitted to pass the night in the dismal cell with the poor culprits, but was removed to one adjoining, whence I heard no more their dismal cries and groanings. I slept but little through the night for joy, and in the morning my irons were taken off, and I lefl my dreary dungeon, and took possession of my old apartment opposite the public street. My extacy of joy that I now felt was beyond language to describe. I felt relieved, yea, I almost felt as if I was libera- li 'H, I I 128 LIFE OF W. a. LHJIITOJ*. ' ,.', ted, and returned to the endearing circles of social life. At this moment I feel sentiments of devotional gratitude arising to God for his goodness and mercy in delivering me from so horrible a fate ! And may God grant, that what the dear young reader has seen of the evil of . crime, may inHuence his conduct, that he may ever live and walk in the poth.of virtue, libei:ty| and h'jppines?. CHAPTER IV. From the time he wns reprieved, to his final escape from im- prisoument — in which ia manitost the providence and grace of God. My reprieve from death, and liberation from the room of the condemned, had a powerful effect upon their feelings ; each looked anx- iously and wishfully for the day when they should receive theirs also. But alas ! some of them looked in vain ; for jn a few days a death warrant arrived for two of my companions, one of whom was the mulatto, the other was one of the Canadians. The rest of the prisoners were now brought into the room with myself to await the future pleasure of the Governor, where we rejoiced together with as much glee as if wo had been entirely freed from all restraint. But while we were thus rejoicing in our deliverance, one of our number was in a moment snatched from his superabundant joy, and placed again in. a state of deepest sorrow j for the day aftej LIFE OP W. B. IJCillTOIV. 121) Itts reprieve, the gaoler cntcrod the room and informed him that his death warrant had arriv- ed, and that he mUst be conducted back to the condemned cell to awnit his execution with the other i^o. What a sudden change was this ! The poor fellow's countcrmncc fell ; he wrung his hands in agony, and gave vent to his feel- ings in piteous accents of deep despair. Eve- ry prisoner among us participated in his suffer- ings, and with many tears, bid" him frtrewell. He was then conducted back to his old abode, to join his ebnipanions in death. The night previous to their execution, we were allowed to- pay them a last visit. We found them all thiee chained and handcuffed, sitting on their iron' bedsteads, engaged in acts of devotion. They talked feelingly and freely about their views and prospects ; one of them observed he had been looking ont at his grated window, watch- ing the sun-, and said he, "//lavc seen him set' for the last timt, and before his ne^st setlinoj t shall be in eternittf.^^ He sard fwrther, "/ aw willing to suffer, for I hnve an evidence that my sins are all Jorgiveiny and that th'rough the merits' of Jesus Christ I shall be sarcrf." The mulatto was no less composed : his mind was calm and tranquil : he said but little except in answer to our questions. They exhorted us to take warning from their example; to seek religion; refrain from sin ; and live pious and virtuous lives ; after which, we took them each- by the hand, and with much difficulty pronounced the **good bye:" our ^ 1) 130 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. lii ils I. !; ■• )i hearts were so swolen with grief, that we could hardly command our feelings. Early the next morning the prison yards,and every adjacent spot were crowded with specta- tors, who came to witness the awful scene. At twelve o'clock the victims were brought from prison, and with tottering steps conveyed to the drop ; the ropes were carefully adjusted round their necks, and after the offering up of prayer to God by the clergy, commending their souls to his in^nite mercy, the drop fell ; they strug- gled a few moments, and then all was still as death ; they had gone to their reward. 1 viewed their death from a chink in the wall of my prison ; and never, till that moment, did I experience such cold, chilling, heart rending emotions ; and I pray God I may never again witness a similar scene. I cannot forbear just mentioning to my readers, the crimes for which these men suffered ; two of them had been ac- complices in breaking into a store ; and the other had stolen some live stock which was found in his possession, and recovered again. These were the crimes for which they were bung ; that their punishment was greater than their crimes is obvious ; and all I need say is, that it is time such laws were abrogated by ev- ery nation professing the christian religion. I am, however, happy to state that the laws of my beloved country are annually becoming more lenient and merciful, and that death is now only inflicted for higher and more dangerous crimes. UFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. 131 The awful feelings, incident to the solemni- ties we had witnessed, were soon worn off by a consideration of our own situation : as to our future lot we were entirely ignorant : we amu- sed ourselves with conjecturing what would be the result, when, after a few weeks, it was re- vealed to us in the fcllowing mysterious man- ner. In the dark hour of liiight as we were occu- pied in walking up and down our room in con- versation about our future destiny, we were suddenly alarmed with the rattling of chains and the approach of footsteps towards the door of our room ; we were amazed ; every man turned pale, some expectirsg nothing eise but to be brought once more under the fatal sent- ence from which we bad been reprieved, while others, more sanguine, thonght we were about to be taken across the St. Lawrence and com^ manded to leave the country. In the midst of our fears the door was opened ; a number of men entered, laden with irons, and without the least ceremony, riveted them fast upon our limbs. This done, we were ordered down the prison stairs, and conducted to the yard, where was a horse and cart in waiting, into which, with much diiJicuky, we clambered. We were then driven through the main street to the wharf, and put on board a steamboat which im- mediately started towards Quebec. The rea- son of this strange and mysterious move we could not conjecture ; but finally concluded we were about to be transported to Bermuda, or 13 i|j[iFil^ U! ]! ;'! m {' "i!! i-: I; i f nil 1^ 132 LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON. some other foreign place, until the gaoler, who was one of our attendants, informed us we were all sentenced to five years hard labor in Que- bec jail. The boat made a stop at Three Rivers, and took in another prisoner, who was under the same sentence as ourselves, and after forty- eight hours sail, arrived at Quebec. The gaoler, under whose care we were now to be placed, soon came on board, and having ascer> tained our numbers, &c. left us, and speedily re- turned with a horse cart, in which we were ta- ken to the prison ; the sight of which, was enough to fill the mind with the most gloomy apprehensions. Passing through the main en- try, which was closely guarded by iron gates and huge wooden doors, we were conducted up a flight of stairs, through a dismal passage, to a room in the north part of the prison, designated "the work-house," where we were received by several companions in distress and confinement, whose looks and language bespoke our sym- pathy. We had not been here long before we were visited by the turnkey, accompanied with a blacksmith, who, to our no small satisfaction, relieved us of our ^ irons, which already had produced on some of us swolen legs and sore hands. Our apartment was one of the pleas- antest in the prison, as it afforded us a view of the street, and of the soldiers barracks, and tendod very much to relieve the otherwise lonliness of our situation. But the gaoler, fear- LIFE OF W. B. LIGUTON. 133 ing we should attempt our escape, soon lemov- ed us to a more solitary and secure situation, where we could only see the sentinel as he paced up and down on his post in the back yard of the prison. One advantage we enjoyed here was, that visters were admitted every day to see those prisoners, who, for petty offences, were confin- ed for a few months ; by means of these we were enabled to send out for almost any article we were able to purchase, so that our situation upon the whole was preferable to what it was at Montreal, labor excepted. On the Sabbath, divine worship was performed in one of the apartments in the prison, of which privilege I availed myself every Sunday without an excep- tion. The reader has already understood that we were doomed to spend our term of imprisonment in hard labor ; to effect this, we were placed upon a tread wheel, which was used to break stones for the public highway. The wheel was very large and admitted a number of prisoners upon it at the same time. It was set in motion by the weight of the prisoners, who were then obliged to keep a regular step, or run the risk of breaking their legs. Fortunately for us, the concern did not meet the expectation of the projector, and was soon laid aside, to our great joy and satisfaction. The failure of this project by no mean9 prevented us from being kept ac- tively employed ; for we were then required to pick thirty pounds of oakum a man per week, which was no easy or trifling task. % I hi Mr 'I is, ' M;'i r w. I'll- w i:|? ! , " It Ill il li 134 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. ^iliih, 't iW r-\ ' t ■j! ri ifi •V m With our labor we fouud our appetites in- creased; and our scanty allowance, (which waa bread and water, it being but one pound and a half of bread, composed of coarse materials, which was all the kind of food we had allowed us) was insufficient to support us in our wock. We immediately made our complaint to the gaoler, informing him that unless he gave us more to eat we could not do the task assigned us ; in reply, he told us "Ac could not help us, and that we had better apply to the Governor .^^ Upon this we drew up a petition, setting forth our wants and privations in the clearest and most forcible manner, and praying for immedi- ate and effectual relief, and sent it to the Gov- ernor. But it produced no effect. We next petitioned the citizens, presenting our distress, as we had to the Governor, and imploring them to assist us by affording us some of the neces- saries of life,out of the abundance they posses- sed. Here we were successful, and for a while •obtained some small mitigation of our sorrows, but as we continued to plead for a continuation of these favors, and to paint our want6 in the most glowing colors, our situation became a matter of notoriety, our distress became a mat- ter of common conversation, until the officers of the prison discovering that they were likely to be charged with inhumanity and hard-heart- edness published us as imposters, and by this act stifled every generous and charitable feeling towards us, and blasted all our hopes of assist^ ance from this quarter. ites in- lich was id and a aterials, allowed ur work, kt to the gave us assigned t help ws, overnor.^^ ;ing forth arcst and r immedi- the Gov- We next ir distress, ►ring them ihe neces- ir sorrows, )ntinwation mt6 in the became a ame a mat- Lhe officers were likely hard-heart- by this act able feeling ,3 of assist- LIFE OF VV. B. LIGHTON. 135 So far did the distress endured by us extend, that on one occasion,as the turnkey came to our apartment, he was followed by a large cat, a great favorite of one of the gentlemen of the prison, which passed along into one of the cells and was unobservedly left in the room. The prisoners like beings suffering with starvation, seized the poor creature, and immediately kil- led and cooked it, and in less than two hours eat him up ; those vHio partook of it declared it was as savotiry as veal. We now contrived another plan to obtain h^lp, which was to make skewers for the butchers, out of part of the wood we were allowed for fires. As the avails of these skewers, we re- ceived the offal of the market, such as beePs heads, sheep's heads, and pluck, &c. some of which would stink like carrion, but we devour- ed every think with greediness ; but others in the prison observing our success adopted the same method and soon spoiled our market. I now applied myself to drawing and paint- ing, for which I possessed considerable taste, hoping to obtain a trifling sum for my produc- tions,but found myself disappointed. However, I followed it for amusement, as it tended to be- guile away many of my tedious hours. Added to want of food, we suffered greatly from cold, as all the bed clothing we were allowed, was one blanket per man. Our dress too, became thread-bare and torn, and some indeed were al- most naked ; which greatly increased, our suf- ferings bv the cold. Bur this was not the worst; 13* : ) ■■■■' ^ ■A %■ i'-)'* .i V !' (■ 1; 136 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. ft i ' i '.I It i the prison was filthy, and not having proper necessaries to make us comfortable, we became cicceedingly infested with lice, so th^i, in short, wt presented a spectacle, that would make hu- manity shudder at the sight. We next resolved to rid ourselves of part of ur labor, which we did by throwing a large portion of rope, brought us to be picked, into the privy y so that out, of thirty pounds brought to us, we seldom returned more than one half, the rest being destroyed in the way mentioned, or by fire. In this way we contrived to clear the prison of the article, and thus were out of employ for some time. A great failure, howev- er, in the returns made at the «nd of the job, created strong suspicions that we had destroyed some of our work, but as they possessed no ev- idence of our guilt, we for a while, remained undiscovered. By and by however, the draught* though twenty feet in depth, became filled up, which led the turnkey to inspect it, when he found a huge pile of rope which we had placed there. Enraged at the diPiCOvery, he told us that we should pick it all cut as soon as the spring op«^ned, and the draught >hould be thaw- ed . In this however, he was mistaken,for soon after it began to thaw, the heavy current of water which passed through, washed it away through the common sewer into the river, and we heard no more about it. These unmitigated sorrows and troubles ten- ded to drive us almost to despair, and some of the prisoners were strongly tempted to commit LIFE OF VV. B. LIGIITON. 137 suicide ; and I doubt not but they would have done it, had it not been for a faint hope that they should make their escape. Amid these calam- ities I was prompted to write to my friend Mr. W. of Montreal, stating to him my situation and sufferings. He was pleased to answer me, and recommended me to write to two of his friends in Quebec, whose addresses he sent in his letter. I accordinorlv wrote to one of them, who only ridiculed me for my pains. Howev- er, 1 sent to him a second time, and enclosed Mr. Ws. letter in one of my own, which had a better effect. He sent me some necessaries and a dollar in money. When this was expended I wrote to the other^ who immediately came to visit me ; upon en- tering the room, he inquired for me by name, and said he was ?vlr. . Taking him aside, I presented him with Mr. W's. letter ; after perusing it some time, he asked me, "ore you a mason ?" I replied, no sir ; upon which he started back and said, "/ took you to he one by your ivriiing, but as you are not I shall render you no assistance.^^ He then left me, apparent- ly much chagrined. I confess I was not a little surprised at the man's conduct, at his be- ing so desirous to know if I was a masouy and on finding I was not, treated me with so much disdain and contempt. Reader, he belonged to a party whose narrow benevolence is confined to their own narrow circle! What a bene vo lent institution is Free Masonry ! Failing to obtain help from this source, I (1 ! i . -■! 1 ' J '' I :.» i '■ '}y M I' •( 138 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. t* ■*! ! i^i r ': wrote to my father, but as I never received an answer, I know not whether he ever saw my letter. My situation remaining so painful, and seeing no hope of its being any better, I began to think of making my escape. To effect it from our room of confinement I saw was impos- sible. I then turned my attention to another spot, where the prospect was truly flattering. Af^er we had done our week's work, we had to take our several portions into an upper garret. In this garret were three windows, unprotected by iron bars and of easy access upon the inside, from whence we v/^re told by the turnkey ,some prisoners of the enemy made their escape, dur- ing the American war. I used in my weekly visits to this place, to open the windows and look down upon the busy multitude below, and sometimes would become so excited as to be scarcely able to refrain from making the attempt in open day. My plan was to secrete myself among the oakum, and in the night, descend into the street by the aid of a rope. Before it could be accomplished however, it wa« neees- sary to obtain the confidence of my fellow ^pris- oners, and their consent to keep my absence a secret from the turnkey, long enough for me to make my escape. Accordingly I laid my plan before them, upon which they promised to aid me with their secrecy, though they thought me ventursome in attempting it that way, as the win- dow was four stories from the ground,aBd a tri- fling mishap would be attended with the most serious consequences. The next time we ■ )h LIFE OF W. B. LIGUTON. 139 carried our oakum, I was so successful during the hurry of business as to secrete myself among the lumber of the garret ; the rest of the prisoners retired, and I fancied my self safe, and sure to escape as soon as night should favor me with darkness. Unfortunately, as the pris- oners were going back to their room, an order- ly prisoner who had tho liberty of the yard,and who assisted the turnkey in his duties, perceiv- ed me to be missing from among the rest ; sus- pecting the cause, he immediately returned to the garret, and having the keys of that" apart- ment entered, and bade me come forward, for I was in the most serious danger of being dis- covered. I remained unwilling to yield, but he continued to persuade me, and bid me for my own safety to regard him as my friend. Finding I was discovered, I came forward from my retreat, and asked the cause of his importunity. He replied, " that having appre- hended my design, he had come to dissuade me from it, inasmuch as it would expose me to death, should I fail, and bring him under repre- hension for not keeping a close watch." He added, ** you may possibly make your escape some other way, where I will not betray you, nor will I mention the present affair. Afraid of further discovery I retired to my room, much disappointed, to meditate on some ' new and more successful scheme. My next attempt was as follows : Our water was situated near the outer door of the prison, from whence we had to get it ■f :i I I ummmmf,- l« ; t $. 1 \ ti it t :l 140 LIFE OF \V. B. LldHTON, .11 every day, ia large wooden vessels. I saw it was barely possible to rush by the sentry into the street, and accordingly determined to make the trial. I communicated it to my companions, who, pleased with my resolution, jocosely ex- claimed, ^^ get away if you can /" To aid me in my purpose they agreed to appoint me their or- derly, so that I should be able to select the most favorable opportunity. To avoid suspi- cion, I used to go without my hat, having secur- ed beneath my pantaloons, an old woolen cap, which I begged of a Frenchman, one of the prisoners. One day going as usual after my water, while filling my tub very deliberately, the sentry, attracted by some novelty, turned his head, when siezing the precious opportunity, I sprang to the door, and was in the street, in a moment, running like a race horse. Just as I sprang through the door-way, the turnkey, im- patient at our delay, came to the head of the stairs,and stooping down to see what was doing, discovered a pair of heels at the door, and sus- pecting foul play, he rushed into the street be- fore I had got ten rods from the gaol. I was however, upon the full run, but the roads being slippery, (it was in the early part of spring, when the streets were covered with ice) and my shoes dry, I made but little progress ; the turnkey rapidly gained upon me, and with such a stentorious shout, as he said, ^^ stop that pris- onery"* that alarmed me of his unwelcome ap- proach. I ran with all possible speed, until by slipping and tumbling, he came upon me, and ^aw it ry into ) make anions, \y ex- ji me in aeir or- 3ct the i 8uspi- T secur- en cap, e of the ifter my )erately, , turned ortunity, reet, in a ust as I ikey, im- d of the as doing, and sus- 5treet be- I was ads being )f spring, ice) and •ess ; the with such that pris- come ap- d, until by n me, and LIFE OF W. B. LIGUTOIV. 141 knocked me down with a blow, and then fasten- ing a firm grasp on my collar, conducted me back to the prison. Upon arriving at the pris- on door, I found the guard had prepared them- selves for a pursuit after me ; they manifested the most angry feelings, the sentry especially, was so infuriated that had he dared, he would have run me through with his bayonet. A large concourse of spectators had also assem- bled from all quarters, among whom was the gaoler, who dealt out a number of blows upon my head with his fist, and pulled my ears most shamefully, and ordered me to be put in irons, and confined in the dungeon. My place of confinement was opposite the guard-house,and the soldiers amused themselves with mimicking my sufferings ; which, togeth- er with my miserable situation, so exaspera- ted and excited my passions, that I shook my irons, knocked at the door, and screamed with such vehemence, that I became entirely ex- hausted, and at last, ashamed of my conduct. In the evening I was taken out of the dungeon, and conveyed back to my room where 1 was suffered to remain in irons a week. The prisoners still continued to make the most bitter complaints, until exasperated by their continued misery, they formed a resolu- tion to break out of the prison : an agreement was made, by which all of us promised to abide. 'J'he next question was, where to make the at- tempt ; to break from our own room, seemed to be a task insurmountable, and impossible, on account of its being so near the post occu- ;'i im ! I.' u 142 LIFE OF W. n. LIGHTOIf. pied by the sentry. The room in which we were first confined, viz. the workhouse, offered advantages far preferable to the one we occu- pied, which made it a matter of importance for us to gain possesion of it if practicable. This could not be done without the consent of tho gaoler ; to gain this, we behaved ourselves in the most unexceptionable manner, and having ingratiated ourselves in his favor, we made our request to be confined in the workhouse, as wo thought we should enjoy ourselves better, as in our present room we were in danger of sick- ness, from tlie almost insufferable stench of tho privy. Supposing us sincere, he granted us the privilege, as also the liberty of walking oc- casionally in the yard. Our time being occu- pied during the day in breaking stones, for which we received one half penny per bushel, we had but little spare time to mature our proj- ect. Previous to commencing operations, we bound ourselves by oath, to stand or fall togeth- er. In doing this, we chose an old man by the name of Pireau for a justice, who was in- ferior to none in administering the oath. He was candid, deliberate, and solemn, obliging each to repeat the words after him, and to kiss the Holy Bible, (afler the English manner of taking the oath) concluding with these words, " I will agree to the design proposed, and in every respect prove faithful, so help me God !" We immediately proceeded to make prepar- ations ; the old man was appointed chief in the enterprise ; his plan was to cut away the bars I I LIFE OF W. n. IJfillTON. 143 use, as we of our window, ns no other way seemed prnctU cable. To cfloct this, we sent out by one df the visitors, and procured a knife and file ; the knife however, was so thick and unfit for the purpose, we had to take it, each alternately, and rub it on a stone until it became fit for our purpose. The old man, who was afterwards, for his singular cunning, called the ^^ old fox"*^ made it into a saw, and hid it over a door, ready for a convenient time. From our being so strictly guarded by sentinels, it was difhcult to determine where to commence our operiktions ; at length, we fixed on the window oi the north corner of the prison, which was ihe only place where we could expect success. Close b . this window was the wall of the prison yard vnich rose about three feet higher than the window : our intention was, to cut away the inner anti the outer bars, and then by means of a plank we had procured for the purpose, mount the top of the wall, and descend on the other side by a rope attached to the remaining bars of the window. As we were so closely guarded by sentinels, we were necessarily prevented from prosecuting our scheme in calm nights, and were obliged to select the wet and stormy, when the sentinels would be taking the shelter afforded them by their b.>!:es. While our old friend was employed in cutting the bars, the rest of us were stationed as watchers round the room to observe the least movement, and give timely warning of the minutest sound. One of our number was j)]ac<'d by the window, 14 ■ t .ii i H' ■ j) Hi 144 LIFE OF W. B, LIGHTO?r. ^i:f^ [, ) 'T '"i ' m olored his influence to effect my release from prison and restoration to the regiment. In answer, he said his infl'ience could do me no good, as he could not t ro' are my release ; if he could, it would afford him pleasure to do it. He expressed his sorrow at seeing my situation, and said he hoped it would end in my good ; I next asked him about my discharge ; lie said I was still a soldier, but not under their command, in con- sequence of which, they must leave me behind, the governor having power to do as his wisdom should direct after my release. From this I concluded that my days of happiness were past and that I was doomed to sorrow and suffering during the rest of my life. Before the regi- ment left Quebec, all the foreigners were dis- charged, so that they might have none but British subjects under their command ; these discharged soldiers rendered me some impor- tant relief by their generosity ; for which may they be rewarded in heaven I Having failed in every attempt we had yet made, our hearts were sunken, and we were •therefore miserable and unhappy, but still desir- ous of improving every opportunity, in which we could discover any hope of success : we each seperatley joined to watch for our own re- lief. Having now only one alternative, we thought of improving that in hopes of gaining (.:! MPE OF W. B. LIGIITON. 149 our release, which was to petition to the gov- ernor, and humbly implore His Excellency's clemency in our behalf ; but of all the number of petitions we sent, we received no answer or assistance. Thinking we had now exhausted every means within our power to gain our lib- erty, or any relief from our misery, we desist- ed from all further efforts and submitted our- selves as patiently as we could to our wretched and miserable fate. But we had not been long in this state of gloomy despair before our hopes were again lit up far brighter than ever, inso- much, that it exhilerated our feeble strength, and made us think without a doubt our present troubles and sorrows were near an end. 'J'he circumstance was as follows. A ship of the line had arrived in the harbor, the officers of which visited the prison for the purpose of ob- taining some able bodied men to go on board for the service. I'he keepers of the prison permitted us all into their presence, when they asked us if we were willing to vohmteer to go on board a man of war, to which we all answer- ed in the affirmative. They then proceeded to take down our names, &c. telling us they should send for us in a few days. But alas ! our hopes were soon disappointed in hearing that they had sailed : — why or wherefore they did not take us we were never informed. At length I obtained the confidence of my keepers, who were so kind as to relieve me from my confinement, by taking me to act as waiter for a gentleman confined for debt, which I i i !' ! ■ II: 'I' .:fe 150 LIFE OF \V. E. LICillTON. : I \t'\i '1 P%l r' ■»!■''!,! ';. '■ i ' " r' If' f I ?; (• Hi < , i service procured me the liberty of the yard, though I was still shut up in my room at night. In the mean time the prisoners contrived anoth- er plan to attempt an escape, and notwitstand- ing their former ill success determined to pros- ecute it. The plan was at once hazardous and cunning ; it was to descent the draught oTthe privy, and follow up the chaiMiel^ ai.d cosn ng under the public istreet, to cut a hole through, and escape. In t.^king this course, we had to act with great caution, as we bad to pass under several drau, ' 152 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. channel. In coming to the narrow places be- tween the draughts, we experienced great dif- ficulty, as n great rain, which had recently fal- len had filled up the channel, so that crawling as we were obliged to do, on our hands and knees, we were in danger of suffocation, and with all our efforts we could but just keep our heads above the rapid current of filthy water The prisoners were sadly disappointed at having to endure such troubles, for they had expected to be able to walk erect, and without difiiculty ; they conseqently began to blame and censure us most blasphemously for having brought them into such a filthy hole. Some were so unfortunate as to drown their lights and weie consequently involved in darkness, which 80 discouraged them,'that they would have turn- ed and gone back, but the channel was too nar- row to afford them that privilege ; they were therefore obliged to go ahead. The old man, who was forward, and who kept his light burn- '^iK, endeavored to entourage the rest behind i:iMi, and in return for his courage, would re- ceive oaths and curses. Indeed, the scene was one of the most ludicrous that could well be imagined : nor could I refrain from laughing heartily, to hear the prisoners bewailing their calamity as they toiled up the way upon their hands and knees. We could not possibly avoid getting wet all over ^ this we had in a measure expected ; and had consequently put on our poorest articles of clothing, carrying the rest in our bundles for a change. But notwithstand- LIFE OF W. n. I.IGUTON. 153 ing all our efforts, our bundles became as wet as ourselves, as we were unable to carry them in our arms, but were obliged to drag them along in the best way we could. 'J'he place of operation was more spacious, and afforded us a little relief from our toil and danger; there we all stopped, expecting in a few moments to breathe a purer air, and to enjoy the bl issings of liberty. I was then ordered forward to as- sist the old man in preparing the excavation, as only two of us could labor together. After la- boring some time without the least sign of sue- cess,the men became dissatisfied,and impatient, when the following conversation took place : *' Well, are you almost ready ?" No, was our reply. A few moments passed, and they in- quired more earnestly : " Have you got the hole made ?" We answered no. At which they became more uneasy ; some swore, and others blackguarded us lor being lazy. Again they exclaimed, " Is the hole made now ?" Again we answered no a Well what is the matter, don't you do any thing ?" Yes ! we shall get through by and by, only keep still. They now began praising us until their fit of impatience came upon them, and they inquired again,halloo there, old fox, what are you about ? Is the hole made now ? We answered no, and we are afraid we shall not be able to accom- plish much, the wa'.er is so high, besides we must have something with which to dig into the wall. It may be observed here, that we had no implement to aid us but the bar, we had cut I Wwm ii' '1 i|' f I ? ( m 1 . 11 (I ' .I'lii 154 LIFK OF W. B. LIGIITON. out of the grating, and the channel being wal- led on each side, and overlaid with large tim- bers, we could not make the least impression. The prisoners again demanded if we were ready to go out ; to which wo replied, it was impossi- ble to succeed that night ; and it was best for us to return to our room, until the water should subside, and we be able to procure some arti- cle to aid us in forcing away the stones and timbers. Now commenced a scene the most mfamous and diabolical I ever witnessed in my life. On account of our ill success, the prisoners became extremely enraged, and cursed the old man and myself for having brought them down into that wretched filthy hole. They set up a most hideous yell and pronounced curses enough had they been heard, to have sunk them and tlie draught into perdition. For my own part, I heartily wished their heads fast stuck in the filth, through which they were struggling, until they learnt how to be silent. After regaining the draught, we hailed the man, who remained in the room, who lowered the rope, and drew up the liglitest of us, and then one after the other, we j^cended to our abode, wet and mis- erable, where we had to cleanse, and hang up our clothes to be put on wet in the morning. It WaS well for us that the individual, who was our main help in getting back into the room, re- mained there, or we must have suffered, if not some of us perished before morning. After wringing out my clothes, I retired to Lirn OP w. n. m«iiton. 155 [ retired to bed •, where, L,,ing nothing hut a hlankct to cover me, I passed the night, cold and shiver- ing. In the morning, I arose and passed to my duty without any remark made about my appearance, and probably our attempt would have remained undiscovered, had it not been for the treachery of* one of our number, who, regardless of the solemn oath he had taken, revealed the whole circumstance to the gaoler, and turnkey, a shoif time after I had left the room to wait as usual on the gentleman before mentioned. No sooner were they informed of the fact than they drove us all down into the dungeon, where they examined us, to ascertain who were the instigators and ringleaders of the plot. As the old man and myself were found guilty in the former case, so were we condemned as the instigators of this plan, and Avcre consequently loaded heavily with irons. While in this helpless situation, two of the prisoners conceiving me to be the cause of their being immersed in the dungeon, afflicted me with the most violent abuse, and even robbed iiieofmy food. However, the night relieved me from the company of these ungrateful wretches, as they were taken back to their room, while my comrade and myself were lefl inmates of the dark, miserable hole ; but it seemed less filthy after the otliers had been re- moved. As our irons were very troublesome, my old comrade, with the help of a piece of iron, made out to cut his in such a way, that he could put 15 'V f' I I ;r >( ! ' I I' ) 'll ' ' :i 156 LIFE OF W. D. LIGIITON. them off and on at pleasure , < > that during the day he would walk about the dungeon without them, and sleep with them off at night ; but ou the approach of the turnkey, would put them on again ; when one day the turnkey surprised him before he had time to get them on, they were immediately riveted on more firmly than ever. Upon being restored back to my room, I re- solved within myself, that I would never make another attempt to escape in company with oth- ers, inasmuch, as there were some, who would be sure to betray, either from fear, or desire to gain the approbation and favor of the officers of the prison. It was only a few days after I had been placed back in my room, that some of the prisoners made another attempt to escape by the same way. The turnkey had just gone his round, when one of them descended the draught to examine the grating, &lc. when, in less than five minutes, the keepers sprang in suddenly, and began their inquiries, by asking for old Mr. P. and myself. Happily we were in bed; but although we informed them of the fact,they could hardly be persuaded that it was not us, who had descended the draught, until the gaol- er's wife came to our bed and assured them we were indeed there. She appeared to be much concerned about us, and would not be satisfied with our answers ; but as the light was in the hands of the turnkey, in another part of the room, she felt the outside of the bed in order to assure herself that we were there. She asked i.ii'K OF w. «• i.ionro.'v. 157 US if we hud any hand in bicnUing out ; we told her no, nor wo never meant to be guilty of such u crme again, so long as we remained in prison. The poor fcUow who had descended, was soon taken out tlirough a trap-door, when the turnkey beat him most sliamcfully with a cudg- el, and in a cruel manner drove him down to tlie dungeon, where he was heavily ironed, and kept for a considerable time. This circum- stance had such an effect on the prisoners that they abandoned all idea of liberation until their time should be expired. As I had resolved to adopt the same resolu- tion, I thought it best, while shut up from ac- tive life, to devote myself to the improvement of my mind, which would tend to prepare me for future happiness. My means of improve- ment were very small ; I had access to but very few books ; however, I strove to improve some- what in writing, arithmetic and drawing ; to which studies I devoted every moment of lei- sure I possessed. I soon found this course ef- ficient to relieve ine of that insufferable prison melancholy, of which I had heretofore been the unhappy subject, and it proved ultimately to pave the way for the unexpected and glorious change I subsequently experienced. About this time it happened, that a young Englishman was committed to our prison for a petty crime. He was well educated, and pos- sessed a tenderness of manner, which rendered him beloved by the prisoners. By a long train of misfortu es he had become reduced to the 1^. M; 'i I *ff fjii If"' I 1 1 ■tf I .1 i i ! f .'.' him : ■; mm ■.( t, ' , f i : a ir 153 LIFE OF W. B. LICJIITON. lowest state of degradation ; when, for the gratificajtion of his sinful, and intemperate hab- its, he committed the act which brought him into prison. Young reader, what think you •vas the first cause of this young man's down- fall, and wretchedness — O ! it was cruel diso- bedience to dear and affectionate PARENTS. Nor was he the only instance among the many that were under confinement ; some indeed, could date their whole sufferings from the crime above mentioned. O then, beware ! refrain from the accursed evil, for it leads to every spe- cies of wretchedness, and not unfrequently to a deplorable and untimely death. Hear your duty from the mouth of God upon this subject. ^^ Honor thy father and thy mother ; that thy days may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee.^' But to proceed with my narrative : He had not been here long, before we formed the most intimate friendship, and as he loved reading, he joined with me in my studies, and read every book which he could obtain. Among many we borrowed, was Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress ; a bock to which we were both entire strangers, as well as to the matter it contained. As my young friend read, I used to sit and listen ; he had not read far before I became truly enamor- ed with the fascinating manner of tlie author. In describing the Pilgrim's manner of leaving the city of destruction (his native home) and pursuing his heavenly journey through trif;!s and troubles, with the mo&i minute circumspec- LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 159 lion, I could not help feeling convinced tiiat that was the only way to heaven and happiness; and I felt as if I must pass through the layer of regeneration and become spiritually united to our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, and by his grace become obedient, in order to gain " ever- lasting life ;" and in reading his account of the pilgrim^s losing his burden at the foot of the cross,I could not but desire a similar happiness, and wished that God would be pleased to re- move the burden of my sins, as I felt the im- portance and necessity of such a work. After perusing this work and contemplating the hap- py and triumphant end of the way worn pil- grim, I became the subject of serious reflexi- tions, which produced the deepest convictions for sin. At length Divine Providence opened the way for the bringirig about his merciful de- signs towards me. We were visited by a Mr. Archibald, a minister of the gospel, and anoth- er gentleman, whose name I ha\e forgotten, an officer belonging to the Royal Engineer De- partment. These gentlemen possessed a sweet- ness of disposition, that I have never found ex- cept in those who have the mind of their heav- enly master Jesus Christ, Thrir piety v/aa deep and fervent : it shone conspicuous in their deportment, and b> their conversation and man- ner it was evident they had br«in with Jesn.s. Ml. A. used to take me aside, and with much affection of manner sirive to impress my mind with the importance of a chanr/c of heart. He faithfully warn^^d me c/f my danger, he told mc 15* 1 , ,i ■ . , 1.;' ir n ^:-'l$'- <" i;i' i'ti. ' ''^H ':) II I'i '! 160 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. I was a sinner, at an almost infinite distance from God, and that if I would be reconciled, I must take the Lord Jesus Christ for my Saviour, and repent of all my sins. But I felt like most sinners, though under deep convictions, as if I could not attend to his instructions thefiy but thought I would after I was liberated, as at present I was surrounded by what might em- phatically be called the devils own children, who I thought would ridicule me if I became relig- ious. Thus did I, for a long time, drown my tender feelings, and grieve the Holy Spirit; but still I could not rest, for although I could resist and grieve the Spirit, I could not resist convic~ Hon ; it would follow me in spite of all that I could do. One afternoon I attended the prison chapel, when we were addressed by a perfect stranger. He was an elderly gentleman ; his dress was that of an old fashioned Methodist preacher, such as I had seen worn in England ; his pe- culiar appearance attracted my attention, and prepared me to hear with profit. His prayer was fervent and powerful, and it seemed as if he would not let go of heaven, until God had blessed him, and his suffering auditory. While praying for the prisoners, he seemed to carry my peculiar case to the throne of grace, and I felt my convictions increase so powerfully, that I should have been pleased could I have got away. In his sermon, he showed Christ to be the great sacrifice for sin ; he pointed out the sin- 11.0 LIFE OF W. B. UGHTOiV. 161 fulness of sin^ and spake of its effects in the most affecting and alarming manner. He then addressed himselfto the prisoners, and showed us that all our sulferings, and loss of happiness had been occasioned by sin, and then affection- ately invited us to Christ ; urging the most weighty motives to repentance and faith, and pointing out their blessed effects- ?! .could not resist the eloquence of his pleadings ; my heart was melted, so that I was barely able to refrain from weeping. At the clese of the meeting, I went to the venerable preacher, and taking him aside, said to him, Sir, I am desirous to become a better man ; I wish to be pious ; I am sensible I have hitherto lived an enemy to God ; I ask your council and your prayers, that your labor may not be lost upon me, when I could refrain no longer from giving vent to my feelings in a Hood of tears. With the deepest affection he took me by the hand, and earirestly entreated me not to stifle my good impressions, but sub- mit to them, until they should be succeeded by an evidence, that I was born of God ; adding, you must pray for mercy and pardon ; believe in the Lord Jesus Christ , confess your sins ; forsake all your evil doiiigr., and he will receive y->u. I said, I could not pray, as I did not know how. Said he, vou can pray the Lord's Prayer : I answered, 1 could, as I was taught it by my parents when a child. He bid me use that, and advised mc to make it my modol, in all my addresses to the throne of grace. He !<<( I. . I " i 1 !'(!f I '• (■!' ! t|l fiiM !|li:|lir 162 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. concluded by offering some advice about my future conduct, and wishing that I might enjoy the full fruition of God's love, left me to my re- flections. I was now in the deepest distress of mind imaginable. I saw that God's holy law was against me, and seemed to sink under an al- most insupportable load of guilt. To enhance my grief, I thought I should now, like Sampson, have to make sport for the Philistines ; for my companions were bitterly opposed to religion. In this state of mind I remained for some time, speaking to none about my feelings, except Mr. A., to whom I circumstantially related all that passed. He administered the best possible ad- vice, and procured me books, suited to my con- dition. One of these was speedily blest to my advantage. It was called the " ProdigaV^ Lifcy^^ and was the means of so increasing my conviction that I had little rest, day or night. During the time I was in this state of mind, I generally was alone ; either reading, praying, or walking the room in meditation. On one occasion, thoughtlessly joining to walk the room with those sons of Belial, they began to talk of what they would do after they were re- leased, and wanted to know if I would not join them in their wicked plans : as they talked, their feelings waxed hotter and hotter, until they seemed ripe for the perpetration of their diabolical schemes that very moment. Sud- denly, I paused, and had such an overwhelm- ing view of my sinfulness, and danger, that I LIFE OF W. B. MGUTON. 1G3 was convinced I must either turn at once to God, or be lost forever. Still I sought for an ex- cuse, but my oppression increased ; I felt that I must yield that moment, or be damned. Tt seemed as if hell was open before me, ready to swallow me up, and it appeared to me as if in five minutes more I should be there, wailing with the lost. Thus overpowered by the spirit of God, I left the company ; retired to my bedside, fell on my knees, my sins appearing like mountains, rising before me, where I prayed earnestly to God, that he would have mercy upon my soul. While I was praying one of the company camo into the room. It being dark, he stumbled ovei* my feet, which led him to exert himself with his hands to prevent a fall ; at the si;me moment, beginning to speak ; but he stopped short, as soon as he found I was praying. After giving vent to my soul in prayer, I felt my load of guilt removed : the insupportable burden was gone : I was refreshed, and thought I could forever travel the heavenly journey without growing faint or weary. I arose from my knees like a new man : every thing around me appeared different. Surely it was a new crea- tion, by the ^race of God, even the transfor- mation of mv soul from darkness to lisht, from Satan to God. I was the possessor of new feelings ; my soul was filled with the love of God ; I loved my fellow prisoners though they had done me injury, and could willingly do them good. But a few minutes before, ifelt as on m m Im w ;' !■ 4 :fm I ,1 164 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. mi if '■■m nv M % i> 168 r.IFF OF W. B. LTOIITON. i ' 1 !i: '^\i /:r t ! M'' ■fi If- 1 my situation, and the happy change ^ had ex- perienced, I wrote them a letter, 'nforming thrm of all that had befalleu me. I placed it in the hands of Mr. A. who engaged to forward it ')r me the first opporf^iiiit.y ; but I never re- ceived any answer in teiurn, which still kept rne under very unpleasant feelings, from the same fears as mentioned before. At length the gentleman who came as com- panion with Mr. A. was called by Divine Frovidence to leave Quebec. Before his de- parture, he came to pay us his last visit, which proved to be an interesting and profitable sea- son. Aftrr having given us much good advice and fervently commended us to God in prayer, he took us each by the hand and affectionately bade us farewell. It was the most interesting season I ever witnessed; every eye was drown- ed in tears, and every heart full, and as he lefl us, we wished the blessing of those, who are ready to perish, might be upon him. Not only did the Lord impart the blessing of his grace to my soul, whereby I was able to say : Through every period of my life. Thy goodness Pll pursue ; And after death, in distants worlds. The pleasing theme renew. Through all eternity, to thee A grateful song I'll raise, But O ! eternity 8 too short. To utter all thy praise, but he opened a door whereby I was relieved from some of my temporal afflictions. The I 1 i J LIFE OF AV. B. I,1<;HT0.\. 1G9 gaoler, discovering my integrity and desire of usefulness, employed me to murk the prison bedding, clothes, &.c. by doing which, 1 occr- sionally obtained the liberty of the yard. It was soon after proposed to establish a school ill the prison, for the benefit of tlie illiterate and entirely ignorant, and by the advice of Mr. A. I was chosen to instruct in English, and a young man of suitable talents was appointed to teach the French 1 lage. To encourage ujj, they promised to rd is liberally, if wo suc- ceeded in gainm; i ^>plause. We com- menced our new -, .. ly prayer, in presence of Mr. A. and the committee, which was cho- sen to superintend its operations. Our success was such as to call forth the unqualified appro- bation of the committee, who were highly grat- ified at the progress we made. While engaged in the school, I had the sum of four dollars sent 'ne, by my worthy friend, Mr. W. of Mon- treal, which proved of great service, as I had not received any thing for my labors in teach- ing, and was in consequence thereof, under de- plorable circumstances. But thank God he was mindful and merciful toward me, in that he was pleased to relieve me in an hour, when I most needed it, my soul could say, ** Behind a frowning Proviclenes He hides a smiling face.'* As I stood in need of provision, I sent out and purchased a whole sheep, (dressed) some peas, &c. The man just arrived with it as Mr. A. came to visit the school. Not designing lie i . Ml ,; ■t. I i >'' ' y III i.l *-A^-. > IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) A ^y/^ s^ 1.0 I.I ^1^ m ■^ iiii 12.2 2? 144 ■— ^ U£ 12.0 i ■ IE — Ill— III! '-^ ^ 6" — ► Hiotographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STMET WEBSTER, N.Y. UStO (716) S72-4S03 170 LIFE OF W. B. IJGIITON. I! .i'l.s \^.m '! ' •I h 1 should know it, I hastened to secrete it in a cell in the room, but his eye being too sharp for me, he caught sight of it, and supecting by the bustle something was on foot, his curiosity led him to look into the cell, where, to his surprise, he saw the whole carcass of a sheep placed up in one corner. Turning from the cell, he ask- ed me whose it was, I told him it was mine. "Well then," said he, "you mean to live well I see." Indeed, this circumstance had a bad ef- fect upon his liberality, as neither my comrade nor myself ever received any renumeration for our trouble. They thought we lived well enough without it. Upon the approach of spring, our school closed, through the neglect of the prisoners, when the committee thought it advisable to close it for the season. No one having any thing against my character, the keepers said nothing to me about returning to my close room, but still permitted me to ^i^oy the liberty of the yard. Things were in this situation, when a French gentleman, named Moruia, by profession a doc- tor, was committed to prison, though unjustly, for six months. This gentleman soon became my friend, and as he occupied a private room, succeeded in gaining the consent of the gaoler, ibr me to room with him ; which circumstance made me comparatively happy. I saw the fin- ger of Providence evidently at work in my be- half, and began to indulge a hope that circum- stances would soon conspire to favor my escape. While with the doctor, he cured me of a can- LIFE OP W. D. LIGHTON. 171 cer, which for some time had filled me with alarm, and threatened me w^ith early dissolution. He also gave me some clothing, which togeth- er with what I received from the jail made me quite comfortable in that respect. The providence of God still worked in my favor, and caused my heart to leap with inward joy. I was again taken into employ by the gaoler. His boy, whom he employed as ser- vant, left him, and as he wanted another to take the immediate charge of his horses, that were stabled witliin the waJls-of the prison yard, he pitched on me to supply that vacant place, I had not lived in this situation a week, before I discovered a possibility of making my escape, and having the highest confidence in the Doc- tor, I mentioned it to him, for his consideration, who, transported with so favorable a, pinn, cau- tioned me to keep it a profound secret, and when the propitious moment arrived, he would abscond with rue, merely for the sake of making my escape complete. Meanwhile he began sending out his library to a friend in the city ; but this excited no suspicion as his time was nearly expired. Before I proceed further, I will just mention the principle existing in the bosom of the Doc- tor, that influenced him to this philanthropic and benevolent act. It was that he had a sin- cere and friendly regard for my happiness. To use his own words, he said : " When I think of your situation, the misery you have to suffer^ and very probably will have to undergo 16* I ; i %' V, '} 't m>i w n m ■: : i ^UF ill '" m \ .ti^i rlii ■ ^K 'i '••*■■■**;■..■ 172 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTOW. » I.I, !t. i ;iU|!| !,■ i. ■',1 -all your life, from the fact that you are a desert- er from the army, the punishment for which, you have no hope, under the circumstances it was committed, of its being any other than transportation for life, which to me, is the most miserable I can possibly conceive. And again, when I take into consideration your tender youth, and the probability of your future use- fulness, both to yourself and the world, could you be free, I forbid declining so noble an act, which I well know will be the final means of your deliverance from all your present and fu- ture misery — and will restore you to liberty and happiness. With these feelings I sacrifice all regard to future consequences, for your happi- ness, and should I be taken for my escape, I shall have the pleasure and satisfaction to know you axe free, and that my memoi^y is cherished m your affedtions for the ad.^^ In regard to the propriety of escaping, my feelings were somewhat delicate, but the idea of being ultimately transported, operated like a goad to urge me on to the attempt ; and me- ihinlis every candid reader will justify th d. As it was my business to take care the horses, I had access to the south garret of the prison, to get their grain, which garret was close by the room where we lived. My plan was to secure the keys of this place, and by the aid of a rope descend from the window to the street, it being unsecured by iron bars. The Doctor had prepared every thing for our exit and we only waited to obtain possession XIPE OP W. B. LIGIITON. 173 of the keys. It happened one evening, that being in want of grain for my horses, I went to the kitchen, as usual, where the keys were kept, and found no person there except a little girl about twelve years of age ; I took them from their place and passed out unobserved, «went up to the garret as quick as possible, and got my grain ; the Doctor and myself obser- ving where was a long stout rope, and in leav- ing the garret, left the inner door unlocked,but to prevent suspicion, fastened the outer door as usual. This done I secured the keys in my own room ; went down stairs and attended to my duty in the stable, and returned to my apartment without exciting the'vleast suspicion^ in the breasts of any. How did my lieart flut- ter at the idea of the prospect before me ! How anxious did I feel for the success of my enter- prise ! How impatient for the hour of attempt ! Every thing was tranouil through the even- mg ; at nine o'clock the turnkey came his usu- al round ; he entered our room, and looking round, wished us good night, and retired. We now fancied ourselves secure, which pro- duced in us the highest feelings of .animation. About ten o'clock we were suddenly alarmed by tho'turnkey, whom we heard unlocking the doors which shut across the passage, leading to our room. Terrified, and fearful we were dis- covered, we threw our half prepared bundles under the bed, and sat apparently deeply enga- ged in study, waiting the event. However, it proved to be nothmg more than the arrival of a I' ii 11] 174 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. new prisoner, who was placed in an adjoining room, by the turnkey, who just came into ours, and bidding us a second good night, left us without suspecting our design. Not feeling disposed to sleep, we spent the night watching for the moment which was to free us from the gloom of the prison. Every thing remained perfectly silent, except the city watchmen, who occasionally pronounced their ^^all ia wjc//," as they passed from beat to beat, an expression which truly accorded with our feelings. At four o'clock, just as the dawn of day was making its appearance in the eastern sky, the watchmen left their several posts ; and we then conceived, at this propitious moment, while darkness overspread the face of nature, and kept man lulled in his slumbers, we should be able to leave the city unobserved. Having secured our bundles, we proceeded to unlock the door of the garret^ which we did with but little noise ; we next secured one end of our rope to a brace, but in dropping it by the eaves (for4he window ^stood in upon the roof) it made veonsiderable noise, as the roof was covered with tin. We paused a moment to as- certain if we had alarmed the sentry, who was in the yard at no great distance ; happily, we had not. After dropping the rope I was so transported with the prospect before me, and fearing my bundle would occasion some diffi- culty, I told the Doctor I would leave it for the reason assigned ; he urged me by all means to take it, but without any further w rds, I seized adjoining nto ours, left us '} spent the ch was to Every t the city iced their it to beat, with our i dawn of le eastern losts ; and s moment, of nature, we should Having to unlock d with but I "^^ end of our it by the a the roof) roof was nent to as- f, who was lappily, we e I was so re me, and some diffi- re it for the 11 means to is, I seized li 1/' m !5 1 \ i 1 , 1 if I » 1 I ' t. ■m i £SCAP£ FROM PB1901S. LIFE OF W. II. LIGIITON. 175 the rope and was quickly in the street below where I retired a short distance to await my companion. He was somewhat longer in de- scending, as he was unwilling I should lose my bundle: he encumbered himself with it. Thus burdened, he had but one hand at liberty to descend with ; he had however, contrived to place the rope between his feet, but unfortu- nately, in turning the eaves of the building, it> slipped from his legs and he had to descend the distance of four story, with one hand only. The suddenness of his descent fired his hand before he got half way down, so that he came near falling, and in consequence of which, it was useless for some time aflerwards. Thus were we providentially delivered from the gloomy confinement of a prison, in which I had been confined, for two years and two months, and where I had suffered in the most distressing manner. To that holy and ever merciful Providence,that supported me through the whole, be ascribed ceaseless and everlast- ing praises ! CHAPTER V. An account of bis life and trials, from his escape from iinpri** onmentjto his arrival in the United States. 7'here is a peculiar sensation, which the mind feels when it is relieved of its weight of trouble, which none but the subject himself can is [ li t i " :.: 176 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. it ^' realize. It was so in my case. I felt it through my whole souU The happiness I felt from fin- ding myself freed from confinement, is beyond either the power of my tongue, or pen to de- scribe. It can only be painted upon the imag- ination of my readers, but never really felt but by myself. Afler my companion had joined me, and de- livered me my bundle, which was what I did not expect, we proceeded out of the city with great, speed, the Doctor taking the lead^ and pursuing the course he thought best and safest. We soon passed the gate at the back of the city, unobserved by any, or without hearing^ the least cause for alarm. We next crossed a river, which at this date, the 25th day of April, 18S5, was passible by teams While crossing the river, the Doctor, who was a devoted Cath- olic, fell on his knees, and thanked Providence who had protected us and favored our escape. For my own part, though I felt equally grate- ful, I was too afraid of discovery to stop as did my companion, but as I proceeded, praised God and jumped for joy. Indeed, I scarcely knew what to do through animation of feeling, sometimes I would hurry the Doctor to the run, but being consideraby advanced in years, he could not run far before he was obliged to moderate his speed into a walk ; then I would take to the run myself, and beckon him to speed on ; at other times I would jump, talk, laugh, and sing, as if I had been beside my reason. The Doctor thought it best for us to go down It it througH elt from fin- t, is beyond pen to de- m the imag- lally felt but me, and de- is what I did the city with he leady and St and safest. ) back of the thout hearing ext crossed a ^ day of April, ^hiie crossing devoted Cath- kd Providence jd our escape, equally grate- r to stop as did jedcd, praised eed, I scarcely tion of feeling, Doctor to the anced in years, ; was obliged to ' then I would on him to speed np, talk, laugh, de my reason, or us to go down LIFE OF W. n. LIGHTON. 177 the St. Lawrence, among the population of French inhabitants, as there was no news in circulation that way, and because our pursuers would not suttpect us of taking that route ; but would naturally suppose we had gone towards the United States. As it was yet between day-light and sunrise, we pursued our way as speedily as possible, until we came to a piece of woods, where we had a view of the city and prison. We remained some time viewing the latter place, and conjecturing what would be the feelings, and language of the keepors,when they found we had been prison keepers during the ^ past night, and that we had opened the doors and window and fled. Indeed, the con- clusion was so extatic, that it drew from us fita of loud and hearty laughter. The forest song- sters now commenced their sweet reviving notes of praise, and all seemed to return thanks to the great Creator for our deliverance. O ! how delightfully grand was this hour, it truly resem- bled the hours I used frequently to pass in the groves, when with my dear parents at home. It begat sentiments of filial gratitude, and a desire that I might again breathe the salubri- ous air of my native clime. We were intending to remain in the woods all day, and travel in the night, until we had got some distance from the city, but the cold having such an effect upon us, we were under the necessity of travelling in order to keep our- selves warm. We accordingly pursued our course across the fields, into the back country 17 ' I, I I 178 LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTOIf. . (; ( :? ,] I ' I which travelling was bsautiful and easy, as w« walked on the hard srowy crust. To prevent suspicion on the part of those we might meet, the Doctor resolved to travel in the practice of his profession, and I was to act in the capacity of servant . At noon we partook of dinner in a French family, which was the first social meal I had eaten in a house since I leQ. England. Towards night we came to a hye-place, where wo both joined in humbl? prayer to Almighty God, giving him thanks for his goodness,, and soliciting his protection in future. In this ex- ercise, our souls were encouraged and refresh- ed, and our confidence in God increased. We then sought a house, and having found- one, we put up for the night. The next night we arrived at one of the Doc- tor's friends, where we remained over the next day and right, and though he was aware we had been prisoners, having visited the Doctor during his confinement, he had no idea we had run away, but supposed us to be regularly dis- charged, the reverse of whiclvwe were careful he should not learn from us. From this place we proceeded to St. Anns, where was a Roman Catholic Church, which was held in high estimation by the French. Having heard much of this place from the pris- oners, while at Quebec, I proposed to visit it, to which my companion assented. To give the reader an idea of the gross superstition of these people, I shall give a true account of the char- r I LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. 179 acterofthis noted church, and what the people themselves believe respecting it. St. Ann, as I was informed by the prisoners, and also by my companion, is much regarded as sacred, among the French Roman Catholics, as a place possessing great healing virtues. Such is their faith in St. Ann (after which saint this church is named) that if any of her wor- shippers enter the church lame, mutilated, or sicK, and by having faith in her efficacy, she will restore them to iheir original state of health, and bodily perfection. In ascending the steps of the building, the Doctor, as is customary, knelt down crossed himself, and said a few words of prayer, while I stood gazing with a kind of superstitious awe at the sacred edifice. Upon entering, the first object that struck my attention was a number of crutches, wooden legs, staves, &.c. hung up in regular rows, as evidence of the cures which had been wrought by the power of St. Ann. As I stepped in, I trembled, as £ hud never been within a catholic church before ; looking to the right, I observed an imitation of the blessed Saviour, nearly as large as life, hang- ing in a relaxed posture on the cross, besmear- ed with blood ; the image, or painting of St. Ann, and other saints. This sight produced in (ue feelings of the most solemn kind, and I fell upon my knees and prayed, not to the images, but to him who died upon the cross for the for- giveness of my sins. O ! when will sm trstition and heathenism be done away ? May G( I grant 180 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. i.if i\'li; i\ I -.1 I. I ' that the light of truth may soon disperse these clouds of error ! But I cannot forbear mentioning one more superstitious act of worship, out of the vast many, that are found among those people ; and that is their cross omage. It will be un- derstood that among them they have at ev- ery short distance, a cross erected by the side of the road, ' '\ on passing them, the devotee of the Roma^i Catholic religion pulls off his hat, crosses himself, and repeats over a short prayer, some even kneeling down at the foot of them. On these relics of catholic su- perstition are frequently seen the various arti- cles, used at the crucifixion of the blessed Sa- viour, placed along in order, on the transfixed beam, or cross piece, together with the cock that croiocd at Peter's denying his Lord and Master. Reader, how different is this from the mild and simple gospel of Jesus ! O, look at Popery ; see it in its effects. It darkens the page of revelation ; spreads ignorance and confusion throughout society ; and with its un- paralleled tyranny, and bloody inqusitions, robs man of his dearest liberty and rights ! May we feel thankful for the gospel, which teaches us the sound principle of a religion, unadorned with Popery ! The Doctor's profession afforded him ample means of support, as he seldom visited a house without doing something for the family, and re- ceiving money in return. After traveling with him, in this manner for a week, I resolved to Ji> ! 'se these ne more the vast people *, U be un- .ve at ev- a by the them, the igion pulls sats over a iwn at the athoUc su- arious arti- jlessed Sa- 3 transfixed h the cock I Lord and his from the O, look at darkens the jrance and with its un- sitions, robs rhts ! May [ich teaches ,, unadorned LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON. 181 ^eave him, and obtain some employment. He at first dissuaded mc, but finding me resolved and decided on this point, he directed his atten- tion to procuring me a situation. I determin- ed however, first to change my name, the bet- ter to avoid detection. The name I chose to assume was Thomas Ellencourt. The next day coming to a large farm, in the parish of St. Joachin, about thirty miles below Quebec, my companion inquired if they wanted to hire ; and after some conversation, and abun- dance of recommendation, from the Doctor, I agreed to work for the gentlem^.n for fifteen shillings per month. My wages were compar- atively small, but it will be observed, that it was rather out of the season to hire at that time, and beside, he engaged me more out of charity than from any thing else. It will be observed also that the best of hired hands, among this people, could get no more than four dollars per month. The bargain being made, I accompan- ied the Doctor a short distance, when after promising to see me again in about two months, if nothing happened to prevent, bade me an af- fectionate farewell. My master set me to chopping wood, at which I made a very awkward appearance, and but little progress, as it was the first time I ever engaged in such business. My delicate ap- pearance induced them to set me about lighter work, such as assisting in the dairy, milking, &c. Afler living with them about three weeks i grew uneasy, as I had no one to converse 17* »i^?»l!; mm M-rii iiti wm'A '■■ ■?i tl 182 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. 1! 'f I i I lili: i [ with in my own tongue, except an old Eng- lishman, who had in early life been a soldier, but who, from thirty years residence with the French, had almost entirely lost the use of his own language. The family were rigid catholics, and required of all their domestics, the strictest conformity to the outward rules of their religion. My feelings were somewhat mortified the first time I entered their church, being a porfect stranger to all their paternosters and ceremonies, I en- tered their church, as I had been wont to do my own, without any regard to their rules and customs. This conduct produced an univer- sal tittering among those who observed my manner ; seeing myself the subject of their laughter^ I looked around to divine the cause, when I saw that each individual, as he entered, dipped his finger into a basin of water, and crossed himself with it, fell on his knees, and repeated a prayer in a mumbling manner ; firom this time, though somewhat galling to my feelings, I followed their example, and ever af- ter passed among them for a catholic. I might relate much of the peculiar charac- eace in their souls, and went away rejoicing. But, although I could not feel the clear evidence of my acceptance, I felt comforted, and left the spot convinced of the value and need of exper- imental religion, and was determined to possess it. On my way home, I considered well the determination I had formed, and resolved forth- with to put it into practice. I now began to live in the practice of christian duties, and to acquaint myself with the word of God. Not having much leisure to devote to study, I used to spend some time every night after nine o'clock, in reading the bible upon my knees, which pro- ved to be a very instructive and profitable em- ployment. To assist me in improving my mind, and af- ford me time for study, my friend Mr. B., kind- ly permitted me to lodge in his house, and have access to his library, where I used to study un- til midnight. As I increased in experience, my unbelief gave way, and at length I obtained a clear and undoubted evidence that God for Christ's sake, had blotted out my sins, and adop- ted me into his family. O ! bless the Lord for pardoning mercy. Being desirous of becoming a member of the visible church of Christ, and I' i 202 LIFE OF W. B. LiailTON. U:< i'i li , . »! iH' ■ !. 1H conceiving the Methodist doctrincd, and usages to be in strict accordanco with the principles of the gospel, I ofrerod myself, and was received into the class at Waterford, on probation, by the Rev. Chauncey llichardson. As I continued to study the way of salvation, and to meditate on the state of a perishing world, I felt a burning desire to warn poor sin- ners to "flee from the wrath to come." To do this, I punctually attended every moans of grace, and to the best of my ability, prayed and ex- horted, as opportunity offered ; in doing which, my soul was blest and encouraged. I was providentially called at one time to visit an aged gentleman and lady, who were both very near the liorders of the grave ; my labors with them were greatly blest, both to my soul and theirs. They were both awakened and led back to him from whom they had stray- ed. From these, and other circuu rtances, I was impressed with a conviction, that it was my duty to improve in public, but on considering my weakness and ignorance, I shrunk from the task ; nevertheless, my sincere desire was to know what was God's will concerning me, and that I was determined to do whatever it might be. In the month of February following, Mr. C. and myself parted by mutual agreement, and 1 left Waterford in search of new employment. By the Providence of God 1 was directed to Bradford, Vt. where I found employ for a while m the shop of Mr. Corliss. Presenting my certificate, I was received by the class in this \ LIFK OF W. B. LUIIITON. 203 flace, the first Sabbath ader my arrival. Here enjoyed many blessed privileges among my Christian brethren, especially in the family who employed me, the heads of which were sincere and devoted disciples of Jesus Christ. Among other advantages, I had admission to the town library, as my master was librarian, -and the books kept at his house. During my stay in this place, I was power- fully impressed again with the idea it was my duty to improve in public, and the more I re- sisted conviction^ the more powerful it became. I -accoiiElingly made it a matter of fervent prayer to God ; having done this, I disclosed my feel- ings to those with whom I became most ac- quainted, who said they thought it was my du- ty to go forward. Still I felt unwilling to do so, my talents were so small, though I knew that many able ministers of the gospel, whose talents now do honor to the church and them- selves, begun young and small as myself, but by a course of untiring study, and by the aid of grace divine, had risen to their present ce- lebrity and worth. Encouraged by these x:on- siderations, I divulged my feelings and views to the Rev. P. C. Richmond, who was preach- er in change, who also advised me to go for- ward and improve in exhortation, prayer, &c. He then furnished me with his written permis- sion to exercise as an exhorter, &c. I had now no excuse for refraining from du- ty, and accordingly app6inted a meeting in the village on a week day evening. When the ll I'. 1 M f 204 LIFE or VV. B. LTGIITON. M ) in m: if ill day arrived on which I was to attend my ap- pointment, the clorgyman of the congregational church called at the shop where I was at work, and ailer transacting his business with my em- ployer, turned to me and questioned me in a sarcastic manner about my preaching. lie told me I had better attend some theological institution before I attempted to preach ; and said many other thint^s to discourage me and prevent my going forward in duty. I was soTnc- what staggered at first, but after some little re- flection, determined to go forward, believing the grace of God in a warm heart to be a great- er assistance than all the learning of books and colleges, which however, I believe to be of great advantage, and important to a gospel minister. In the evening, with much trepidation, I en- tered the desk and spoke to a large and atten- tive congregation, from Mark x 17. "Good Master, what shall I do, that I may inherit eter- nal life?" The Lord was present and blessed me abundantly, and from that time to the pres- ent, I have continued to labor in the vineyard of my blessed Redeemer as faithfully as I could. In the month of may, 1827, I left my situa- tion at Bradford, and on the 2dth of the same month entered the employ of Mr. Stevens, on Sugar Hill, in the town of Lisbon, N. H. In this place I was in a measure deprived of the fellowship of my brethren, the Methodist, as there was no class within five miles. Howev- Fll. LIFE OP W. H. LFGIITDN. 205 er, I devoted myself to the duties which devol- ved upon me with the utmost punctuality, and having been admitted to full membership by the church at Lisbon, and had my conmiission, as an exhorter renowud, 1 went forward proclaim- ing the Lamb of God to all who came in my way. To increase my qualifications I applied myself to a systematic course of living, attend- ing my employ during my working hours with as much strictness as if I had been watched over by a task-master, and devoting every leis- ure moment I possessed to the improvement of my mind by study. To as'ist me [ procured a copy of Dr. A. Clarke's invaluable commen!n- ry, together with some other theological works from which I derived much valuable instruc- tion. I was also very reserved in my manner, so much so that doubtless I have given some oc- casion to think that I was scornful, but I can truly say, 1 was actuated by no other motive than a desire to prevent myself being led away by the example and conversation of the ungod- ly, by whom I was surrounded. This was doubly necessary from the fact that Mr. S. sold spirituous liquors, which drew into his shop ma- ny a wicked and profiine man, who, when the fumes of their drams had filled their brains, would talk over their grog-shop divinitij until I became disgusted with their conversation and manners. How often have 1 heard the debased drunkard, though poor and almost pennylessy talk in his drunken hours as thougli ho were a 1 1.' , u, fit m ill* i' i Si-!' 4 li Hi I' >." 206 LIFE OP W. B. LIGHTON. toealthy cUizeriy a. profound statesman or a devoted christian! What a miserable picture of cfe- pravity does a drunkard present! O, DRUNK- ARD ! if this should meet your eye, pause and reflect ; consider that by drunkenness you low' er yourself beneath the poor brute, whose labor furnishes you with the means of indulging your appetite. Think that you are murdering your poor soul, and ruining your family, if you have not done it already. Let conscience speak, and as she speaks, give ear, and turn your feet into the right way,and thou shalt save thy blood- bought soul from hell. O! may the happy day soon arrive when this " liquid ^rc," this " rfis- tilled damnation,^^ (for it deserves no better name) shall be banished into the Mivious deep, from whence may it never more return to intox- icate the brains of men ! As I was thus beset by profane characters, I could not refrain from administering a word of reproof sometimes, for which I often received additional vollies of oaths and imprecations, though ultimately it prevented some from swear- ing in my presence:* A^ded tothis, I was'persecuted'by -some be- cause I studied, which in their view, was in- consistent with the character of a minister of **' It chilis my blood to hear the blest Supreme Rudely appealed to on each trifling tlieme. Maintain your rank, vulgarity despise; To twear is neither bravey politt^ nor lotse. You would not swear upon a bed of death: Re/Iect! your Maker now could stop your breath." XIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. 207 the gospel, who, they thought ought to preach eniirehj by inspiration. It was reported that I had a large amount of prayer and sermon books, from which 1 committed to memory all my public improvements. This weak and fool- ish report soon met with the fate it deserved. 13ut though I was deprived of fellowship (ex- cept occasionally)\vith the members of my own church, 1 enjoyed many privileges among my Free-Will-Baptist brethren, who appeared to treat me with every mark of brotherly love, and whose affection I shall ever remember. But this love and affection at length became cold, as evidently appeared in a great many from their apparent disfellowship toward me, from what cause I knew not, unless it was they be- lieved the false reports my enemies had circula- ted respecting my having prayer and sermon books, from which 1 learned all my public im- provements. Any other cause 1 never was sensible of, as on the strictest investigation of my actions, I could discover nothing 1 had said or done which cuiild be a just cause of offence. These circumstances became a very serious trial to me ; they disquieted my mind ; robbed nie in a great measure of my happy enjoyments, and sometimes almost led me to believe there was no religion ; and while under them led me to dcs're to change my situation, and enter the married state, for I felt alone iind solitary. Amid the tlioutsands who surrounded me, 1 had no one into whose breast I could pour my woes and from whose sympathy I could derive en- \yC: ir ii 'i i/l 5 !«. Irt 1; 208 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. couragement, or with whom I couid claim kin- dred. With the poet I could say : * 'There are no friends nor fatliers here. Nor spouses kind to smile on me; A broUier's voice I cannot liear, A mother's form 1 never see; A sister's love I may not share, Whiie here in exije still { roam; O could I breathe my native air. Beneath that dear ancestral dome, I'd rest content, 'Till life was spent. No. seek abroad abettei* home." I also wrote again to my parents, stating to them my feelings and prospects, and expostula- ting with them for their neglect, as I supposed they had received my former letters, and from being offend-ed with me, refused to answer my epistles. This however, appeared ultimately not to be the case, as the reader will hereafter learn. During the passage of my letter I continued to improve my gift and to get "acquainted more extensively with the families around me. Among these families was that of Mr. N. Judd, who, though they were ranked among the medi- ocrity of the honest and industrious, were rich in faith and in the knowledge of divine things. My first acquaintance with this family was in the month of August, 1827, and in the month of April following, I was united in the bands of matrimony, with Susannah, their daughter. A few weeks previous to my marriage I was informed by a gentleman that there was a letter for me in the Post Office, and he concluded LIFE OF W. B. LmGHTON. 2' 09 from the superscription, as it was directed to North America, that it was from England. I Hastened to obtain it when it proved to be from my father, and as it may tend to give the read- er an idea of his feelings I will insert it. Frampton, Dec, 1st, 1827. My Dear Son : I received your letter, dated October 6th, 1827, and am very much surprised that you have not received any letter from me, which is the cause of your most unhappy com- plaint. I have received many letters from you, to which I have immediately sent answers. Your information that you have not received any since you left the Isle of Wight gives me but poor satisfaction. The cause of these fail- ures, is no doubt, owing to the great distance which separates us from each other, and my let- ters have probably been lost on the way. Dear Son, your request has been gratified, in that I have attentively perused your letter, and in the first place, I commend you to God, and pray earnestly that he may be your guide, protector, and redeemer ; that you may honor and fear him all your life ; be a useful and dig- nified member of society ; and eventually, that we may all meet in Heaven, where nothing shall separate us from that union and felicity which has been purchased for us by our blessed Redeemer. Let me also affectionately advise you, as you have escaped your unpleasant condition and situation for one of a more social and endear- ; ■< iHj, ; '(. i'M . i i- 210 LIFE OF W. B» LIGHTON. ing character, to preserve it with deep felt gratitude. Use every effort to make it agreea- ble to you, and be content in those fortunate circumstances in which Providence and the mer- cy of God have placed you. You will accept the ardent love and best wishes of your parents, and also the same sen- timent of respect from all the family. We should be glad to see you return to your native land, which may God grant. This leaves us all enjoying good health, except your mother, whose weak constitution obliges me to say, at times her health is very precarious. Your cousin James L ^-, of S., died about twelve months ago. Your brother J is no better of his lameness. May this find you in the en- joyment of health, and O may God be with m} transmarine son ! — and bless and save you in his heavenly kingdom, which is the prayer of, Dear Son. Your respected Father, WM. LIGHTON. The perusal of this letter had no small influ- ence on my feelings, and I regarded the con- veyance of njy letter as an act of God's good- ness towards me. It was the first time 1 had heard of my dear parents for seven years. The idetw that they no longer cared for my welfare was removed, and with it a load of sorrow. Since tha' period, I have, through the blessing of Providence, received two or three commu- nications every year from them, and nothing subsists between us but feelings of the most perfect friendship and affection. deep felt it agreea- fortunate ,nd the mer- e and best same sei> mily. We your native leaves us Dur mother, le to say, at ous. Your bout twelve is no better m in the en- i be with m} gave you in he prayer of, Pather, GHTON. ) small influ- fded the con- God's good- it time 1 had a years. The r my welfare id of sorrow, the blessing iree commu- and nothing of the most IkA: !!S, 'mir I ' M >t»i !: m' !i!vf .e;^ LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. 211 My term of hire having expired, I went to live with my wife's father, according to a pre- vious agreement ; and as he was advanced in hfe, and infirm in body, I took the farm, and agreed to support t!iem through life ; in addi- tion to which, I received ninety-six dollars a year from my father-in-law, granted to him by government, for a reward of his services during the revolution. In this situation, we lived in the most harmonious and happy manner; a perfect con- trast to the misery of my former days. Then, I was the subject of the most inexpressible hardships, doomed to bear the frowns of tyrants and the insults of cruel masters. Now, thanks to a merciful Proi^idence, I was free from my enemies, had a happy home, and enjoyed the best of all earthly comforts, a pious and godly ^jompanion, who was as dear to me as my own soul. Added !to this, I was amid friends,whoso generous kindness will ever endear them to my memory ; among neighbors who had a high regard for the things of God, and whose hearts were touched with a Saviour's love. These were blessings once foreign to my expectations, but now enjoyed in fond reality. O, what shall I render to God for all his goodness to- wards me. " Pii praise Inm while he lends me breath, And when my voice is lost in death, 'Praise fhall eniploymy nobler powers: My days of praise shall ne*er be past. While life, and thought, and being last. Or immortality endures. '* '>,_.. » J * i ', t ;■!:? ■11'^ f il i' r • i\ ^ 212 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. Mni ,'1 ..}. A few months after I wrote my answer to my father's first letter, I received the following from hira, which I beg leave to insert, as it breathes so much of t,he spirit of affection and love.* Framplon Eng. Od, 15, 1828. Dear Son : Your kind letter was received with great pleasure, and O! what inexpressi- ble joy I have had in perusing it, to find that your receive my lette»s at last, after the num- bers I have sent these seven years. It affords me much happiness to find you are enjoying good health, and also that you are married ; but above all it fills my soul with the greatest pos- sible satisfaction to hear that you love your God and Saviour, and feel a deep interest for his glo- ry, 0,may the Lord bless and preserve you unto his holy kingdom. As I am somewhat confi- dent you will receive this letter, I shall briefly state some things you no doubt will be glad to hear. I still live on the farm I did when you left me — have purchased the house and land ajoining. I also carry on the business of Coal- merchant. I have one yard at Wyberton, and one at Boston ; but I find it rather dificult to carry on business this year, owing to the dis- tressing state of things. I should like to accept your invitation • It is with much regret, that I am not able to give my let- ters with those of my father's. I vas not aware they would ever be needed ; consequently was not careful to retain the cop- ies; and ain therefore, onl^ abje lo give ." few of his. r. LIFE OF W. B. LlGllTON. 213 r answer to e following nsert, as it Tection and 15, 1828. as received inexpressi- to find that ter the nuin- It affords njoying good larried ; but orreatest pos- )ve your God st for his glo- 3rve you unto ewhat confi- shall briefly /ill be glad to lid when you ise and land ness of Coal- ryberton, and ler dificult to 12 to the dis- )ur invitation jle to give my let- rtware they would to retain the cop- w of his. and emigrate to America, but my home^ my nalive Isle has a chann^ almost too powerful to admit of a seperaton, in this mv advanced stage of life. As yet, I know not hxj>v I shall act. I am not able to determine, at present, so as to give you a satisfactory answer, but return you my sincere thanks for your tenderness towards me. England,! think, is reducing very fast, Banks are failing in many parts of the country, in consequence of which, and the drouth of 1826, many respectable farmers are reduced to a state of b' jgary, and the country presents but a dis- ma» scene of wretchedness. Dear Son : I wish you would write often, and give me every account of America you can, as I am anxious to hear. Let me know how you are situated, and how far you are from Boston, New York, and Philadelphia. In closing this, I commend yon to Aknighty God, who aloneas able to watch over and bring you to his kingdom. O, may he bless and en- lighten you as to your duty, that you may live a devoted and useful life. We are all well, and all join in giving our love to you, and your dear wife and her relatives,praying if we should never meet each other on earth, we may be so unspeakably happy as to meet in heaven, to re- ceive a crown of glory, v/here we may mingle our friendly souls in praising God forever, through Jesus Christ. I am, dear son, your very affectionate father, W3I LIGHTON- 20* ^ ',\ \ y- 214 LIFE OF W. B. LIGUTON. mi Having attended to improve my talent as an exhorter for about two years, — with the advice of my brethren, I at length obtained license to preach, as a local preacher, at a quarterly meeting conference, holden at Lisbon, April 25th, 1829, signed in behalf of the conference, by the Rev. John I^rd, Presiding Elder From this renewal of my commission, I felt the solemn importance of honoring it to the glory of God. O, may he forbid that I should be slack in warnmg the wicked *^ to flee the wrath to come !" Save me, O Lord from every prin- ciple of error, from the love of the world, and every thing else that cannot bear to be tested by thy holy word, and by the things of eternity. After receiving my license as a pieacher, I wrote to my parents, in which I acquainted them with my calling, as a gospel minister, &c. The following is their answer, which I received in the month of December, following : Frampton, near BosloUy Aug, 8, 1829. Drarlt Beloved Son : I beganto think the timei^long since I received a letter from you ; but theiime has arrived in which I have receiv- ed yours : h came to hand Aug. 7th, 1829. Nothing gives me more satisfaction than to hear &om you ; believe me my son, when I say it is a happiness I enjoy above every other pleas- ure of the world. Yes, thank God, I can now retire to my closet, and hold converse with my dutiful son, while I read your epistle, Q, what a delightful hour ! How much I am obligated r;' LIFE OF W. B. LIUIITON. 215 to praise the Lord who has permitted me to see this moment. The pleasure I have received from perusing your kind letter, has animated and filled my soul with such exquisite happi- ness, as words cannot express. And why all this joy and gratitude ? but because I have rea- son to believe my Jong lost son is found ;.that you love God and the way of life, and salvation; but above all, that you are favored, by God 'a blessing and mercy, the privilege of preaching the gospel of the Son of God. O, this is too much for~a fatlier to bear ! So thoughtless was you. about your soul before, and so regardless of friendly advice, and leaving the bosom of friends and home, as you did, who can help re- joicing ? Ah ! who could ever thought of such a charge ? Truly, "with God all things are possible." With this feeling of soul, I eagerly clasp my pen to communicate with you, in the form of a letter, and hasten to lose no time in so pleasing an employ. I have much to say by way of en- couragement to you, but I cannot express my- self Let me advise you to be humble ; abstain from every thing that does not bear the impress of that blessed gospel you profess to preach. Live near to God, and then I have no fears concerning your prosperity and usefulness. I shall now commence giving you a summa- ry of the unhappy state of your native land, which T have no doubt you will be anxious to know. England is indeed in a suffering sittia- tion; so much so, that I cannot help contrasUng fn 1i. [« ^r^i»*.h>ii-.y.aii':t;-iwt».v.- , 216 LIFE or W. B. LIGIITON. Ml J J i\ r !;' n i)^' her once happy state to her present deplorable wretchedness. She once enjoyed more pleas- ure than any Kingdom in Europe, and was the garden of the universe, the place of civilization und arts, whose manufacturies would allow no rival, and whose ships spread their sails over the whole four quarters of the globe. Her wealth was stupcTidouSj and her people happy. The peasantry of England, who were once the glory and pride of the nation, are now sunk into the lowest state of poverty ; they are indeed the most miserable of men ; they are turned into paupers and beggars. By what ? By the in- supportable and heavyweight of TAXATION. Their hearts have sunk under the oppressive burden, that they are no more, and will be no more,except some speedy remedy is on foot. So oppressive is the present state of things that there has been more burglaries and rob- beries committed than ever man remembered, which arises chiefly from TAXATION, that " dead weight.^^ The farmers are paying high rents, and parish rates become so high that they can scarce be said to live. England can never prosper, as it has done, so long as taxar honand PAUPERISM prevails in the land. Other countries have got its mode of manufac- turing, and are in consequence thereof, less burdened with that destructively " dead weight,^'' so that they can bring their goods to England and have a renumerative profit. Such my son, is the deplorable situation of the unhappy £n- glisman. As for my part, I am in a prosperous i:ili LIFK OF >V. IJ. M(;HT()N. 217 situation, for which I thank Cod ; but I feel for the laborer, his situation xa 8o extremely critical that it claims tlio sympathy of every christian and pliilanthr()[)ist. We are paying about two hundred pounds per cent TAXA- 'i'lON, and the inlcrcst of ihc nai'wnal chbt is about one pound five shillinfis per second, (or ^5^60.) *] his, my dear son, is bad news of our country. May the Lord save us from the dreadful evils which threaten us ! But I must close after acquainting you with the state of the family. We are all enjoying good health, which to me is a blessing I cannot be too thankful for. I wish you, and all yours, may be enjoying the same good. Your broth- ers and sisters respect you as very dear to them, and hope you will accept their humble tribute, which is their undivided love. Present also, the same endearing sentiment to your dear com- panion, whom they respect as their worthy and beloved sister. Also accept our love and make it acceptable to our daughter ( your wife) and every member of your family. Mr. and Mrs. B send you their kind respects. The wor- thy and respected John Y , Ksq. has gone the way of all the earth. He died on the 8th of May last, after a severe illness. He was beloved in his life, and lamented in his death, by all his parishoners, and I believe has gone to live with him who is King of kings and Lord of lords. Please write immediately. And now may the God of peace be with you, '*;i 218 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. :.!;^ and remain with you, and keep you from all danger through Jesus Christ our Lord. I remain your most affectionate father, WM. LIGHTON. The contents of this letter filled me with the highest concern for the general happiness of my father, and his family, that I wrote him an impressive letter, addressing him upon the sub- ject of emigrating to this country, and urged him most vehemently not to delay, but to pro- ceed forthwith as soon as convenient. One of his letters in answer to this subject is as fol- lows :— Frampton, Oct. SUt, 1831. My Dear Son : I received your most grate- ful and intelligent letter, dated July 10th, and am truly enamored with your simplicity and kind treatment. It breathes a sincerity, too powerful to be doubted, that fills me with true parental affection, and sincere respect to a lov- ing and dutiful son, now in a transmarine state. % # # # m # * I receive your kind invitation with warm emotion, and should like to come to America, to pass the rest of my life with you in your FREE REPUBLICAN country,where peace and retirement alone can be found, to refresh and relieve the sons of suffering oppression. But my son, the thought of leaving home, and friendsjto traverse the ocean jin quest of a more free country, at this age of my life, might be probably an imprudent step. I know not what LIFE OF W. B. LTGHTON. 219 to say any further upon tlie subject, but would give you my hearty thanks, for your kind invi- tation, and pray the Lord he may, by his divine influence, bring us to heaven, where waves and billows shall no more rise between us, to ob- struct us from the enjoyment of our beloved, fraternity. # # # * # # • Your most affectionate father, WM. LIGHTON. Finding my letter did not have its desired effect, except that it put him to thinking upon the subject, I wrote again upon the same sub- ject, and received the following : Frampton Sept. 2c2, 1833^. Affectionate So>f : Through the blessing; of God, we received your important communi- cation, dated April 24th, 1833. Your argu- ment for me to come over to you, is very strong and- sincere,. but I cannot at present, determine so as to give you any decisive satisfaction about the subject. Yet, let me tell you, my dear son, the ties of parental affection are so strong as almost, at times, to induce me to re- solve upon the undertaking. I should be ve;y happy to see you all, and to enjoy sweet solace, and end my days in your free and happy coun- try, and in the bosom of an affectionate and grateful son, but the distance seems too far, and the journey accomj)anied with a degree of mental anxiety and danger, which are the only difficulties which seem to prevent that happy M ■'» i! 1!; J 220 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. m E' ' meeting, which would be accompanied with all the feelings of a true philanthropist. * # # Our country is progressing in oppression and wretchedness, which almost induces me to be- lieve its fate is fixed. The reform b:U has prov- ed a dead letter, at least at present ; and in consequence of this failure, the people have turned a deaf ear to all the plans of reforma- tion. What will be the consequence I know not, but I fe.. it will result in a bloody contest. May the Lord have mercy upon us, and deliver us from the evil. We are all in sentiment as usual, and enjoying good health. Accept our love and best wishes. Write at every oppor- tunity. And may the propitious smiles of our heavenly Father attend you, and your beloved family forever, which is the prayer of Dear Son, your most affectionate and honored father, WM. LIGHTON. About the time I wrote to my father last, I suffered by an unfortunate circumstance, and lost the greater part of my property. It might be well to give some minute particulars,relative to the circumstance. I had lived in my mar- ried state between five and six years, in the most happy and contented manner, during which time, we were blest with three children, a son and two daughters. As I was located where my trade w?is of but little service, and feeling disposed to devote myself more exclu LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. 221 sively to it, I concluded to sell my farm, and establish myself where it would be of value. I succ*»eded in selling my place to a Mr. M'Bain Jameson, who had ever been one of the most upright of men, and having no apprehension of his dishonesty, I confidently reposed my property in his hands, without any other securi- ty than his notes. Knowing he had obtained the command of my farm, he was influenced by some poor, r.iserable, and notorious wretches, to sell it and leave the country. He did so, and in consequence, out of seven hundred dol- lars, the price of my farm, I lost five hundred and twenty-five. He proceeded with his family to the West, where, for aught I know, he is at present. This I j'runate circumstance threw me into deep troaj»e, and was like a cloud over my mind, darkening my prospects. However, by the grace of God,I was able to pursue a course, which tended to promote my welfare in every respect. Although I was somewhat involved, I can say, to the honor of my creditors, they never injured so much as a hair of my head. Truly, the Lord is merciful and good, in that he overrules every thing for my peace. I do truly pity the man who was the cause of my misfortune, and those who influenced him, for, with all their gain, I am better oft' than they, for I possess a conscience clear from guilt. My prayer to God is, that they may repent of the evil they have done, and be saved. 21 *■ ', ii: 5 . < : : I u : 1111 ii NJ h l\ i \ ^ ; ■i: ■' l '"II h/a*a^tt5M|!;HII ; i': ^•' ^Jlji i i'! ' ^'/l 222 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. In fhe 'ensuing fall, I hired a house in the town c Landaif, abcut five miles from my for- mer residence, where, by the smiles of a kind and indul' nt Providence,! have been blessed, far beyor my expectations^ with food and rai- ment, ar what is better than all, with spiritual prosperity. Truly, my trouble has been sancti- fied : I have been taught the fallacy of earthly goods, and led to trust in him who is a well spring of life, and whose resources can never fail. Thus, dear reader, I have presented you with a plain, unvarnished detail of the events of my life, hoping, that if you are still the subject of parental govornment, or in a state of nonage, you will be oareful how you treat lightly the ad- vice of your parents. Let all my difficulties, act as beacons to you. O, beware of folly ! '* Shun every appearance of evil." Give your heart to God. " In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will direct your paths." Pov. iii.6. I rejoice that I am permitted to close this narrative on my birth-day ! Thirty years have rolled over my head ! They are gone forever ! OjWhat wondersGod has wrought for me,through these thirty years of my life . I have had my lot of sufferings, and difficulties, from the hands of wicked and unfeeling men. I have felt their frowns and their wrath ; but God has interpos- ed, rescued, and saved me from my impend- ing fate, and brought me to a land of liberty and peace ; and has given me affectionate and dear friends. Truly God has been my refuge, a LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. 223 present help in time of trouble ; and unworthy as I am, I will trust in him evermore. It will not be long before I shall sleep the sleep of death. O, that 1 may have my Saviour in my heart, and that my God may sustain me in a dying hour ; and grant me a triumphant resurrection to a glorious immortality. O, may I, while 1 live on the earth, live to the glory of my blessed Master. May I ever be dutiful, and labor for the salvation of precious, immor- tal souls. May the Lord " so teach me to num- ber my days that I may apply my heart unto wisdom." "A few more fleetmg years, and what a change ! — What new scenes will break in upon our ravished vision ! If I live, I shall see changes ! When I die — and die I must, I shall see as I am 2cen,and know as I am known, by the inhabitants of a world of Spirits : and O, what a change ! to be an inhabitant of a world of Spirits !" « Thou must expire, my soul, ordaifi^d to range Through unexperienc\l scenes, and mystVies strange: Dark the event, and disma] the exchange. But wlien compellM to leave this House of clay. And to an unknown somewliere, wing thy way; When time shall be eternity, and thou Shalt be, thou know'st not what, nor where, nor how» Trembling and pale, what wilt ihou see or do*? Amazing state! — No wonder tlvat we dread The thoughts of death, or faces of the dead: His black retinue, sorely strikes our mind ; Sickness and pain before, and darkness all beliiiid. Some courteous gltost, the secret then reveal; Tell us what you have felt, and we must feel. You warn ua of approaching death, and why ?! 224 LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTON. -■!i' f: ill Will you not tev-^cli us what it is to diel But having shot ihe gulph, you love to view Succeeding spii^t.i, pUinged along lik , you; Nor lend a friendly hand to guide them through. When dire disease shall cut, or age untie The knot of '-^ and suffer us to die; When after b : delay, some tremoling strife. The soul star, quiv'ring on the ridge of iitie; With Fear a:id hope she throbs, then curious tries Some strange hereafter, and some hidden skies. "-iVbrfit. " But O, if I am prepared for such a change, how delightful it will be to awake from death — to be immortal, and live forever ; — to be umong immortals — to renew those associations with dear relatives and friends, which have been suspended for a season. I can carry no tidings thither, for the affairs of this word are known to disembodied spirits. I can look around me for relatives and friends, and those refined principles of the soul, of love and joy, will there be renewed, and enjoyed forever. O, happy, happy region of boundless bliss ! There will be no changing then of time : it wiii b*? eternity. O, E-T-E-R-N-I-T-Y ! that dread- ful pleasing thought ! I shall be immortal ! But shall I possess a crown of life? He;j rests the awful pause ! A crown of life ! My God, O, thou eternal and everlasting Father ; hear thou a sinner's prayer ; lead me by thy good spirit, and so sustain me in my course, that I may find my all in thee, both in time and in eternity." And now, before I conclude, let me ask the reader, what are thy prospects beyond the grave ? O ! what are thy hopes? Hast thou LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. 225 a well grounded hope of a blessed immortality, and that all is well between thee and thy Ma- ker ; or art thou still in thy sins, an enemy to God bv wicked works ? If thou art, is it not high time for thee to bethink thyself on thy condition,and prepare thyself for the great event of thy life. Think, O think, how soon thou wilt have to leave this short, transitory scene of existence ! A few years, at the fartherist, and then all will be over with thee here, and then thou must appear a naked, unembodied spirit, at the awful bar of the august Majesty of heaven, to answer for thy conduct. O, let me urge thee to fly to Christ ; he is thy only Saviour and sure friend. Have faith in his merits. — Be deeply humble. — Live in view of Eternity, and in the solemn consequences of that vast and trying scene. Remember that if you neglect to walk in the commands of God you will be damned forever. -Be wise, nor make Heaven's highest blessing vengeance; O be wise! Nor inakf; a curse of immortality ! Say, kuowest thou what it is, or what thou art; Knowest thou the importance of a soul immortall Behold this midnight glory: worlds on worlds! Amazing pomp ; redouble this amaze ! Ten thousand add; add twice ten thousand more; Then weigh the whole ; one soul outweighs tliem all» And calls the astonishing magnificence Of unintelligent creation poor.' Let thy soul bathe itself in the blessed Sa- viour, ii , i 31 # iMmt ! u !,l 226 LIFE OF W. B. LIGIITON. "Sink into the purple flood, Rise to all the life of God." Seek and retain his sacred image in thy heart, and live on him by holy, conquering, irresista- ble faith ; and so shall thou be saved in heav- en. Let me advise thee to a constant and prayer- ful perusal of the holy Scriptures, — acquaint thyself with thcai as thou wouldst thy chart, wast thou lost, and exposed to perilous dangers on the boisterous deep. Renriember the Bible is the star of eternity, a chart, to guide thy frail bark into the haven of eternal rest. Make it the constant book of thy life. ' iVIost wondrous book ! bright candle of the Lord! Star of eternity! the only star ,By which the bark of man could navisate The seu of life, and gain the coast of blisg Securely ; only star which rose on time. And, on its dark and troubled billows, still As generation threw a ray Of Heaven's own light, and to the hills of Qod, The everlasting hills, pointed the Sinner's eye I "With holy faith and prayer, Read God*ii Word once, and you can read no more; For all books else appear so mean, so poor; Verse will seem prose; but still persist to read. And God's Word will he all the books you need.* Tfever lay it aside because thou hast read it over and over, or because it may not be alto- gether so congenial with thy natural views and feelings ; but persist in thy acquaintance with it, with sincere prayer to God that thou mayest fully understand it aright. . 'iUJ 1 r. thy heart, r, irresista- sd in heav- ind prayer- — acquaint t thy chart, )us dangers 5r the Bible guide thy rest. Make r the Lord! gate bliM me, I, Btill ills of God, ner»» eye I I read no more; )poor; 8t to read, loki you need. hast read it not he alto- :al views and lintance with thou maye«t LIFE OF W. B. LIGHTOi'. 227 The Holy Scriptures are of indispensible use to thee, as they teach thee every thing relative to thy salvation, and of thy duty while a probationer here below. Let the dear read- er therefore, *