REESE LIBRARY 
 
 01 IHt 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORh 
 
 l\.t i ei < t d. 
 Accessions No. 1-4- % ^ 
 
 
MEMOIRS 
 
 OP 
 
 ANDREW SHERBlTRtfE: 
 
 fi? s ~Sii^ 
 
 * nv TWR 
 
 WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. 
 
 " Thy that go clown to the sea in ships, that do business in 
 great waters ; they see the works of the LORD, and his wonders 
 la the deep." Psalmist. 
 
 SECOND EDITION, 
 
 ENLARGED AND IMPROVED. 
 
 H. M. BROWN.... MARKET-SQUARE 
 "1831." 
 
Northern District of New-York, to wit : 
 
 BE IT REMEMBERED, That on the twenty-sixth day of Atr- 
 gust, in the fifty-third yeai of the Independence of the United 
 States of Ameiica, A. D, 1828, Andrew Sherburne, of the sai) 
 district, hath deposited in this office the title of a book, the right 
 whereof he claims as author, in the words following, to wit ; 
 
 Memoirs of Andrew Sherburne, a pensioner of the navy of the 
 revolution. Written by himself. " They that go down to the sea 
 in ships, that do business in great waters ; they see the ^vorks of 
 the LORD, and his wonders in the deep." PSALMIST. 
 
 In conformity to the act of the Congress of the United States, 
 entitled, "An act for the encouragement, of learning, by securing 
 the copies of Maps, Charts, and Books to the authors and proprie 
 tors of such copies, during the times therein mentioned j" and 
 also, to the act entitled, "An act supplementary to an act entitled 
 An act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies 
 of Maps, Charts, and Books to the authors and proprietors of such 
 copies during the times therein mentioned, and extending the 
 benefits thereof to the arts of Designing, Engraving and Etching, 
 historical and other prints." 
 
 RICHARD R. LANSING, 
 
 Clerk of the District Court of the United States, for the 
 Northern District of JVete- York. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 THERE are yet surviving a few, and but a 
 few, who lived, acted and suffered in the Rev 
 olution which gave freedom, independence 
 and prosperity to the United States of Amer 
 ica. And a very large majority of that few 
 have gone by three score years and ten. They 
 are bending beneath the weight of years and 
 early sufferings. 
 
 Their thin locks are whitened by the frosts 
 of seventy, and some by more than eighty 
 winters, and are " dragging the poor remains 
 of life along the tiresome road." A few of 
 them are in affluent circumstances others 
 are sustained by their children and friends 
 some are partially provided for by govern 
 ment, and some are in indigent circumstan 
 ces. 
 
 But the number is very fast diminishing ; a 
 little while and the American people will 
 look round in vain to find an individual who 
 personally acted in the Revolution. The au 
 thor of this narrative is in the junior class of 
 the survivors of the Revolution, as he was 
 only ten years of age when the conflict be 
 gan, and entered the naval service, at the 
 age of thirteen. The complicated charac 
 ter of his trials, arid sufferings in the United 
 States navy his capture and forcible de 
 tention in the British navy-^shipvvreck and 
 
IT PREFACE. 
 
 sufferings in a wilderness in Newfoundland, 
 in prison ships and hospital ships, were almost 
 unparalleled. 
 
 Many years since he was solicited by gen 
 tlemen of literature and taste, to give his nar 
 rative to the public ; but his limited educa 
 tion, diffidence of his own abilities to write, 
 and in a word his poverty and shattered con 
 stitution, rendered the thought so appalling, 
 that he shrank from the task. It was never 
 theless his intention (if he could find time 
 before death should call for him) to leave 
 in manuscript some detail of his extraordi 
 nary conflicts, and especially of the marvel 
 ous interpositions of the Lord of Sabbaoth in 
 preserving his life amidst distresses, dan 
 gers, and death, and giving him a hope oi 
 eternal life and immortal glory through the 
 merits of Jesus Christ. 
 
 It is aptly expressed that " Procrastina 
 tion is the thief of time." More than three 
 score years passed away before he commenc 
 ed the task; nor then, until the thought oc 
 curred that he might realize some emolu 
 ments by its publication, the prominent 
 object, doubtless, of most authors. 
 
 He was at the same time aware of the 
 apparent indelicacy of a person s publishing 
 his auto-biography. Such a thought proba 
 bly would be revolting to some persons of 
 virtue and refined taste, while possessing 
 competence, who, if reduced to poverty. 
 
PREFACE, V 
 
 with a dependant and helpless family, would 
 dispense with their (possibly) false delicacy, 
 for necessity has no law. 
 
 Anterior to publishing his first edition, he 
 was confident that there were thousands of 
 citizens who would most cheerfully patronize 
 his work. It had been his hard fortune, in 
 the war of the Revolution, to become a cap 
 tive three times, and each time to travel home 
 an absolute beggar. 
 
 In his anticipations he has not been disap 
 pointed. Numerous gentlemen and ladies 
 have bought and read his book, and have 
 paid him so much of a compliment as to say, 
 that they considered it an interesting narra 
 tive, and well deserving patronage. It has 
 introduced him to many families of distinc 
 tion, arid procured for him many affectionate 
 and warm-hearted friends among strangers. 
 
 Those gratuitous tokens and expressions 
 of friendship, together with the sympathies 
 exhibited, have gone far to revive his droop 
 ing spirits, while buffeting, in advanced life, 
 the inclemencies of three tedious winters, 
 far distant from his family. 
 
 He is at a loss for language to express his 
 grateful sense of obligations to those ladies 
 and gentlemen who have patronized his first 
 edition. He can only say, that it has been, 
 is now, and shall be his prayer to God, that 
 they and theirs may never want any good 
 thing. And most fervently does he pray 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 that the Americans as a nation may properly 
 appreciate the freedom which they enjoy, 
 while they learn the price of its purchase, 
 and that they may be a virtuous, united 
 and happy people, sustained and protected 
 by the arm of Omnipotence. 
 
 In disposing of his first edition, the author 
 has travelled South into the State of Virgin 
 ia, East to Maine, and West to Ohio. To 
 his second edition he has added the most 
 interesting events of the last three years of 
 his life, in these long journeys ; and now 
 presents the public with this edition, be 
 ing confident that as yet he has offered his 
 little book to but few of those patriotic citi 
 zens who would most freely patronize the 
 work. 
 
 As in the providence of God, the Author 
 has been denied the advantages of an edu 
 cation, he makes no pretensions to elegance 
 of style or diction; but with all due defer 
 ence submits his humble performance to the 
 public. 
 
 ANDREW SHERBURNE. 
 Augusta, Oncida County, N. Y. March. 1831. 
 
CERTIFICATES. 
 
 Whereas the Rev. Andrew Sherburne, our worthy 
 brother and fellow-laborer in the gospel, contemplates 
 making a journey, with his family, to remove into the 
 south western regions of this country, to reside; in order 
 that he may meet with that reception among Christians, 
 to which his character and office entitle him; the under 
 signed beg leave to represent, that he has for fifteen 
 years past maintained a respectable standing in the 
 New-Hampshire Baptist Association, as pastor of the 
 Baptist church in Arundel; and as far as our information 
 extends, is deemed faithful and well established in doc 
 trine, whom we esteem highly in love, as a Christian 
 brother and a minister of Christ; and as such, we would 
 recommend him to all who love our Lord Jesus Christ in 
 sincerity. 
 
 SIMON LOCK, 
 Pastor of the church in Li/man. 
 
 ABNER FLANDERS, 
 Pastor of the Baptist church in Buxton. 
 
 JOSHUA ROBERTS, 
 Pastor of the Baptist church in East parish of Wells. 
 
 TIMOTHY HUDSON, 
 Pastor of the church in Hollis. 
 Hollis, August 21st, 1818. 
 
 This and the three following Certificates were given to the Au 
 thor, while on his journey from the State of Ohio to Maine. 
 Washington city, House of Representatives, Feb.%8, 1823. 
 The Rev. Andrew Sherburne, the bearer of this, is wor 
 thy the confidence of the friends of Zion, and esteem of 
 his fellow-citizens generally. Twenty years acquain 
 tance, has proved him an undeviating friend. I most cor 
 dially sympathize with him in his troubles, having per 
 formed those services in the revolutionary war, which 
 entitle him to respect. 
 
 MARK HARRIS. 
 
Vlll CERTIFICATES. 
 
 TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN. 
 
 The subscriber has seen the credentials of the Rev. 
 Andrew Sherburne, and has, otherwise, had an opportu-* 
 nity of becoming acquainted with his character. He be 
 lieves Mr. Sherburne to be a brother deserving the affec 
 tionate and respectful regards of the churches. Mr. 8. 
 will, himself communicate the story of his sufferings du 
 ring the revolutionary war, and his subsequent toils in 
 the service of his country. His necessities are real and 
 imperious, and it is hoped the patriot and the Christian 
 will alike contribute to his assistance. 
 
 WM. STAUGHTON. 
 
 Philadelphia, April 11, 1823. 
 
 Having seen the Rev. Mr. Sherburne s testimonials, 
 and being personally and fully satisfied with his piety 
 and good character, I do most cordially coincide with 
 the Rev. Dr. Staughton in the foregoing certificate and 
 just recommendation. 
 
 WM. ROGERS. 
 
 Philadelphia, April 15, 1823. 
 
 I cheerfully add my testimony in favor of the Rev- 
 Mr. Sherburne s character to the foresfoing, and recom 
 mend him to the charitable consideration of the opulent 
 and benevolent. 
 
 JEDEDIAH MORSE. 
 
 New Haven, June 12, 1823. 
 
 MEMOIRS OF ANDREW SHERBURNE. 
 
 " I have attentively perused the Memoirs of Andrew 
 Sherburne, a pensioner of the navy of the Revolution. 
 Publications of this description, though they may not 
 challenge admiration by elegance of style or diction, still 
 deserve the notice of Americans. 
 
 The actors in our Revolutionary struggle, have, with 
 a few exceptions, gone i the way of all the earth. Many 
 interesting details relative to the period that tried men s 
 souls, must necessarily perish with those who witnessed 
 them. An attempt to preserve from oblivion, facts which 
 show the interposition of the Lord of Sabbaoth, in favor 
 
CERTIFICATE.*:. IX 
 
 of the oppressed, and the unconquerable firmness of 
 those who fought in the great cause of freedom and of 
 man, cannot be uninteresting to the pious and the free. 
 1 recommend the work to the perusal of our citizens, and 
 its aged, war-worn author to the kindness of all who be 
 lieve that a debt of gratitude is still due to the veterans 
 of the Revolution. 
 
 N. N. WHITING, 
 Pastor of the Baptist church, Vernon. 
 Vernon, Aug. 5, 1828. 
 
 I have read the above work with considerable interest. 
 The author has written in a spirit of moderation and pie 
 ty worthy of imitation. 
 
 I consider Mr. Sherburne and his work, as entitled to 
 the patronage of all Americans. 
 
 N. WILLIAMS, 
 
 Judge of the Circuit Court, State N. Y. 
 Utica, Nov. 12, 1828. 
 
 We fully concur in the opinion above expressed by 
 Mr. Whiting and Judge Williams, and most cheerfully 
 recommend the work to the patronage of a liberal and 
 enlightened public. 
 
 S. C. AIKIN, 
 
 Pastor of the first Prcs. church, Utica. 
 WILLIAM WILLIAMS. 
 
 The following editorial notice of this work appeared in the 
 New- York Baptist Register, conducted by A. M. Beebee, Esq. on 
 the 7th November, 18*28, which may be recorded as the fair ex 
 pression of those who have read the book. 
 
 " We have read with deep interest The Memoirs of 
 Andrew Sherburne, a pensioner of the navy of the Rev 
 olution, published by William Williams, Utica, and re 
 commend it to the patronage of the community. It is the 
 plain and simple narration of the life of one who commenc 
 ed while a youth, in our Revolutionary struggle, and en 
 dured with the fortitude of a man, most extraordinary per- 
 ils and sufferings, displaying a purity of patriotism to be 
 admired, even in a veteran. Its interest is not a little 
 
X CERTIFICATES. 
 
 enhanced, from the circumstance of the author having 
 been, not only a Revolutionary hero, but subsequently a 
 Christian, and also a Christian minister. Private indi 
 viduals are overlooked in the glare of attraction which 
 surrounds the great. The officers and great men, who 
 have figured in contests for national glory, give you in 
 a general mass only, the privates whose labors have se 
 cured their fame, while those who have commanded in 
 the fight, have been individually selected for the laurel. 
 Those who have shared in doing and suffering for their 
 country, deserve grateful recollections. But few, in 
 common rank, have told the history of either. Humility 
 on the one hand, and stinted acquirements on the other, 
 have disqualified them for the task. In the present in 
 stance, however, we are presented with the Memoirs of 
 one in an humble station, during the trying period of 
 America s strife, who acquired the ability to write the 
 history of his woes, while a captive for his country in Mill 
 prison, in England. The narration, though unpretend 
 ing, is marked with much good sense, and purity of style; 
 and the incidents which it unfolds cannot fail to interest 
 every true American, and also all such as love the gospel 
 of Christ. The price of the work is one dollar, and who, 
 that has the sum to spare, would not cheerfully pay it to 
 relieve the declining years of a veteran of the Revolu 
 tion?" 
 
 The following editorial notice of the above named work, is from 
 the Utica Intelligencer of 7tli October, 1828, by E. S. Ely, Esq. 
 
 " We have been much pleased in the perusal of a part 
 of the volume with the above title. The style is easy 
 and familiar, and the narration contains a circumstantial 
 account of several voyages made during the interesting 
 period of the Revolution, the writer s treatment when 
 confined in Mill prison, at Plymouth, in England, and 
 his sufferings on board the Jersey prison ship, from which 
 he was discharged at the peace of 17813. Mr. Sher- 
 burne has been for a number of years a reputable minis 
 ter of the Baptist church. He is a pensioner, and of 
 course in circumstances far from affluent, and we hope 
 his book will be patronized, not only as an entertaining 
 
CERTIFICATES. XI 
 
 auto-biography, abounding with uncommon incidents, 
 but from regard to one whose services and pecuniary 
 circumstances recommend him to favor," 
 
 The following communication Nvas designed to have a place 
 among the recommendations of the work spoken of in it; and 
 though not received in time for that purpose, we think proper, 
 even now, to lay it before the public. 
 
 MR. WM. WILLIAMS, 
 
 g|R, Understanding that you are about to publish 
 the Life of Rev. Andrew Sherburne, written by himself, 
 I think it my duty to communicate to you some of my 
 thoughts respecting the work. 
 
 When Mr. Sherburne first consulted me on the expe 
 diency of having it published, 1 felt apprehensive that 
 it would be unsaleable, and occasion to him, rather a bur 
 then than a benefit; and consequently di&suaded him 
 from the undertaking. He urged me to look into the 
 manuscript, Reluctantly I complied; and had read but 
 a few pages, when my attention became fixed, and I re 
 gretted that I had not time to read it through before he 
 called for it. I read, however, the account of his ad 
 ventures and sufferings during the Revolutionary War, 
 to the time of his release from confinement on board the 
 JERSEY. My opinion on the expediency of printing it 
 became decidedly reversed. I am persuaded that, if 
 published, it will be perused and read with great avidity 
 by various classes of American citizens. It gives a more 
 circumstantial detail of the sufferings and deliverances of 
 our naval prisoners, during the Revolutionary conflict, 
 than I have seen in any other book, and in connexion 
 therewith serves greatly to illustrate the minute and won 
 derful operations of Divine Providence. Upon the whole, 
 though in a plain style, it is a very interesting story; 
 and exhibits a character, in several respects extraor 
 dinary. 
 
 Wherefore, as the author is now old and poor, and 
 has a dependant family, I do most cordially wish that the 
 book may be published, and that it may receire deserted 
 patronage; which will, in some measure, remunerate 
 his past toils, and supply his present wants. Indeed, 
 
XU CERTIFICATES. 
 
 whether his youthful and faithful services in the cause 
 of his country, be recollected, or whether he be consid 
 ered as an aged and needy disciple and minister of 
 Christ, where is the American patriot or the sympathet 
 ic Christian, that would refuse to give a dollar for a 
 copy of his book ? 
 
 Respectfully yours, 
 
 WILLIAM PARKINSON, 
 Pastor of first Baptist church, N. York. 
 New-York, July 12, 1827. 
 
 From my personal acquaintance with Rev. Mr. Sher- 
 burne, and from the interesting character of his biog 
 raphy, as far as opportunity has been afforded to peruse 
 the M. S. I do most cordially unite in the preceding 
 recommendation. 
 
 SPENCER II. CON*;, 
 Pastor of Oliver-street Baptsit churchy N. York. 
 
MEMOIRS 
 
 OP 
 
 ANDREW SHERBURNE, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 "The Author s birth and parentage at the agfi of seven 
 years left his father s house Londonderry Mrs. 
 Bell, an Irish Presbyterian lady -^-her piety the Au 
 thor $ first religious impressions through her instruc 
 tions public excitement at the commencement of the 
 revolution the Authors jirst cruise, on board the. 
 Ranger , at the age of thirteen* 
 
 MY ancestors, both on my father s and mother s side, 
 were from England, My father could trace hi spedigree 
 back to one of the earliest settlers of Portsmouth, New 
 Hampshire. Within my remembrance many persons cf 
 the name of Sherburne, were inhabitants of Portsmouth, 
 and especially of the plain, called Sherburne s plain. The 
 only family, however, now on the plain, is that, of Capt. 
 Joseph Sherburne, my uncle s son. He is of the sixth 
 or seventh generation of that name who have held the 
 same farm in succession. My father, Andrew Sher 
 burne, was the son of Deacon John Sherburne, of Ports 
 mouth. My mother was Susannah Knight, the eldest 
 daughter of George Knight, of Kittery, Maine- He died 
 at Cape Breton, in Sir William Pepperell s expedition, 
 in the year 1745, leaving three infant daughters, Susan 
 nah, my mother, Mary, who became the wife of Capt. 
 Joseph Green, and Elizabeth, married to Capt, William 
 White. These gentlemen were commanders of vessels 
 which sailed from Portsmouth. My grandmother, Mrs. 
 Knight, married Mr. Shadrach Weymouth, whose sons 
 I shall have occasion to mention hereafter. 
 2 
 
14 MEMOIRI OF 
 
 I was born in the town of Rye,* once a part of Ports 
 mouth, N. H. September 30th, 1765, within one hundred 
 rods of the Atlantic ocean. I was the second son and 
 fourth child of my parents. My brothers were Thomas, 
 older than myself, Samuel, George and John 5 the last 
 died in infancy. My sisters were Martha, Elizabeth, 
 Mary, Susan, Abagail, Marcy, Sarah and another who 
 died in infancy. At an early age my life began to be 
 marked by misfortunes and dangers. When I was less 
 than three years of age I fell into a spring, and was to 
 appearance drowned. A sister one year and a half older 
 than myself, gave the alarm. I was taken out, and the 
 Almighty was pleased to resuscitate me. Having reach 
 ed the age of seven years, my father placed me with Mr. 
 John Gate, of Londonderry, forty miles from Portsmouth, 
 His wife was my father s youngest sister, I lived more 
 than four years in this family, without having seen any 
 member of my father s family. Here I began to feel the 
 sorrows of life. I frequently mourned deeply over my 
 separation from my father, mother, brothers and sisters. 
 I had no playmate. When childish vanity or froward- 
 ness received correction, I frequently felt myself friend 
 less, and sometimes thought that I was chastised when I 
 did not deserve it, and that if my parents were acquain 
 ted with my sufferings, they would surely take me 
 home with them. Children certainly enjoy a very great 
 blessing, who in childhood are permitted to remain under 
 the care of parents. When I was eight or nine years 
 old, an ancient Irish Presbyterian lady, by the name of 
 Bell came to reside in my uncle s family. She had ex 
 perienced religion before her removal from Ireland. 
 She had been distinguished for her piety during the 
 course of a long life, having now reached the age of 
 ninety. She was the first woman whom I had ever 
 heard pray. She had been a cripple from her youth, 
 was never married, and at this time I believe subsisted 
 on the charity of her friends. Families whose means 
 would allow it, seemed to account it an honor to have 
 Mrs. Bell for a guest. She paid especial attention to 
 
 * At Rye was once a part of Portsmouth, I haro generally 
 from that place. 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 15 
 
 the youth and children of those families in which she 
 resided, taught them to read, instructed them in the cate 
 chism, stored their memories with hymns, and often con 
 versed with them on the subject of religion. I recollect 
 to have heard her speak of an extraordinary reformation 
 which took place in Ireland during her childhood. She 
 stated that a number of very young children were con 
 verted, some of whom at an early period, left the world 
 in an extacy of joy, with strong confidence in the prospect 
 of dwelling with the Saviour. When Mrs. Bell entered 
 my uncle s family, I had but little opportunity for read 
 ing ; she, however instructed me in the catechism, and 
 I, under her direction, learned a number of hymns, most 
 of which I recollect to this day. 
 
 One Sabbath afternoon, while this lady was employed 
 in catechising the children of the family, my mind be 
 came agitated in an unusual manner. I wished to retire, 
 but feared to make the attempt, lest 1 should be ordered 
 to remain in the room ; at the same time I concluded 
 I should cry aloud if I remained. I was awed with 
 a sense of the presence of GOD, but could find no cause 
 for my strange confusion of mind. At length I hastily 
 ma.de for the door and retired without molestation. It 
 gave n*e a momentary relief to escape from the house 
 unmolested, I fled to the barn, imagining that my (eet 
 scarcely touched the ground, and falling on my knees in 
 one corner, I, for the first time attempted to pray. 
 
 To all this, except weeping when I first left the house, 
 I seemed to be involuntarily impelled. The conflict of 
 feeling subsided, my mind became tranquil, and for some 
 days or weeks, 1 felt an unusuul degree of solemnity. I 
 have no recollection that Mrs. Bell ever made any inqui 
 ries respecting the state of my mind, yet she was inde 
 fatigable in giving me good counsel. 
 
 During fifty-six years which passed away since 
 that event, I have reflected on it perhaps a thousand 
 times, but have never been able satisfactorily to assign a 
 cause for my feelings on that Sabbath. I am not aware 
 that I founded any hopes of salvation on those impress 
 ions. From that time fonvatd, however, when I thought 
 of GOD, my mind was filled with awe, and I often dread- 
 
10 
 
 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ed to sin against him. Still I was not aware, at this pe 
 riod, of the fountain of iniquity which existed within my 
 heart. From that period I occasionally prayed ; some 
 times felt my affections considerably excited, especially 
 when thinking of home. I am now persuaded that I had 
 no small degree of Pharisaic pride about me. I was 
 however hut a child, and much, very much needed an 
 instructor. 
 
 I must now call the attention of the reader to circum 
 stances of a different kind, and wish that he with myself 
 may keep the providence of GOD in view. The cele 
 brated Stamp Act passed the British Parliament in 1765, 
 the year of my hirth. That act excited a genera) alarm 
 among the American Colonists, Resolutions were 
 passed against the act, by^ost of the colonial assemblies. 
 I had breathed but a few days when ten of the colo 
 nies, by their representatives, formed a Colonial Con 
 gress in the City of New- York, in October, 1705. 
 
 I was about nine years of age when Gen. Gage, with 
 a land and naval force, took possession of Boston, which 
 has been termed the "cradle of American indepenr 
 dence." The seizure of Boston exasperated the feel 
 ings of the colonists in every section of our country. I 
 distinctly recollect the period when the farmers of Lon 
 donderry coujd scarcely settle themselves to their work. 
 They felt that their rights were invaded. Many persons- 
 of talent or influence were friendly to the measures pur 
 sued by the British parliament,; they were termed " To 
 ries." Another class, which remonstrated against those 
 measures, received the name of " Whigs." My miclfc 
 with whom I resided was a decided Whig. Having form 
 ed acquaintances in Boston, where he had served his 
 time at the cabinet-maker s business, he felt a deep inte 
 rest, in the events which occurred there. He took the 
 news-papers ; (there were comparatively few published 
 at that day,) his neighbours assembled about him, and 
 the fire-side conversation turned on the rights of the peo 
 ple, the injustice of parliament, the detection of Tories, 
 &c. The conflicts at Lexington and Bunker s hill, and 
 the burning of Charleston, roused the Irish " Yankies" 
 of Londonderry.. Tlie young men posted off to the bat- 
 
ANDREW SHERBUR.VE. 17 
 
 tie ground, prompted by their sires, who followed them 
 with their horses laden with provisions. My ears were 
 open to all the passing news. I wished myself old 
 enough to take an active part in this contest. Little did 
 I realize at that time the horrors of war. I had not yet 
 heard the clash of arms, the groans of the dying, and the 
 shouts of the victors. Nor did I imagine at this period, 
 when I so much abhorred swearing, that the time would 
 arrive when I should become a profane sailor. What is 
 man ? "At his best estate he is altogether vanity. 1 
 
 In Londonderry the influence ofDoct. Matthew Thorn 
 ton, one of the signers of the declaration of independence, 
 was exerted with great effect, on the side of liberty. 
 When I was about eleven years of age, my uncle re 
 moved from Londonderry to Epsom. Here another 
 distinguished patriot had resided, Capt. Mc Leary. He 
 fell with General Warren, on Bunker s Hill. I recollect 
 the four following lines of a dirge, commemorative of the 
 deaths of Warren and Mc Leary, and their companions. 
 
 "My trembling hands and aching heart, 
 
 O how it throbs this day; 
 Their loss is felt in every part 
 
 Of North America." 
 
 These lines indicate the spirit of the times, rather than 
 the poetic talent of their author. A martial spirit was 
 diffused through the little circle of my acquaintances. 
 As the men were frequently called together for military 
 discipline, their example was not lost upon the boys. 
 Lads from seven years old and upwards, were formed 
 into companies, and being properly officered, armed with 
 wooden guns and adorned with plumes, they would go 
 through the manual exercise with as much regularity as 
 the men. If two or three boys met, their martial ardor 
 showed itself in exercising with sticks instead of muskets. 
 Many a bitter sigh and broken heart., however, testified 
 in the end the result of this military excitement. 
 
 Parents saw with pain their sons advancing from child 
 hood to youth. My reader can but faintly imagine the 
 feelings of an aged father, or an affectionate mother, 
 perhaps a widow, when news arrived that a son had fal- 
 2* 
 
18 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 Ion in the field of battle, or had languished and died itf 
 a hospital, or still remained a prisoner in the hands of 
 a foe. whose tender mercies were cruel. Danger how 
 ever did not deter our young men from pressing forward 
 to the battle ground, or sailing to meet the foe upon the 
 ocean. 
 
 I turn to myself. While residing in Epsom, on 
 a Sabbath I went to a meeting in Chichester, accompa 
 nied by a number of others. I do not recollect to have 
 heard the preacher s name, but I am inclined to think 
 that it must have been Elder Eliphalet Smith, [common 
 ly called "Mountain Smith."] At this period I was 
 about twelve years of age. I had enjoyed but little op 
 portunity for hearing preaching. Although the congre 
 gation assembled in a barn, the worship was conducted 
 with great solemnity, and the preacher had my whole at 
 tention. I felt a solemn sense of my responsibility to 
 GOD. In the intermission I retired into the woods, my 
 mind was filled with serious reflections, and I earnestly 
 wished to continue in this frame of mind. While return 
 ing home, I had no inclination to join the young compa 
 ny in their light and careless conversation. I felt inclined 
 to walk alone. The impression made on my mind con 
 tinued for some time. 1 do not recollect, however, to 
 have formed any opinion respecting my situation. In 
 difference at last succeeded, but I did not indulge myself 
 in outbreaking sins as usual. Soon after this I returned 
 to my parents in Portsmouth. An abundance of new 
 objects was here presented to my view. Ships were 
 building, prizes taken from the enemy unloading, priva 
 teers fitting out, standards waved on the forts and batte 
 ries, the exercising of soldiers, the roar of cannon, the 
 sound of martial music and the call for volunteers so in 
 fatuated me, that I was filled with anxiety to become an 
 actor in the scene of war. My eldest brother, Thomas, 
 had recently returned from a cruise on board the u Gen 
 eral Mifrlin," of Boston, Capt, Mc Neal. This ship had 
 captured thirteen prizes, some of which, however, being 
 of little value, were burnt, some were sold in France, 
 others reached Boston, and their cargoes were divided 
 among the crew of that ship. On my brother s return, 
 
EW SHERBURNE. 19 
 
 [became more eager to try my fortune at sea. My fa- 
 hor, though a high Whig, disapproved the practice of 
 privateering. Merchant vessels, at this period, which 
 ran safe, made great gains, seamen s wages were conse 
 quently very high. Through my lather s influence 
 Thomas was induced to enter the merchants service 
 Though not yet fourteen years of age, like other hoys, 
 I imagined myself almost a man. I had intimated to my 
 sister, that if my father would not consent that I should 
 go to sea, I would run away, and go on hoard a privateer. 
 My mind became so infatuated with the subject, that I 
 talked of it in my sleep, and was overheard by my mother. 
 She communicated what she had heard to my father. 
 My parents were apprehensive that I might wander off 
 and go on board some vessel without their consent. At 
 this period it was not an uncommon thing for lads to 
 come out of the country, step on board a privateer, make 
 a cruise and return home, their friends remaining in en 
 tire ignorance of their fate, until they heard it from chem- 
 sclves. Others would pack up their clothes, take a cheese 
 and a loaf of bread, and -steer off for the army. There 
 was a disposition in commanders of privateers and re 
 cruiting officers to encourage this spirit of enterprise in 
 young men and boys. Though these rash young adven 
 turers did not count the cost, or think of looking at the 
 dark side of the picture, yet this spirit, amidst the des 
 pondency of many, enabled our country to maintain 
 a successful struggle and finally achieve her indepen 
 dence. 
 
 The continental ship of war Ranger, of eighteen guns, 
 commanded by Thomas Simpson, Esq. was at this time 
 shipping a crew in Portsmouth. This ship had been or 
 dered to join the Boston and Providence frigates and the 
 Queen of France of twenty guns, upon an expedition di 
 rected by Congress. My father having consented that I 
 should go to sea, preferred the service of Congress to pri 
 vateering. He was acquainted with Capt. Simpson. 
 Onboard this ship were my two half uncles, Timothy 
 and James Weymouth. Accompanied by my father, I 
 visited the rendezvous of the Ranger and shipped as one 
 of her crew. There were probably thirty boys on board 
 
20 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 this ship. As most of our principal officers belonged to 
 the town, parents preferred this ship as a station for their 
 sons who were about to enter the naval service. Hence 
 most of these boys were from Portsmouth. As priva 
 teering was the order of the day, vessels ofevery descrip 
 tion were employed in the business. Men were not 
 wanting who would hazard themselves in vessels of twen 
 ty tons or less, manned by ten or fifteen hands. Placing 
 much dependence on the protection of my uncles, I was 
 much elated with my supposed good fortune, which had 
 at last made me a sailor. 
 
 I was not yet fourteen years of age. I had received 
 some little moral and religious instruction, and was far 
 from being accustomed to the habits of town boys, or the 
 maxims or dialect of sailors. The town boys thought 
 themselves vastly superior to country lads ; and indeed 
 in those days the distinction was much greater than at 
 present. My diffidence and aversion to swearing, ren 
 dered me an object of ridicule to those little profane 
 chaps. I was insulted, and frequently obliged to fight. 
 In this I was sometimes victorious. My uncles, and oth 
 ers, prompted me to defend my rights. I soon began to 
 improve in boxing, and to indulge in swearing. At first 
 this practice occasioned some remorse of conscience. 
 I however endeavored to persuade myself that there was 
 a necessity for it. I at length became a proficient in this 
 abominable practice. To counterbalance my guilt in 
 this, I at the same time became more constant in praying; 
 heretofore I had only prayed occasionally ; now I pray 
 ed continually when I turned in at night, and vainly im 
 agined that I prayed enough by night to atone for the 
 sins of the day. Believing that no other person on board 
 prayed, I was filled with pride, concluding I had as much 
 or more religion than the whole crew besides. The boys 
 were employed in waiting on the officers, but in time of 
 action a boy was quartered to each gun to carry cart 
 ridges. I was waiter to Mr. Charles Roberts, the boat 
 swain, and was quartered at the third gun from the bo\r. 
 Being ready for sea, we sailed to Boston, joined the 
 Providence frigate, commanded by Commodore Whipplc, 
 the Boston frigate and the Queen of France. I believe 
 
ANDREW SHEREURNE. 21 
 
 that this small squadron composed nearly the entire na 
 vy of the United States. We proceeded to sea some 
 time in June, 1TT9. A considerable part of the crew of 
 the Ranger being raw hands and the sea rough, especial 
 ly in the gulf stream, many were exceedingly sick, and 
 myself amono; the rest. We afforded a subject of con 
 stant ridicule to the old sailors. Our officers improved 
 every favorable opportunity for woi king the ship and 
 exercising the guns. We cruised several weeks, 
 made the Western Islands, and at length fell in with 
 the homeward bound Jamaica fleet, on the banks of 
 Newfoundland. It was our practice to keep a man at 
 the mast head constantly by day, on the look out. The 
 moment a sail was discovered, a signal \vnsgiven to our 
 consorts, and all possible exertion was made to come up 
 with the stranger, or discover what she was. About 
 seven o clock one morning, the man at the fore-topmast 
 head cried out, " a sail, a sail on the Ice-bow; another 
 there, and there." Our youiiLf officers ran up the shrouds, 
 and with their glasses soon ascertained that more than 
 fifty sail could be seen from the mast-head. It should 
 here be observed, that during the months of summer, it 
 is extremely foggy on the banks of Newfoundland. - 
 Sometimes a ship cannot be seen at the distance of one 
 hundred yards, and then in a few minutes you may have 
 a clear sky and bright sun for half an hour, and you are 
 then enveloped in the fog again. The Jamaica fleet, 
 which consisted of about one hundred and fifty sail, some 
 of which were armed, was convoyed by rue or two line 
 of battle ships, and several frigates and sloops of war. 
 Our little squadron was in the rear of the fleet, and we 
 had reason to fear that, some of their heaviest armed ships 
 were there also. If I am not mistaken, the Boston fri 
 gate was not in company with us at this time. My rend-. 
 er may easily imagine that our minds were agitated with 
 alternate hopes and fears. No time wns to be lost. 
 Our Commodore soon brought to one of their ships, man 
 ned and sent her off. "Reing to windward, he edired 
 away and spoke to our Captain. We were at this time- 
 in pursuit of a large ship. The Commodore hauled his 
 wind again, and in the course of an hour we came, up 
 
22 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 with the ship, which proved to be the Holderness, a 
 three decker, mounting 22 guns. She struck after giv 
 ing her several broadsides. Although she had more 
 guns, and those of heavier metal than ourselves, her crew 
 was not sufficiently large to manage her guns, and at the 
 same time work the ship. She was loaded with cotton, 
 coffee, sugar, rum and alspice. While we were em 
 ployed in manning her, our Commodore captured another 
 and gave her up to us to man also. When this was ac 
 complished, it was nearly night ; we were, however, 
 unwilling to abandon the opportunity of enriching our 
 selves, therefore kept along under easy sail. Some time 
 in the night we found ourselves surrounded with ships, 
 and supposed we were discovered. We could distinctly 
 hear their bells, on which they frequently struck a few 
 strokes, that their ships might not approach too near 
 each other during the night. We were close on board 
 one of their largest armed ships; and from the multitude 
 of lights which had appeared, supposed that they had 
 called to quarters. It being necessary to avoid their 
 convoy, we fell to leeward, and in an hour lost sight of 
 them all. The next day the sky was overcast, and at 
 times we had a thick fog. In the afternoon the sun 
 shone for a short time, and enabled us to see a numerous 
 fleet a few miles to windward, in such compact order, 
 that we thought it not best to approach them. We were 
 however in hopes that we might pick up some single ship. 
 We knew nothing of our consorts, but were entirely alone. 
 Towards night we took and manned out a brig. On the 
 third morning we gained sight of three ships, to which 
 wo gave chase, and called all hands to quarters. When 
 they discovered us in chase, they huddled together, in 
 tending, as we supposed, to fight us ; they however soon 
 made sail and ran from us ; after a short lapse of time 
 wo overhauled and took one of them, which we soon 
 found to be a dull sailer. Another, while we were man 
 ning our prize, attempted to escape, but we soon found 
 that we gained upon her. While in chase, a circum 
 stance occurred which excited some alarm. Two large 
 ships hove in sight to windward, running directly for us, 
 under a press of sail. One of them shaped her course 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 23 
 
 for the prize we had just manned. We were unwilling 
 to give up our chase, as we had ascertained from our 
 prize that the two other ships were laden with sugar, 
 rum, cotton, &c. and that they were unarmed. We 
 soon came up with the hindmost, brought her to, and 
 ordered her to keep under our stern, while we might 
 pursue the other, as our situation was too critical to al 
 low us to heave to and get out our boat. 
 
 The stranger in chase of us was under English col 
 ors; we however soon ascertained by her signal, that 
 she was the Providence frigate, on board of which jvas 
 our Commodore. This joyful intelligence relieved us 
 from all fear of the enemy, and we soon came up with 
 our chase. In the mean time, the prize which we had 
 taken, (but not boarded,) sought to get under the pro 
 tection of the Providence, mistaking that frigate for one 
 of the English convoy, as he still kept their colors flying. 
 Our prize, therefore, as she thought, eluded us, and hail 
 ing our Commodore, informed him, that a Yankee 
 cruiser had taken one of the fleet!" Very well, very 
 well, replied the Commodore, * I ll be alongside of him 
 directly. He then hauled down his English colors, 
 hoisted the American, and ordered the ship to haul down 
 her flag and come under his stern. This order was im 
 mediately obeyed. We new ascertained that the strange 
 ship, which was in chase of our first prize, was another 
 of our consorts, the Queen of France. Having manned 
 our prizes and secured our prisoners, we all shaped our 
 course for Boston, where we arrived some time in the 
 last of July or beginning of August, 1779. 
 
 In all we had taken ten prizes, two of which were re 
 taken. The Ranger made but a short stop at Boston, 
 for as most of our officers and crew belonged to Ports 
 mouth and its vicinity, our vessel could be most conven 
 iently refitted there. On returning home, I found the 
 addition of another sister to the family. She is no\r the 
 wife of Mr. David Ingalls, of Baldwin, in Maine, and is 
 my youngest and only surviving sister. I had the satis 
 faction to find the family well. My eldest brother had 
 recently returned from a successful voyage in a mer 
 chantman. The cargoes of our prizes being divided; 
 
24 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 among our crews, my share was about one ton of sugar, 
 from thirty to forty gallons of fourth proof Jamaica rum, 
 about twenty pounds of cotton, and about the same quan 
 tity of ginger, logwood and alspice, and about seven hun 
 dred dollars in paper money, probably worth fifty 
 dollars in specie. My readers must be left to imagine 
 the feelings of rny parents, when they could number four 
 sons and seven daughters around their table in health 
 and prosperity. " In the day of prosperity be joyful, 
 but in the day of adversity, consider. God also hath 
 *qt. one over against the other, to the end that man should 
 find nothing alter him." Eccl. vii. 14. 
 

 Ur SITY 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Second cruise with Capt. Simpson, in the Ranger 
 Third, in the same ship, from Charleston Chased 
 into Charleston by the British fleet Captured 
 Small-pox Came to Newport, /2, /. with Capt. Pow 
 ers, his master At Boston heard of his father s death 
 Death of Capt Powers > in Boston Gets home sick 
 Sails in the Alexander -in the Greyhound taken 
 in a prize imprisoned at Placentia (Newfoundland.} 
 
 AFTER a few weeks, or perhaps a few days of pleasing 
 pastime, the lads must repair to their ships again. It 
 would seem unmanly for sailors to shed tears at parting 
 from their friends. But, " judge ye who know a 
 mother s cares," The downcast look and the trickling 
 tear upon the cheek of a fond mother and affectionate 
 sisters, would draw at least a deep sigh from the bosom 
 of an adventurous boy. 
 
 God had graciously concealed from our view the 
 days of adversity, which in his wise counsel were to 
 succeed those few days of prosperity. 
 
 The Ranger was again ready for sea; the same offi 
 cers and most of the same crew were going in her again. 
 I had never been discharged, and of course was consid 
 ered one of her crew. We rejoined our old consorts, 
 and cruised to the southward, and in course of the win 
 ter put into Charleston, S. C. having taken several small 
 British transports of but little value. 
 
 Having replenished our provisions and water, we put 
 to sea on another cruise, on the coast of Florida and the 
 southern States. 
 
 While on this cruise, a memorable event took place 
 with me. On the coast of Georgia we fell in with a ship 
 and gave her chase. We were running toward the land, 
 and the wind increased to such a degree that orders 
 were given to reef the topsails. It was the business of 
 boys, with the assistance of marines, to reef the mizzen 
 topsail, He who is first aloft goes on the weather yard- 
 
26 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 nrm, and passes the earring, so called, viz, secures the 
 leach or outer edge of the sail to the end of the yard- 
 arm. As 1 was not fortunate enough to be first, but was 
 however the second, it was my lot to goon to the lee 
 yard-arm, and pass the earring. I was followed by sev 
 eral heavy marines ; the lee lift broke, or as the sailors 
 would say, parted ; the yard tipped up and down, and 
 as I was sitting astride the yard, outside the rigging, I 
 immediately slipped off, having nothiog to support me 
 except a small piece of rigging about as thick as a man s 
 little finger. I held on to this small rope until 1 caught 
 the rigging of the cross jack-yard, and got in on the lee 
 shrouds. The ship at this time was running at the rate 
 of ten miles an hour, with quite a rough sea ; so that if 
 I had gone overboard, it would have been next to impos 
 sible to have saved me. Night came on, and the ship 
 that we were chasing escaped us. Shortly after this, 
 about the middle of Feb. 1780, early in the morning, we 
 discovered four or five large British ships of war to lee- 
 vard of us, the land being in sight to windward, the en 
 emy gave us chase. AVe beat up to Charleston Bar, 
 came to anchor, and waited a little while for the tide to 
 rise, and then ran in and came to anchor under fort Sul 
 livan. The British lay several days outside, then light 
 ened their ships, came in over the bar, and came to 
 anchor, but durst not approach the fort. They doubt 
 less recollected the defeat of Sir Peter Parker, before 
 the same fort, in 17 7G. 
 
 It was now ascertained that the enemy meditated an 
 attack on the city of Charleston, the harbour was com 
 pletely blockaded. The ships at the bar were soon join 
 ed by others. The Ranger being the smallest ship of our 
 squadron, could approach near the shore, and was or 
 dered to attack a small battery that the enemy had 
 erected upon James Island. Our ship having taken her 
 station, came to anchor before the battery, and with 
 springs on her cables, commenced cannonading with 
 great fury, and continued the tiring for an hour and 
 a half, without cessation. We succeeded in dismount 
 ing their cannon and obliged their soldiers to quit the 
 
X 
 
 / 
 
 |UNi 
 
 ANDREW SHERBURNEiV IT 
 
 >^ /V , 
 
 ground. Our ship received several shots^feJjttK) person 
 was injured. 
 
 At the commencement of the cannonading, I was ex 
 ceedingly alarmed, but was careful to conceal my feav5 
 from my shipmates. After we had discharged a few 
 broadsides, my fears pretty much subsided, and I, with 
 high spirits, served my gun with cartridges, until the tir 
 ing ceased. 
 
 Our little ship was once more detached to encounter 
 a battery above the city ; we commenced our firing a lit 
 tle before high water, and were obliged to withdraw from 
 our station shortly before the tide began to ebb. The 
 tide fell so much before we left our station, that we wero 
 obliged to employ our boats and small anchors to warp 
 our ship into deeper water, there being but little wind at 
 that time. 
 
 We were not so successful as we had been with the 
 battery on James Island. The battery we had now to 
 contend with, was so near the British head quarters, 
 that they received another gun, a 24 pounder. Our 
 ship received a 24 pound ball, which lodged in her 
 side, directly against where I stood, it having struck the 
 salt marsh, which deadened its force, or it must have 
 gone through the ship, and would of course have killed 
 me. 
 
 Charleston was not so fortified as to stand a regnh.r 
 siege, and yet we were enabled to make a vigorous de 
 fence. A chain of redoubts, lines and batteries, extend 
 ed from Asldey to Cooper s river ; on those rivers was 
 an almost continued line of batteries. The British hav 
 ing crossed Ashley river, broke ground on the night of 
 the first of April, within eight hundred yards of our lines. 
 About the 9th, the British fleet lying within the bar, 
 having a fresh wind in their favour, ventured to run by 
 Sullivan s Island, under a heavy fire from fort Moultrie. 
 They lost twenty seven seamen killed and wounded, and 
 one of their transports. They anchored between tha 
 fort and city, secure from the cannon of both. Our ships 
 could now no longer be employed to advantage ; their 
 crews and some of their guns were removed into batte 
 ries. Capt. Simpson and the Ranger s crew were sta 
 
28 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 tioned in a small fort called fort Gadsden;this being the 
 uppermost one on the river, was much exposed to the fire 
 of the British. A bomb at one time fell within a few 
 feet of me: though much alarmed, 1 threw myself behind 
 the carriage of a large gun, and escaped unhurt. Part 
 of our officers with rive or six waiters, of whom I was 
 one, occupied an elegant house owned by a Col. Gadsden; 
 while here, a bomb fell through the roof and exploded 
 in the cellar, without injury to any one. While walking 
 alone on the green, one day, a bomb burst over my head, 
 and a large piece buried itself in the turf within three 
 feet of me. At another time, while sitting in the room of 
 a sick shipmate, a ball struck the house and passed be 
 tween me and another person who was within two yards 
 of me ; the bricks and plaster flew on every side, yet we 
 escaped uninjured. The siege being closely pressed, 
 balls and shells were continually falling within the city. 
 I have during the night counted ten bombs of different 
 sizes, flying in the air at one time. No spot could now 
 be considered as a place of safety. We were in contin 
 ual apprehension of an attempt to carry our works 
 by storm, the force of the enemy being far superior to 
 ours. 
 
 Our provisions being exhausted, we at length capitu 
 lated on the 12th day of May, 1780. The American 
 army was commanded by Gen. Lincoln, the British by 
 Sir Henry Clinton. Our officers were paroled, and al 
 lowed to retain their waiters ; we were consequently 
 allowed to be at large within the city. We were for 
 several days entirely destitute of provisions, except mus 
 cles, which we gathered from the muscle beds. I was 
 at this time waiter to Capt. Pierce Powers, who was 
 master s mate of the Ranger, He treated me with 
 the kindness of a father, and I was strongly attached to 
 him. The day after our surrender, a distressing acci 
 dent occurred. While the British soldiers were depos 
 iting the muskets taken from us in the grand magazine, 
 which was bomb proof, the powder in it exploded. The 
 shock was tremendous, and fatal to many, who were in 
 stantly hurried into eternity without a moment s warn 
 ing. I law the print of a man who had been dashed 
 
ANDREW SHERBURXE. 29 
 
 against the end of a brick church thirty feet from the 
 ground, and perhaps thirty rods from the magazine. 
 The cause of the explosion I never ascertained. After 
 our surrender, it was discovered that the small pox pre 
 vailed among the British troops. Few of the New Eng- 
 landers had ever had that disease. Our officers deemed 
 it advisable that we should be inoculated. 
 
 Our physicians performed this service for us, but they 
 having no medicine at their command, could be of n > 
 other service to us. This disease I much more dread 
 ed than I did the bombs and balls of the enemy. When 
 the symptoms came on, I was greatly alarmed, and !-y 
 prayer applied to God for preservation ; he was graciously 
 pleased to favour me, though I dare not say that my pray 
 er was the prayer of faith. I had this disease very fa 
 vourably. Capt. Powers did all that was in his power 
 for my relief. 
 
 As soon as it was practicable, Capt. Simpson and other 
 officers procured a small vessel, which was employed as 
 a cartel, to transport the officers, their boys and baggage 
 to Newport, Rhode Island, agreeably to the terms of ca 
 pitulation. 
 
 It being difficult to procure suitable casks for water, 
 they obtained such as they could ; they proved to be 
 foul, and after we had got to sea, our water became filthy 
 and extremely noxious. Very few if any on board es 
 caped an attack of the diarrhoea. 
 
 Our passage to Rhode Island was pleasant, though 
 rather long. A considerable number of us having had 
 the small pox, it became necessary that we should be 
 thoroughly cleansed, before we passed through the coun 
 try. There were little smoke-houses erected on a re 
 mote part of the island for this purpose ; to these we 
 repaired, superintended by the police officers ; here our 
 clothing was all unpacked and thrown about, and our 
 selves almost suffocated with a smoke made of oakum, 
 tobacco, Sec. 
 
 Having gone through with smoking, we went to a creek 
 to wash. As I could swim tolerably well, I ventured in 
 to the current ; it being near low water, my feet were 
 entangled in eel-grass, and drawn under water and I very 
 3* 
 
30 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 narrowly escaped being drowned ; there being none who 
 could afford me any assistance. By making every pos 
 sible effort, I disengaged my feet, and recovered the 
 shore, not a little alarmed. The lads who were swim 
 mers expressed their surprise at their inability to swim 
 at this time. Indeed we were none of us aware of our 
 weakness. I here had another hair-breadth escape. O 
 how wonderful, how incomprehensible are the ways of 
 God. 
 
 Capt. Powers hired a passage for himself and me, in 
 a two horse wagon, to Boston, where he put up at the 
 sign of the golden ball, not far from the market ; this 
 house was kept by a Mr. Cox, a free mason ; my mas 
 ter was also of that fraternity. The roads at that time 
 were very different from what they now are. The con 
 trast between the motion of a vessel on the water, and 
 that of a wagon over such a rough road, is very great. 
 The jolting of the wagon proved very unfavourable to us 
 in our weak state. The free masons paid particular at 
 tention to my master. He was immediately confined to 
 his bed and placed under the care of a physician. 
 Though weak and without appetite, I was with difficulty 
 able to keep about. My two uncles who were captured 
 with me at Charleston, had gone in a cartel directly to 
 Philadelphia. During the time that Boston had been 
 occupied by the British troops, (1774, 1776,) a gentle 
 man by the name of Drown, an inhabitant of Boston, but 
 with his family removed to Epping, N. H. where he re 
 sided in the house of my uncle Johnston. Having form 
 ed an intimate acquaintance with grandmother, he had 
 learned that she had two sons arid a grandson on board 
 the Ranger. Having ascertained that part of the Ran 
 ger s crew had returned to Boston, Mr. Drown, now re 
 siding in Boston, made diligent enquiry after us. He 
 called at the house of Mr. Cox, while I was at an apoth 
 ecary s shop, and gave information that my father was 
 no more! My master, deeply afflicted, requested Mr*. 
 Cox to inform me, rather than to communicate the dis 
 tressing intelligence himself. On my return, Mrs. Cox 
 took me into another apartment, and with much sympathy 
 made known to me the matter. My readers can better 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 31 
 
 judge of my feelings than I can express them. I having 
 passed some time in tears and reflection,went into my mas 
 ter s chamber. He readily perceived that I had received 
 the heart-rending intelligence, and was himself quite af 
 fected. Said he ; Andrew, you have met with a great loss, 
 I am very sorry for you ; I don t know how it will turn with 
 me t but I hope you won t leave me. I suppose you are 
 desirous to get home, but I am unwilling to part with 
 you. I have no child, and if I should live, and you will 
 live with me, I will make you my son, and will endeav 
 our to make a man of you. I am now looking for Mrs. 
 Powers every day ; I hope you won t leave me, Andrew. 
 If I should live, I will do all I can for you. 5 This friend 
 ly address much affected me. I loved the man, and 
 although I had a great desire to get home, I could not 
 leave him. His time however was short. 1 think he 
 died the next day or the day after. I was much grieved 
 for the loss of such a kind and faithful friend. He was 
 indeed a father to me. I wa*s now a poor orphan, not yet 
 fifteen years old, without relatives or acquaintance in 
 Boston, sick and without money. But the Lord has al 
 ways been very gracious in raising friends for me. Mr. 
 and Mrs. Cox felt much for me and endeavoured to com 
 fort me. They thought I had better try to get home. 
 Mr. Cox said there was no coaster in from Portsmouth, 
 at that time, and that there might not be any in for a week 
 or more ; that if I should set out by land, I should proba 
 bly get some assistance in my journey along. The dis 
 tance to Portsmouth was about 60 miles. 
 
 The day after my master s death, by Mr. Cox s direc 
 tion, I placed his clothing, Sft. in his chest,locked it and 
 took the key to carry to Mrs. Powers. 
 
 Mr. Cox gave me five or six paper dollars, and his 
 best counsel and wishes. The tears flowed plentifully 
 from Mrs. Cox s eyes, while in broken accents she gave 
 me her benediction. I set out in the fore part of the 
 day, (Mrs. Powers arrived in the evening.) With my 
 little budget I stalked down to the ferry, just as the fer 
 ryman had arrived fiom the opposite shore. My mea 
 gre appearance immediately excited his attention, and 
 ascertaining I was from prison, and that I wished to cross 
 
32 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 the ferry, he went directly over with me, without wait 
 ing for any other passenger, gave me my passage and 
 his best wishes. My complaint had now become a con 
 firmed dysentery, and I found myself poorly able to trav 
 el ; I had not walked a mile before I was obliged to lie 
 down under a shade, by the road side, in great pain. 
 After a while the pain in some measure abated, and such 
 extreme debility succeeded, that I felt great difficulty in 
 attempting to walk again, and feared I should never 
 get home. A train of melancholy reflections overwhelmed 
 my mind ; I wept, I wept bitterly. My father was dead, 
 my master, a second father, was no more. I could re 
 member the sympathy he expressed for me, but could 
 profit nothing by it at this time. 
 
 I was in pain. I knew not whether I could rise on 
 my feet, or if I could rise whether I could walk. Hav 
 ing wept until my tears were exhausted, my bosom 
 would again and again swell with sorrow. I cannot now 
 sav, whether in all this conflict, I attempted to pray. 
 I however attempted to rise and with difficulty succeed 
 ed, picked up my little budget and slowly pursued my 
 journey. I had walked quite too fast from the ferry, and 
 too far without resting. I now walked cautiously and 
 rested frequently. As I was passing a house in Lynn, I 
 was noticed by a woman who stood in her door; she came 
 immediately into the road to me, asked me a few quest 
 ions, and insisted upon my going into the house. We 
 were met at the door by another tender hearted mother ; 
 they had one or both of them a son or sons in the army. 
 I being seated, they stood over me and wept freely. 
 
 The best which their house afforded was at my service. 
 I partook sparingly of such as they prescribed. In the 
 presence of those ladies, I put off the effeminate mourn 
 er. My spirits were considerably revived, and I found 
 that by walking slowly and resting frequently, I could 
 make the best progress ; that night I got to NewelPs 
 tavern in Lynn, at that time one of the most celebrated 
 taverns in JNew England. I think the old gentleman s 
 name was Timothy, he had a hare lip. He gratuitously 
 entertained me and gave me good counsel. 
 
 The next day I had an opportunity of riding several 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 33 
 
 miles in the bottom of a chaise, in which two gentlemen 
 were riding, and put up at the Bell tavern in Danvers. 
 In about seven or eight days I arrived at Portsmouth ; 
 there I found my mother a widow, having only two of her 
 children with her, Betsey, about twelve years old, and 
 Sally, her youngest, about one. My brother Thomas 
 had sailed for the West Indies in December, with Capt. 
 Peter Shores in a little vessel; Capt. Stackpole and Capt. 
 Jones had each of them sailed in company with Capt. 
 Shores. They had now been gone long enough to have 
 made two voyages to the West Indies, but there was no 
 intelligence from them, nor has there ever been any to 
 this day. Without doubt they all foundered in a violent 
 gale of wind, which arose shortly after their departure. 
 My sister Martha was living at my uncle Samuel Sher- 
 burne s, on the ancient farm. The death of her father, 
 and the fate of her brothers weighed her spirits down. 
 She was eighteen months older than myself, and after 
 wards became the wife of Mr. Edmund Davis, of Ports 
 mouth. 
 
 Little did I expect to have found such changes in the 
 family in one year. The reader will judge of my feelings 
 under such circumstances. Dr. A. R. Cutter, one of 
 the most celebrated physicians in the country and one of 
 the most amiable of men, was called for, and I think 
 nearly two months elapsed before I recovered so as to be 
 capable of any business. There was no employment 
 of any consequence for me on shore, unless I should go 
 into the army. I preferred the sea and was very de 
 sirous of doing something for the family. My father 
 was by occupation a carpenter, he left no estate and the 
 avails of my former cruise were pretty much exhausted. 
 
 My mother was now industriously employed in spin 
 ning, knitting, and sewing for others, but principally in 
 spinning linen ; this was now her only means of support 
 ing herself and children who were with her. My moth 
 er would sit at her wheel for hours, diligent and pensive, 
 without uttering a word, while now and then the tears 
 would roll down her cheeks, and when she broke silence 
 she perhaps narrated some event which transpired in my 
 father s day, or referred to some event respecting her 
 dear Thomas, her first born. 
 
34 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 As the Hanger was built in Portsmouth and had fallen 
 into the hands of the enemy, the patriotic merchants of 
 Portsmouth were anxious to retrieve their loss ; they 
 built a beautiful ship, which mounted twenty guns and 
 called her the Alexander, and gave Capt, Simpson the 
 command of her ; .Elijah Hall, Ksq. who was first Lieut, 
 of the Ranger, was also second in command on board 
 the Alexander ; he was a worthy character and much be 
 loved by the officers and crew. A considerable number of 
 the Hanger s oflicers and crew occupied the same station 
 on board this ship, they had previously occupied on 
 board the Ranger. Having been invited by ( apt. Simp 
 son, to try my fortune with him again, I readily accepted 
 the invitation. 
 
 We sailed from Portsmouth in December 1780, and 
 cruised upwards of three months, but took nothing; we 
 never gave chase to any vessel without coming up with 
 her, but we never met with an enemy. Our cruise was 
 designed for three months, but, as we could get no 
 prize, we prolonged it and our provision failed, so that 
 we carne to half allowance before we got in, and we re 
 ally suffered for water. 
 
 1 left with my mother the power of attorney, with di 
 rections to sell any part of my share she might think 
 proper. She sold one fourth part, for about seventy 
 dollars, to a former acquaintance and was to take coun 
 try produce, this answered a valuable purpose; it pro 
 cured fodder for her cow, firewood, &c. 
 
 On my return, I found my mother and family in health, 
 but no news from Thomas. I began to feel as if tho 
 care of the family would devolve on me and I felt zealous 
 to render them all the help in my power. Our friends 
 and neighbors began to extol me for my attention to my 
 mother and sister, and I was emulous to redeem the 
 pledge. 
 
 The Alexander was a fine ship and the fastest sailing 
 ship I was ever acquainted with. She was preparing for 
 the second cruise and I had been invited to try my for 
 tune in her again, and had concluded to accept the in 
 vitation ; but a circumstance occurred which gave mo 
 a different direction. 
 
SttERBURNE. 35 
 
 1 was walking the street one clay, and being in a sea- 
 inan s garb, was readily recognised as a sailor and was 
 overtaken by a jolly tar, who accosted me in the follow 
 ing manner. 4i Ha, shipmate, don t you wish to take a 
 short cruise in a fine schooner ar:d make your fortune f 3 
 I replied that 1 expected to sail in the Alexander. " O 
 we shall get back," said he/ 4 beibre the Alexander will 
 get ready to sail." 
 
 The young man was Capt. Jacob Wilds, of Kenne- 
 bunkport, in Maine ; his schooner was called the Grey 
 hound, she was fitted out in Salem, Massachusetts. She 
 had been a bank fisherman, but being now finely painted, 
 with a new and longer set of masts and spars, and having 
 her ensign und pennant flying? she made quite a warlike 
 appearance. She mounted eight four pounders and was. 
 of about sixty tons burden. A Capt. Arnold, (of 
 whom I shall have occasion to speak more particularlj 
 hereafter) was the only person who was going on board 
 the Greyhound from Portsmouth. Ho was first prize- 
 master and was very solicitous that 1 should go with him. 
 He was the only person on board, >vhose face I had ev 
 er seen before, and with him, 1 had but a very slight ac 
 quaintance. I was then in my sixteenth year and pretty 
 well grown; the Capt. promised that I should have a 
 full share and made me many fair promises, and he proy- 
 ed punctual. He told me he should go into Old York, 
 (a small port, three leagues east of Poitsmouth) and that 
 if 1 would goon board his vessel, and goto York, if 
 I did not like the vessel and ciew, he would pay iny 
 expenses back to Portsmouth again. 
 
 Privateering had now become the order of the day, 
 and in many instances small vessels had as good success 
 as large ones, though it was difficult to get a sufficient 
 number of hands to man them. 1 was induced to go on 
 board with Capts. Wilds and Arnold, and to go as far as 
 York. Having got on board I was, by Capt. Wilds, with 
 something of ceremony introduced to the officers, and I 
 found indeed a jovial company. She had a full comple 
 ment of officers, two or three ordinary seamen before the 
 mast, and between twenty and thirty boys, scarcely one 
 of them as large as myself, and some of them not a doz 
 en rear* old. I was taken into the cabin and careised 
 
3G MEMOIRS OF 
 
 by Capt. Wilds and his officers, and spent a long and jo 
 vial evening ; I was invited to sing them a song, and in 
 the course of the evening entertained them with several. 
 In this no doubt there was management with Capt. 
 Wilds and his officers; they found it very difficult to ob 
 tain hands ; I was not yet secured and they wished that 
 I might become attached to them. 
 
 The next day having got under way, we ran down to 
 York, and it became necessary for Capt. Wilds to lay 
 some plan to increase his crew in this place,for in Ports 
 mouth he had very poor success ; the Capt. had gained 
 some information of the state of things at York by the 
 pilot, who piloted us into the harbor ; he therefore laid 
 a plan to get up a frolic at a public house, and suitable 
 persons were employed to invite the lads and lasses for 
 a country dance. Rum, coffee, sugar, biscuit, &c. were 
 taken on shore from the privateer, for the purpose, and 
 the frolic went on. Having but one fiddler and the 
 company being large, it became necessary to have dan 
 cing in more than one room ; I was selected by some of 
 the officers, to sing for some of the dancers ; this suited 
 my turn, for I was no proficient in dancing. Every art 
 and insinuation w r as employed by the officers to obtain 
 recruits ; they succeeded in getting two only that even 
 ing, one by the name of Sweet, and the other by the 
 name of Babb. 
 
 The next day was to me, one of the most memorable 
 days of my life ; such gloom and horror fell upon my 
 mind as I never before experienced, such melancholy 
 and despondency as I never before or since have felt, and 
 which it is impossible for me to describe. I resolved to 
 return home, but even in this resolution I could not an 
 ticipate the least degree of relief, and the voyage before 
 me looked as gloomy as death ; had I been on a single 
 plank, in the midst of the ocean, my condition could not 
 have appeared more hopeless. While in this forlorn condi 
 tion it came into my mind to go on board the vessel which 
 now lay at the wharf, and pray ; accordingly I went on 
 board (the people being mostly on shore) and sought a 
 place of retirement, and after some time spent in contem 
 plation, I attempted to pray. The gloom in some meas- 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 37 
 
 ure subsided. I disclosed my intention to the Capt. he 
 acknowedged my right to return if I chose, but express 
 ed great unwillingness to part with me; he engaged Capt. 
 Arnold and other officers in his interest to persuade me to 
 stay and spend one more evening with them ; they were 
 so urgent that they finally overcame me, and I reluctant 
 ly gave my consent. The evening was spent as ha d 
 been the preceding evening, and they obtained one 
 more hand only. I think his name was Preble. 
 
 The Capt. was satisfied that this was not the place 
 for him to make up his crew and was determined to push 
 farther eastward and gained my consent to go the cruise. 
 We left York with a design to call at Cape Porpoise in 
 Arundel, now called Kennebunkport. At this place 
 dwelt the Captain s father, who was an old sea Captain 
 and had acquired a handsome estate and now occupied 
 one of the best farms in that region. Our Capt. was but 
 about twenty-two years of age ; he had been absent 
 several years sailing from Salem and other ports, and 
 being now in the place of his nativity, there was no diffi 
 culty in getting up a frolic ; this plan was resorted to, 
 but to little purpose, for we obtained but one hand ; his 
 name was Samuel Wilds, a kinsman of the Capt. a lad 
 about sixteen. I shall have occasion to say something 
 of him hereafter. 
 
 The harbor of Cape Porpoise was but very little re 
 sorted to except by coasters and fishermen; there was 
 by no means a dense population in this place, a vessel 
 of so rakish an appearance as the Greyhound, with such 
 a flaming flag and streaming pennants, was quite a nov 
 elty. The Captain s barge was rowed with four earsonly, 
 and I had the honor of being steersman of this little 
 barge, and when we put off from along side, the Capt. 
 was honored with a gun and three cheers, from the crew; 
 this was something unusual, but we were privateers- 
 men. 
 
 We left Cape Porpoise, for the port of Falmouth, now 
 called Portland, which had been burnt in the commence 
 ment of the revolution, by Capt. Mowatt, who command 
 ed his Majesty s ship Cancer. We made but a short 
 stop at this place and got one hand only, and a poor 
 4 
 
38 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 thing he was. There was now no further prospect of 
 increasing our crew, we were obliged to try our fortune 
 with what we had and put to sea. 
 
 I very much regretted that I had ever seen the Grey 
 hound ; my melancholy which commenced at York, 
 had by no means snbsided ; at times I felt fearful fore 
 bodings, but endeavored to put the best side out, for 
 it was by no means becoming a young sailor to discov 
 er a want of fortitude ; I endeavored to suppress all 
 gloomy reflections and make the best of a bad bargain. 
 
 There was a lad on board, by the name of William 
 Deadman, near my age, but not so heavy; he was quite 
 active and very persevering; he and myself were always 
 called upon to do whatever was to be done aloft and 
 were each of us emulous not to be outdone by the other. 
 William was a worthy lad and there was always perfect 
 harmony between us ; we had the praise of the officers 
 and were much caressed by them. We met with noth 
 ing worth noticing, until we got off against Halifax; we 
 were there chased by a topsail-schooner, larger than 
 ours ; we had a fresh gale and a heavy sea, we carried 
 sail so long, that we were much in danger of carrying 
 away our masts; the vessel chasing us, was a much fas 
 ter sailer than ours, and of course, came up with us ; 
 but before she came up, we were obliged to take in our 
 topsail. In taking in the fore-topsail alone, I very nar 
 rowly escaped being thrown off the yard, which was but 
 a small spar, not much larger than a man s leg, and 
 consequently, could afford but little support to what a 
 large spar would. The pitching, and rolling of the ves 
 sel, rendered my situation dangerous beyond descrip 
 tion. I even now shudder at the thought of my then 
 perilous condition ; millions would not induce me to run 
 such a risk again. The schooner in chase of us, prov 
 ed to be an American privateer, called the Blood Hound. 
 We found that our privateers were numerous on this 
 coast. 
 
 After this we adventured to take a peep into Halifax. 
 As we drew near the harbor, we discovered a ship, ap 
 parently in distress, aiming to get in. We began to 
 hope she mi^ht be a prize for us; \ve were not however 
 
ANDREW 
 
 without suspicion, and the nearer we approached her 
 the more our suspicion increased, and at length wr> 
 thought best to draw off. We had no sooner shifted 
 our course, than she got up her topgallant yard, set 
 her topgallant sails, and gave us chase, and we soon dis 
 covered that she gained on us ; we now began to dread 
 Halifax prison. She chased us several hours and continu 
 ed to gain on us; the wind was light, and fortunately for 
 us, it became foggy, and by manoauvring, we eluded her. 
 
 We had hoped to intercept some merchantman going 
 in, but now feared to lurk about this harbor, as some 
 privateers had previously done, and had got rich prizes. 
 The British had found out some of our yankee tricks, 
 and were looking out for us. Our Captain thought it 
 best to be off from this ground, and try our luck on the 
 eastern shore and about the mouth of the St. Lawrence. 
 As we proceeded we had a trying time amongst the 
 islands ; we could look in no direction without seeing a 
 sail, and we soon found that we should be under the 
 necessity of speaking some of them. 
 
 By their manoeuvring we suspected that they were in 
 league with each other, and were at a loss to determine 
 whether they were friends or foes. 
 
 There were none which were as large as our vessel, 
 and we supposed that we should have nothing to fear 
 from any one of them ; but if they should prove to be 
 enemies, we should have more than two to encounter, 
 but having spoken with one or two of them ; we ascer 
 tained that they were all Americans. 
 
 We all took up our quarters, that night, in a harbor 
 not inhabited; I think it was called Beaver Harbor; 
 and when all collected, I believe there were seven or 
 eight sail, all smaller than the Greyhound, and some of 
 them not more than filteen or twenty tons. 
 
 There were too many instances in which those pica 
 roons plundered the defenceless inhabitants of the 
 British possessions. The next day we parted with all 
 this squadron, except one, who agreed to keep company 
 with us, and we soon parted with her. 
 
 W e visited a cluster of islands called the Bird Isl 
 ands and procured perhaps a half a dozen bushels of 
 
40 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 eggs, of different sizes, such as those of wild geese, 
 gannets, gulls, ducks, Sec. It was interesting to see 
 the management of so many different tribes of the feath 
 ered race ; their nests were almost as thick as hills 
 of corn, in a field. Those islands I believe did not 
 contain more than an acre or two each, and some 
 less than an acre. Low bushes grew on them, 
 but no trees. When we landed it excited a general 
 alarm. The birds would rise in masses, and in their 
 different dialects, remonstrate against our intrusions ; 
 for indeed, our conduct towards them, was not only rude, 
 but barbarous; nor were we very fortunate in our plun 
 der, for many of the eggs were unfit for use, havin g 
 been set on too long, nor indeed, were the best of them 
 a very delicious morsel to me ; in the season of them, 
 the Newfoundlanders use them as a substitute for bread. 
 I have seen a Newfoundland shallop almost loaded with 
 them. 
 
 We visited the Island of St. Peter s, at the mouth of 
 Fortune Bay, in Newfoundland: this had been a French 
 settlement of some consequence, but h ad recently been 
 entirely destroyed, by the British; another beautiful 
 island, called Micland, had shared the same fate. At 
 St. Peter s we took out our guns, and hauled our vessel 
 on a beautiful beach, and cleaned her bottom in order 
 to facilitate her sailing. 
 
 Near this Island, we fell in with a Newfoundland 
 shallop owned and commanded by Charles Grundy; he 
 had been to St. John s after salt, for his own use ; he 
 was an independent English fisherman. I do not mean 
 that he was a man of fortune ; only that he was inde 
 pendent of the Enlish merchants in whose service, al 
 most all the fishermen were employed. We detained 
 Grandy some time, and examined him very closely, and 
 were informed by him, that an English brig had recent 
 ly entered the bay, with supplies for the fishing station?, 
 we gave Charley some pork and bread, and dismissed 
 him to his great joy, for he fared much better than his 
 countrymen generally did, when they fell into the hands 
 of American privateersmen. 
 
 We flattered ourselves, that we should fall in with this 
 brig, and obtain a fine prize. We sailed up the bay, 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 41 
 
 visited several ports where fishing was carried on, upon 
 a large scale, but found nothing of the brig, but were in 
 formed that one was expected. Those ports had been 
 before visited by privateers who had plundered them. 
 Our Captain strictly forbade every thing of this kind. 
 Having failed in our enterprise respecting the said brig, 
 the Captain took two of the best shallops he could find, 
 which belonged to merchants in England, and loaded 
 them with oil and dry fish, which was the property c f 
 said merchants. 
 
 These shallops being loaded, were both committed to 
 the care of Capt. Arnold, who went on board the largest 
 of the m; he was to have two hands with him; one, he was 
 to select himself, and Capt. Wilds was to select the 
 othe.r. Arnold chose me, and Capt. Wilds selected James 
 Annrfg. Jasper Loid, an old Cape Ann fishes-nan, had 
 the charge of the other shall6p, (subject, however, to 
 Capt. Arnold,) and with him, were Samuel Wilds and 
 Samuel Babb. 
 
 We left the privateer at Micland, in the mouth of 
 Fortune Bay, and set out for Salem ; but the wind head 
 ed us and we put back, and anchored in the harbor of 
 the Island of Micland. A dark cloud seemed now to 
 be brooding over me, and the storm with which I had 
 (at least in anticipation) been threatened, was now 
 about to burst upon me. The wind was decidedly ahead 
 and it was something of a risk to cross the gulf of St. 
 Lawrence in so small a vessel, and it was also a risk to 
 pass by Halifax. We lay wind bound in Micland, sever 
 al days. 
 
 As we were in a snug harbor, where there were no 
 inhabitants, we did not keep a watch at night. One 
 morning when I came on deck, I perceived that Capt. 
 Arnold was very different from what I had ever seen 
 him; he had appeared rather low spirited, from the time 
 the privateer left us, and now appeared in some meas 
 ure deranged ; he was remarkably sportive for some time, 
 and on a sudden seemed to have something lie with 
 great weight on his mind. In the evening he requested 
 me to get a light and come into the cabin to him. I 
 complied with his request, and tarried with him all night, 
 4* 
 
42 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Neither of us slept any : he talked without cessatian all 
 night, and upon almost every subject imaginable ; some 
 times he would seem to talk rationally, for a few minutes 
 and would then appear completely deranged again. 
 From some circumstances, I had the impression that he 
 had an awful dread of falling into the hands of the ene 
 my. It was said that he and others had run away from 
 Halifax with a king s cutter, but I do not recollect 
 whether I had this hint from himself or others. In the 
 morning he appeared very cheerful, and full of business, 
 and quite inoffensive, and generally disposed to hearken 
 to my advice. In the course of the day, he seemed to 
 imagine himself on board the privateer and would fre 
 quently speak to this and the other officer, and reply as 
 though they answered him. When night came on, I ad 
 vised him to go into his cabin. I made his bed and 
 proposed to him to lie d^wn, he complied without hesi 
 tation and was still. 1 thought it a fortunate circum- 
 strace that I had got him into his cabin, and was deter 
 mined to secure him. I shut the door and buttoned it 
 on the outside ; I then took a round stick of wood, which 
 was sawn off square at each end, and seven or eight 
 inches in diameter, set one end against the door and the 
 other end against a bulkhead, which was about three 
 and a half feet from the door; the billet of wood would 
 admit of tacking a piece oi board to one end of it, and it 
 then of suitable length to secure the door. I pressed 
 it down with my whole weight and thought the door per 
 fectly secure; and, having had no sleep the night before, 
 I turned in. 
 
 The captain made no noise, and as he had slept none 
 the night before, I flattered myself that he might rest 
 comfortably, he being then perfectly still. As for James 
 Annjs he seemed to be a very shiftless and stupid being; 
 he was very low spirited, but had slept well the night be 
 fore. The weather was very pleasant and we had noth 
 ing to disturb us through the night. In the morning 
 Annis went on deck between day and sunrise, but soon 
 returned in great surprise, saying, " Sherburne, where 
 is Capt. Arnold?" I answered he is in the cabin. t( He 
 is aot on board," said Annis ; I went immediately on 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 43 
 
 deck and saw the cabin door open, I looked in and could 
 find nothing of the captain, his clothes all lay on deck 
 except his waistcoat ; his shirt lay on the top of his 
 clothes and his silver sleeve buttons lay upon his shirt. 
 The reader will judge of my surprise and distress on 
 this awful occasion ! 
 
 The water being smooth and clear, and being but 
 about twelve or fifteen feet deep, and the bottom white 
 sand, was plainly to be seen. The other shallop being 
 \vhhin fifty yards of us, and they having the skiff, we 
 hailed them and informed them of the circumstance, and 
 requested them to come with the boat, which they did. 
 We went round and round the shallop, enlarging our 
 circle and viewing the bottom very carefully for a con 
 siderable distance, and then went on shore and walked 
 round the beach to see if we could discover any tracks 
 of bare feet in the sand, but all our endeavours to find 
 him were abortive. The question now was, what shall we 
 do ? Loyd was no navigator, though he was well ac 
 quainted with the eastern shore. His plan was to take 
 both shallops under his command, and endeavor to get 
 them to Salem. He flattered himself that he should 
 have a deserving share if he should succeed. 
 
 I proposed that we should all take the best shallop, 
 and take the sails and light rigging off the other and 
 endeavor to make the best of our way home, but the 
 old man would not consent. 
 
 Ours was the largest and best of the two, and of course 
 had the best cargo, but theirs had the best sails. I then 
 proposed that Annis and myself should go on board with 
 him and quit ours, but he would not agree to this. 
 
 I felt myself in a critical situation. I was not yet six 
 teen years of age. Annis knew not a point of the com 
 pass, he had never attempted to steer, knew nothing 
 about working the vessel, and appeared quite low spirit 
 ed and stupid. We were yet in an enemy s country, 
 had to cross the gulf of St. Lawrence, and get by Halifax 
 (if we could.) and the wind yet against us. The thoughts 
 of taking charge of this little vessel, and taking her 
 to the United States, with all these difficulties to en 
 counter, together with the uncertainty of the weather, 
 
44 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 was extremely embarrassing. The inflexibility, folly 
 and unfriendliness of old Mr. Loyd, increased my per 
 plexity and excited my grief, as well as my resentment. 
 But he had very much the advantage of me, and I was 
 obliged to submit to my fate. JNight came on and when 
 the sun sank from the western horizon, and the sable 
 curtains of night were drawn around me, I retired to the 
 cabin with Annis, with a deep gloom upon my mind. 
 My thoughts were much employed upon Captain Arnold, 
 his wife and children. They lived within half a mile of 
 my mother, yet I had but little acquaintance with them 
 or with Captain Arnold himself, until within six or eight 
 weeks. He considered himself as my guardian, (as did 
 the worthy Captain Powers,) and was very partial to me, 
 and I much respected him. I do not know that I slept 
 any that night. I retraced the trials through which I 
 had passed, and attempted to look forward, but all was 
 darkness. It may well be thought that at that time of 
 life I could cry; but whether I attempted to look to God 
 for protection and direction, I cannot now say. 
 
 The next day the wind was more favourable but rath 
 er light. We got under weigh. Annis could assist me 
 in getting up the anchor, and hoisting the sails, but he 
 knew not how to trim them to the wind, nor could he 
 steer. Common sense may judge whether I was to steer 
 this little vessel all the way to the United States. It is 
 true that Annis might in a few days learri to steer his 
 trick, as the sailor calls his tour at the helm, but it must 
 devolve on me to stand at the helm all the succeeding 
 night. At about noon we discovered a ship, and soon 
 ascertained that she wished to speak with us ; she chas 
 ed us several hours, but the wind d) ing away, she sent 
 her boats. They took Mr. Loyd on board and examined 
 him. She was an armed vessel of about eighteen or 
 twenty guns, and no doubt she was an American priva 
 teer, but was not honorable enough to let us know what 
 she was, or who commanded her. The boat which 
 boarded us, plundered us of some fishing necs, lines, &c. 
 and let us pass. 
 
 Towards night I spoke with Loyd and entreated him 
 to consider my situation \ that I should be obliged to 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 45 
 
 stand at the helm all night ; I plead with him to let Sam 
 uel Wilds come on board with me, flnd take Annis 
 on board with him. To this he agreed, and Wilds con 
 sented, greatly to my relief. Mr. Loyd could not 
 have compelled Wilds to have left his own vessel, and 
 there could be no doubt that Annis would prefer taking 
 his chance with an old sailor. 
 
 Early in the evening, we had something of a breeze, 
 and it continued to increase, and by midnight we had 
 quite a gale, and our vessel seemed to labor hard. The 
 night was dark ; neither moon or stars could be seen. 
 We could not " cast anchors out of the stern," as did 
 Paul s company off Malta. We no doubt as earnestly 
 wished for day as they did, and when the day arose, al 
 though so desirable, yet it was only to discover to us 
 more visibly our danger. Our consort was about half 
 a mile ahead of us ; the clouds looked wild and ocean 
 rough. We had lost our boat which was towing at our 
 stern. At about sunrise we split our mainsail from top 
 to bottom, and with difficulty got it down and secured it. 
 At that moment we were obliged to put away before the 
 wind, and scud under a whole foresail which was almost 
 new. It would have been much in our favor if our fore 
 sail had been reefed, which would have reduced it at 
 least a quarter part ; but it was impracticable for one 
 boy to get this sail down, reef it, and set it again ; our 
 foremast was now in great danger from having so much 
 sail upon it, for the wind was not steady but blew in 
 gusts, and when a heavy gust came, our foremast would 
 bend like a whip. Our vessel being heavy laded, labor 
 ed hard in so rough a sea, which occasioned her to leak 
 so much as to keep one of us bailing most of the time, 
 while the other must stand at the helm. 
 
 It was not a little distressing to be und v the necessi 
 ty of leaving the other shallop, for we were dependant on 
 Loyd to pilot us along the eastern shore. We were 
 now scudding before the wind ; they were steering 
 nearly at right angles from us, but in less than half an 
 hour they were obliged to put .away also : this was an 
 alleviation to our distress for a short season, but we were 
 soon depressed again. The gale increased and of course 
 
46 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 the sea was more boisterous, and the leak increased ; 
 we were very fearful that we could not weather the gale, 
 and every moment expected that our mast and sail 
 would go over the bow ; and in that case, we should 
 have foundered in a few minutes. At about 12 o clock, 
 we discovered land directly ahead of us ; it proved to be 
 a small island, and it seemed impossible for us to avoid 
 running right on it, and in that case we must have been 
 dashed to pieces at the first blow. 
 
 It now seemed as if our fate was sealed. We ven 
 tured to bear off a little but could not possibly look clear 
 of the island. The time now was short ere our case 
 would be determined, for we were running at least at 
 ihe rate of twelve or fourteen miles an hour. The oth 
 er shallop was on our starboard beam, at least a half a 
 mile distant, and could easily clear away the island. It 
 was not perhaps more than fifty rods diameter. It was 
 our constant care to haul as much as possible to the 
 right, and some times we could just look by ; I kept the 
 helni all the while by Wilds request, as he considered 
 rne the best helmsman. As we drew near the island 
 our case looked more favorable ; when we got within a 
 mile of the island we could look just clear of it. This 
 circumstance I think must have been owing to the cur 
 rent, which must have been setting to the west at that 
 lime. There was, however, a reef of rocks, which ran 
 off from the island, over which we must and did pass 
 without striking, and cleared the island perhaps about 
 twenty yards, and as soon as we passed it drew imme 
 diately up under its lee : had we been twenty yards fur 
 ther from the island, where the rocks seemed to be the 
 nearest to the surface of the water, we should have stove 
 in pieces. Mr. Loyd with the other shallop passed just 
 without the r<-:f, which did not extend more than sixty or 
 seventy yards from the island. We all arrived about 
 the same time and came to anchor in a small cove, with 
 in thirty yards of the shore, and in about ten fathoms of 
 water. The shore was very bold, and the island a little 
 mound. Thus in the kind providence of God, we were 
 delivered froni a most perilous condition. I can hardly 
 ay hw my mind was occupied about a future state ; 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 47 
 
 under such circumstances sailors generally exert every 
 power to save the body, and too of ten without any regard 
 for the immortal soul, 
 
 I perfectly recollect that I was awfully afraid of death, 
 nor can I bring again to view the danger 1 was in, 
 without shuddering and admiring the kind and merci 
 ful interposition of a gracious God. It is utterly impos 
 sible, however, for me to describe in full, the alternate 
 hopes and fears which pervaded my mind during that 
 dangerous scene. 
 
 It was now more than twenty-four hours since I had 
 taken any food, and I presume that this was the case 
 with most of the company : it was therefore an object 
 to get some refreshment as soon as practicable. 
 
 We hove over a hook and line and very soon drew in 
 a large halibut, and doubtless could have taken in an 
 hundred, if we had been disposed. One however an 
 swered our purpose, and we soon had some cooker v 
 going on while congratulating each other on our escape 
 from destruction. We laid the two shallops as^ear each 
 other as we dared, for although there was no sea, there 
 was a very heavy swell. Although we seemed secure 
 in this place, if the wind had shifted and blown from the 
 opposite point, nothing could have saved us. 
 
 It was not our intention however to continue long in 
 this place. Two nights had now passed, and I had got 
 no sleep, and was quite worn down with anxiety and fa 
 tigue. It was very appalling to notice in what quick 
 succession my conflicts rushed upon me; occasionally I 
 would think of the gloom which so depressed my spirits 
 in York harbour. Wilds tarried with me that night. but 
 told me he should not go to sea again in that shallop. 
 I found it necessary to secure his confidence and friend 
 ship, and I had no great pains to take in doing 
 this, for I found we were of the same opinion. It 
 was my determination to quit the shallop in case that 
 Wilds did. I therefore brought him to this agreement, 
 that upon his honor he would not oppose my going on 
 board Loyd s shallop. I had nothing to fear from Babb 
 or Annis, but I expected to find Mr. Loyd of a hostile 
 temper. He was a man probably fifty years of age ; and 
 
43 
 
 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 although I had but one night s rest in four, I did not 
 sleep much on this night, knowing what must take place 
 on the morrow. 
 
 On the next morning it was quite pleasant. We got 
 breakfast early, and the shallops were drawn so near 
 each other that we could pass from one to the other. 
 Wilds went on board his own vessel again ; 1 went also. 
 I asked Mr. Loyd what we should do ? "Do," said he, 
 il why I must help you mend your mainsail, and try it 
 again." 1 remonstrated against the measure and ob 
 served that Wilds declined continuing with me, and that 
 it was out of the question to think of getting both of the 
 shallops home, and finally told him plainly that I had 
 quit, and was determined to make no further attempt on 
 board of her, and was determined to stay on board his 
 vessel. He began to swear and threaten me ; I retorted 
 and told him that I disregarded his threats, and that I 
 was willing to be in subjection and to do my duty. Ko 
 one interfered, and the old gentleman began to be mod 
 erate, but was determined to take the other shallop in 
 tow. In short we got under weigh, had but a light 
 breeze, and in the course of an hour or two discovered 
 a small schooner making towards us ; we had various 
 conjectures respecting her. We sometimes thought 
 whether it might not be another prize that the privateer 
 had taken. Shortly, however, most of us were rather in 
 clined to think it was an enemy. She continued to gain 
 upon us and we discovered that her crew were rowing ; 
 we were all convinced she was an enemy, except Mr. 
 Loyd. We tried to persuade him to cut the shallop 
 adrift, and try to be off with one, but he declined. 
 They soon began to fire upon us, with long buccanier 
 pieces, into which they put eight or ten musket balls for 
 a charge. The first time they fired, they did not strike 
 us, but we heard their bullets whistle over our heads ; 
 the second time their charge went through the head of 
 our mainsail, and the third time it went through the mid 
 dle of our mainsail. The old gentleman thought it was 
 time to heave to, in order to ascertain who were our vis 
 itors. In a few moments they were along side of us, and 
 twenty men sprang on board with these long guns in 
 
ANDREW 3HERBURN5. 49 
 
 their hands, loaded, cocked and primed, and presented 
 two or three at each of our breasts, without ceremony, 
 cursing us bitterly, and threatening our lives; we plead 
 tor quarters, but they with violence reprimanded us, and 
 seemed determined to take our lives, after they had suf 
 ficiently gratified themselves with the most bitter impre 
 cations that language could afford. There were one or 
 two who interceded for us. One of these was their com 
 mander, but their entreaties seemed to increase the 
 rage of some of the others. We stood trembling and 
 awaiting their decisions, not presuming to. remonstrate, 
 for some of them seemed like perfect furies. At length 
 their captain and several others who appeared more ra 
 tional, prevailed on those heady fellows to forbear their 
 rashness. Their first business was to get their prizes 
 under way for their own port or harbor, which was call 
 ed Grandbank. 
 
 By this time, say two or three o clock P. M. there was 
 quite a pleasant breeze. The Newfoundlanders (for I 
 am inclined for the present, to forbefr calling them Eng 
 lish, or the Irish,) made it their business to go into par 
 ticular inquiries respecting what had transpired with us 
 since we left the bay. They having some of us on board 
 each vessel: Capt. Arnold had a copy of the privateer s 
 commission; this paper I had preserved, though I could 
 not read it. The wind being fair, we arrived at Grand- 
 bank before night, and almost the whole village were 
 collected to see the Yankee prisoners. We were taken 
 on shore, and soon surrounded, perhaps, by a hundred 
 people. Amongst them was an old English lady of dis 
 tinction, who appeared to have an excellent education, 
 and to whose opinion and instructions they all seemed to 
 pay an especial deference. She was the only person 
 amongst them who inquired after papers. Mr. Loyd had 
 none; I did not know that he or any other person present, 
 knew that it was necessary that we should have papers,ex- 
 cept this old lady. I presented the papers I had preserved; 
 this lady took them, and commenced reading them audi 
 bly, and without interruption, until she read the clause in 
 the privatejer s letter of marque and reprisal,which author- 
 5 
 
50 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ized to "burn, sink, or destroy," &c. &c. Many of the 
 people became so exceedingly exasperated, that they 
 swore we ought to be killed outright. They were chief 
 ly West countrymen and Irishmen; rough, and quite un 
 cultivated, and were in. a state of complete anarchy; 
 there was neither magistrate nor minister among them; 
 they appeared very loyal, however, to his Majesty. 
 
 The old lady interposed, and soon called them to or 
 der: she informed them that we were prisoners of war, 
 and ought to be treated with humanity, and conveyed to 
 a BritisEi armed station. She then went on with her 
 reading and closed without further interruption. 
 
 This good woman gave direction and they began to 
 prepare some refreshment for us; they hung on a pot and 
 boiled some corned codfish and salted pork: when it was 
 sufficiently boiled, they took the pot out of doors, where 
 there was a square piece of board which had a cleat on 
 each edge, the corners being open, they then turned the 
 pot upside down upon the board, and when the water was 
 sufficiently drained] away, the board was set on a table 
 or rather a bench, something higher than a common ta 
 ble, and the company stood round this table without 
 plates o. forks; they had fish knives to cut their pork, 
 but generally picked up the fish with their fingers, and 
 had hard baked biscuit for their bread generally. 
 
 Having taken our refreshment, we were conducted 
 nto a cooper s shop and locked up, the windows secured 
 and a guard placed outside. Wo endeavored to com 
 pose ourselves as well as we could, but remained igno 
 rant how we were to be disposed of. 
 
 The next morning we were put on board a shallop, 
 and confined in the fish room, which was a very uncom 
 fortable place; every thing was taken from us, except 
 what we had upon our backs, even our shoes were taken 
 from our feet. We were taken up the bay to a small 
 harbor, called Cornish; this was the residence of Charles 
 Grandy, whom we had captured when we first came on 
 the coast; nor did he forget the kindness he had received 
 from us; he appeared willing to have done more for us than 
 was in his power to do. He presented us with a large 
 flour loaf and a plate of butter. He seemed to be gene 
 ralissimo of this little port; there were but few fam- 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 51 
 
 iiies here, and they all appeared to be in Charley s 
 service. 
 
 Having taken our refreshment, we were locked up in 
 a warehouse, and carefully guarded. Next morning we 
 took an early breakfast, furnished by our good friend 
 Grandy, whose partiality towards us was evidently dis 
 gusting to some of our guard. 
 
 We were taken six or eight miles up a river, and 
 landed, in order to strike across the cape to Placcntia 
 bay. We were guarded by seven sturdy fellows, with 
 their long muskets; some of them were very rude, and 
 not a little abusive; they called the distance from Fo/- 
 tune bay over to Placentia bay, twenty miles; it passed 
 through a most dreary wilderness. The timber in general 
 was small, but there was an abundance of briars and 
 craggy underbrush, which was very injurious to our feet 
 and legs, our shoes having been taken from us; nor were 
 we any ways equal to those deer hunters in travelling 
 this wilderness. Poor eld Mr. Loyd was most to be 
 pitied, for he began to lag early in the day, and frequent 
 ly received heavy blows with the breeches of their guns. 
 In the course of the day we each received a hard biscuit 
 and a small slice of raw pork. This however could not 
 be considered very hard fare, but our journey was ex 
 ceedingly fatiguing. It was night when we got over to 
 the shore of Placentia bay, and were yet four or five 
 miles from a little station, where there was a small bat 
 tery and a few regular soldiers. The little port when 
 we arrived, was occupied by a rich old Jerseyman who 
 had a considerable number of shallops and fisherrnen 
 employed in his service, and some of them had been 
 treated rudely by American privateers; the old man was 
 exceedingly exasperated when he ascertained that we 
 were American prisoners, and insisted that we ought to 
 be immediately put to death. He protested that he 
 would not supply us with any thing to eat, or any shel 
 ter for the night. But our guard received their instruc 
 tions from the good old lady at Grandbank, and they 
 threatened to present him to his Majesty s officers. The 
 old man abruptly quitted them, and went to his house. 
 The guard took possession of his brew house in which. 
 
52 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 
 
 he had brewed that day, the floor was wet and very mud 
 dy. I went out and broke off my arms full of fir and 
 spruce boughs for my bed, (I should have preferred the 
 bare floor if it had been dry,) and lay me down to rest, 
 for I was exceedingly tired and sore. Some of the 
 guard were busy in getting something to eat, nnd I fell 
 asleep. They procured a plenty of corned codfish, and 
 boiled it ; one of them came to me, gave me a shake and 
 bade me arise and eat my supper. Although I had had 
 so scanty a dinner, I was so extremely tired that I de 
 clined getting up, but he gave me a pretty heavy thump, 
 saying, with an oath, " get up you Yankee, and take 
 your supper." I thought it best without further cere 
 mony, to comply with his commands ; I arose and went 
 to the table ; it was sufficiently long for our whole com 
 pany to stand round it. Our supper was served up in 
 the same style as at Grandbank, that is, on several pieces 
 of board fitted for the purpose. We had several saucers 
 of sweet oil; there were neither plates, knives or forks, 
 on the tables; each took some fish in his fingers and dip 
 ped it in the oil and ate it. 
 
 With my eyes half open, and not a little disgusted at 
 being disturbed from my sweet repose, I took hold of 
 some fish with my thumb and fingers, dipped it into the oil 
 as the others did, and put it into my mouth, but had great 
 difficulty in swallowing it, it was so offensive to my taste ; 
 I ate a few mouthfuls of the fish without oil, and a small 
 piece of ship bread, and very gladly returned to my bed 
 of boughs again, and slept soundly all night. In the 
 morning, we had to walk four or five miles to the little 
 battery, (I think the place was called " Morteer;") but 
 our walk was much more distressing than it had been the 
 day before; we were very stiff when we began our 
 march; our feet were exceedingly sore and our way ex 
 tremely rough. We had to pass over a promontory, 
 the ascent was difficult and tiresome, and the descent 
 even dangerous: in some places very steep, and in oth 
 ers almost perpendicular. We had to catch and hold 
 fast on the bushes, to prevent falling headlong upon the 
 rocks below. Having arrived at Morteer, they fired one 
 of their pieces of artillery for joy, that some Yankee 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 53 
 
 prisoners ha d fallen into their hands, for they also had 
 been visited by American privateers. I did not under 
 stand that the inhabitants had been molested, but their 
 stores and shallops had been plundered. I believe we 
 were the only prisoners who had been captured upon 
 their coast. From this place, we were taken to another 
 harbor, called Buren, (if I have not through forgetful- 
 ness interchanged the names of these places,) where 
 there was a large shallop going directly to Placentia. 
 We were put, on board and shortly set sail. Our guard 
 of seven men returned to Fortune bay. The crew of 
 the shallop consisted of three only, but had six of those 
 long muskets loaded, and laying by them. The men 
 appeared more humane than our former guard; and they 
 having ascertained that we had had no breakfast, hove 
 to, and in a very few minutes hauled in several tine 
 codfish, which they boiled with some pork. 
 
 This with some ship bread, furnished us with a good 
 breakfast and was much more palatable to me than was 
 my supper the night before. We were all kept forward, 
 and not permitted to come near the quarter deck, where 
 lay the loaded guns. The distance to Placentia, I think 
 was something like twenty or twenty-five leagues; the 
 wind was fair, and we had just about as much as could 
 be wished for, and the weather very pleasant. We 
 arrived at Placentia sometime before night: one of the 
 men went on shore in their skiff, and gave information 
 of us, and shortly the government boat came off, and 
 took us on shore, to the commissary s house. We were 
 conducted into a room by ourselves, and in a few min 
 utes the commissary came in with several other gen 
 tlemen, who examined us particularly. They ap 
 peared to be gentlemen of refined sensibility ; they 
 deeply regretted the unhappy discord which existed 
 between the mother country and the colonies; their feel 
 ings were much hurt at seeing the condition of our feet, 
 and gave us some stockings and shoes, The commissa 
 ry informed us that we must take up our residence in gar 
 rison. He withdrew and sent us in some flour loaves, and 
 butter. Soon after we had eaten our bread and butter, 
 we heard the sound of the bagpipes at the door, and a 
 
54 MEMOIRS Of 
 
 
 
 messenger was sent to call us out. On going to the 
 door we were taken into custody by a sergeant s guard 
 of Highlanders, in their kilts, plaids, Scotch bonnets, and 
 checkered stockings, accoutred with guns and fixed 
 bayonets, broad swords, &c. 1 had seen the like before 
 in Charleston, S. C. but to the most of our company this 
 was quite a novel appearance. Babb, Annis, and Willis, 
 gazed with astonishment at the singular appearance of 
 those soldiers. Sandy changed his tune, and we had 
 orders to march, and were conducted into the fort, and 
 confined to the guard room, and a sentinel was placed at 
 the door. The town of Placentia is beautifully situated 
 on a low flat beach of stones, a large proportion of which 
 are suitable for paving streets, and of every various size. 
 The harbor is formed by the confluence of two small 
 rivers, (one called the northeast, and the other the south 
 west arms ;) from the junction of those rivers to the open, 
 bay, is not more than two hundred yards ; the town is 
 bounded on the south by the southwest arm ; on the 
 south side of this arm or river, is a very steep and high 
 mountain, covered with evergreens; a similar mountain 
 comes almost down to the town on the west ; it is bound 
 ed by the bay or ocean on the north ; another mountain 
 lies on the eastern side of the town and harbor, on a 
 bench of which is a strong castle. The fort and garri 
 son are situated in the northeast angle of the town and 
 are well built. The bench extends a considerable dis 
 tance northwesterly along the margin of the bay, and in 
 some places it may be a quarter of a mile wide or more. 
 Those benches are to be found wherever you find a fish 
 ing station in Newfoundland, and were in Divine Prov 
 idence designed to make the fish upon. As Placentia 
 was by far the largest fishing station that 1 saw in New 
 foundland, I will in this place give some description of 
 their manner of taking and making codfish upon the 
 coast : but as it is more than forty years since, it will be 
 but an imperfect account. The present impression of 
 my mind is, that some of the fishing ground is vastly 
 preferable to others ; the men take the fish and general 
 ly have them as fast as they can haul them. For bait 
 thej have a small fish which they take in nets, called 
 
ANDREW SREHBCR*.. 
 
 caplin ; they are about six inches long, s 
 excellent ; their manner of curing them is to salt them 
 lightly, and with a sail needle and twine string them up 
 by the head, and dry or smoke them. 
 
 The men take the codfish to shore or to the stage, 
 which is a kind of wharf, over which there is generally 
 a shed. The women and girls take and very dexter 
 ously rip them open, and take out their inwards, (reserv 
 ing the liver,) slat oft* their heads and split them. They 
 salt them in large vats, and when sufficiently salted, they 
 are thown into a kind of crate where the tide can flow 
 in and wash them. I believe the men generally assist in 
 getting them on the bench where they are dried, and then 
 put up in stacks which are much larger at the top than at 
 the bottom. The girls who are trained to this business, 
 nre seldom tall, generally thick and look remarkably 
 healthy; they have very large feet, I presume in conse 
 quence of walking barefoot over the beach stones, for I 
 did not see any with shoes. 
 
 The Governor of Placentia was a Col. Hawkins, a 
 gentleman in deportment. He had but a part of his reg 
 iment in this place. His wife was the daughter of an 
 old Highlander, who was a private soldier. He and a 
 number of other soldiers had their wives and children 
 with them, in the garrison. 
 
 The Colonel I presume was not above thirty , and his 
 lady not much over twenty. She was cheerful and hu 
 mane. We had not been long in garrison before Wilds 
 and myself were invited by the Governor to assist rowing 
 his barge up the river, where he had salmon nets ; and 
 as we lads were more ^expert in rowing, than were the 
 soldiers, Wilds was taken for bowman, and myself for 
 strokesman. There were a number of islands in the 
 river, on which there were raspberries, gooseberries, and 
 a variety of wild berries which were very good. The 
 Governor and his lady were generally landed on some 
 of those islands to amuse themselves in picking berries, 
 while the rest of us attended to the salmon nets. This 
 lady would amuse herself in asking questions about yan- 
 kees, their manners, customs, &c. She much regretted 
 ihat we boys should be prisoners, and detained from our 
 
56 MEMOIRS 0* 
 
 parents. (She had two children of her own.) On our 
 return from our first excursion up the river, which gen 
 erally took us most part of the day, we were sent into 
 the Governor s kitchen, and furnished with a good sup 
 per; this was the more acceptable as our allowance of 
 provisions was rather scant. Mrs. Hawkins was al 
 ways careful whenever we went up the river to give us 
 some supper. After we had been several times up the 
 river, we were all allowed to walk in the yard by day, 
 but could not go out of the yard without a guard. We 
 went out however on no occasion except to bring water 
 from an excellent spring on the beach, which was thirty 
 rods from the garrison. I do not know but what the 
 whole town as well as the garrison, obtained their water 
 from the same spring. 
 
 It was perhaps sometime in May, 1T81, that we came 
 to this place, and the season passed away until Septem 
 ber, without any prospect of release. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Col Hawkins and Lady Duchess of Cumberland comes 
 into port Mr. Baggs impressed Cast away on Cape 
 St. Manfs Sufferings in the Wilderness Dead 
 men picked up and buried Arrive at Placentia Im 
 prisoned again and put on board sloop of war Fairy 
 Doomed to serve his Majesty Whipped Mr. Fox 
 Arrives in England Put on board the Admiral 1 S 
 ship Dunkirk Court of Admiralty Committed to 
 Mill Prison for rebellion, fyc. Arrives at Mill 
 Prison. 
 
 ABOUT the middle of September, there came in a 
 twenty-two gun ship, called the Duchess of Cumber 
 land. She was built in Beverly, Massachusetts, and 
 called the Congress ; had been captured by a British 
 frigate that summer, and taken into his Majesty s 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 57 
 
 service. She came to Placentia, to convoy a number 
 of English merchantmen, which came there to take in 
 cargoes offish for Europe. While this ship lay in the 
 harbor, one of her men deserted ; diligent search was 
 made, but he could not be found. It was suspected 
 that some of the inhabitants had concealed him, and the 
 officers impressed one of the inhabitants by the name of 
 Baggs, in his stead. Gov. Hawkins put us prisoners on 
 board this ship, to be taken to St. John s, the capital of 
 Newfoundland, where there was a prison-ship, and a 
 considerable number of prisoners, and it was expected 
 that there would be a cartel sent from there to Boston 
 that fall. Thus there appeared some prospect of our 
 getting home again, but our hopes were shortly blasted. 
 
 The ship put to sea, and on the second or third day 
 we had something of a blow and rain; in the afternoon 
 a strange sail was discovered, unto which we immedi 
 ately gave chase, but as the wind increased, and the 
 ship was going out of her course, after about an hour 
 the chase was given up. We hove about, reefed our 
 topsails, got our starbourd tacks on board, and stood on 
 our course. 
 
 It became necessary to give Cape St. Mary s a birth; 
 the wind increased and it became necessary to close reef 
 the topsails. At about three or four o clock, they thought 
 best to put the ship away a little, supposing they had 
 passed the Cape. Mr. Baggs had been skipper of a shal 
 lop for twenty years, he was therefore invited to take 
 his station on the forecastle, the station of the most, ac 
 complished seamen: the forecastlemen by turns steer 
 the ship, and when the helm was relieved at four o clock, 
 Mr. Baggs asked the helmsman what course they were 
 running, and when he ascertained the course, said he, 
 " if we run that course two hours, the ship will be on 
 shore." At this the sailors were alarmed and advised 
 Baggs to give this information to the officers on the quar 
 ter deck. He went, aft and informed the officers that he 
 was well acquainted with the coast, and that in his 
 judgment, the ship and their lives were in danger. 
 
 But those British officers were as little inclined to 
 hearken to the advice of a Newfoundland fisherman, as 
 
58 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 Gen. Bniddock was to be influenced by the more dis 
 creet Washington. " Fine times," said Braddock, 
 " when a young Buckskin c;>n teach a British General 
 hov. to fight." If he had condescended to have been advi, 
 eel by the brave Washington, he might probably have sav 
 ed his life and been victorious; and if the officers had 
 hearkened to Baggs, they might have saved the ship 
 and many lives; but they treated him with abusive lan 
 guage and ordered him oft the quarter deck, or they 
 would kick him off. Mr. Baggs went forward not a lit 
 tle chagrined; the sailors forward kept a good look out, 
 but the weather was so thick that they could see but a 
 very short distance. 
 
 I have now to record one of the most eventful periods 
 of my life. Pen cannot describe, nor can imagination 
 conceive, the terrific scene of a shipwreck, like the one 
 I shall attempt to describe. It must be experienced to 
 be comprehended. 
 
 On the 19th of September, 1781, at about 5 o clock, 
 P. M. there were loud and repeated cries from the 
 forecastle, breakers on the lee bow T breakers ahead / 
 This doleful sound caused every ear to tingle, and every 
 heart to thrill! Immediately from the quarter deck the 
 following sea phrase was heard, pronounced with em 
 phasis, " stand by to about ship, hard to lee, fore sheet, 
 fore top bowline, jib and staysail sheets let go! ; The 
 ship immediately rounded to, head to the wind ; but 
 before the foretopsail could possibly be filled on the oth 
 er tack, the violence of the wind and waves giving the 
 ship stern way, she was precipitated, (stern first,) against 
 a rugged bluff of rocks, which was, I should judge, fif 
 teen or twenty feet above water, almost perpendicular, 
 having some shelves and crags, however; two men who 
 were near the taffrel sprang from the taffrel rail on a 
 shelf of the rock. 
 
 The ship struck with such violence as to break off her 
 rudder and knock the man overboard, who was at the 
 helm; a fourth attempted to reach the rock but failed 
 and went overboard. The two who fell overboard were 
 immediately dashed against the rock and disappeared. 
 
 The ship was no longer to be governed, we were all 
 at the mercy of the waves. All was confusion, conster- 
 
ANDREW SHEREURNE. 59 
 
 nation and despair. The ship stuck fast upon a craggy 
 rock which lay under water, about twice her length 
 from the shore, and probably broke in some of 
 her floor timbers. All this took place before half the 
 people who were below, got upon deck, which was near 
 ly one half of the crew. I was going up the fore hatch 
 way when she struck on this rock, and looking down 
 in the hold, I saw "the water gushing up with violence, 
 (through the gravel in which the lower tier of water casks 
 were stowed,) in a stream eight or ten inches in diam 
 eter. I with difficulty gained the quarter deck. A 
 most terrifying scene was now presented to my view. 
 The ship rolled so that her yard arms nearly touched the 
 water: the sea was breaking feather white all around us. 
 Under the fog bank which hung over the shore, we 
 could discover the mountain, but could not see the top 
 of it; the wind was heavy and increasing; the rain de 
 scended in torrents; the sea roaring like thunder; night 
 coming on apace, some of the officers raving and swear 
 ing, some crying, and others praying, some inactive and 
 desponding, others active and courageous. The long 
 boat was got out, but by the time she struck the water, 
 there came a heavy sea and crushed her against the 
 ship s side, as quick as you could crush an egg shell in 
 your hand. 
 
 The ship was now laboring extremely, and fast fill 
 ing with water, nor did there appear the leaft prospect 
 or possibility of another person s being saved, and those 
 upon the rock appeared not to have any prospect of re 
 lease, but to be doomed to see all the remainder of their 
 shipmates perish. With regard to myself, 1 might say 
 with Watts, 
 
 " The tumult of my thoughts, 
 Held me in hard susponse." 
 
 Orders were given to cut away the masts ; after two 
 or three blows the mainmast went by the board, the for 
 mast and mizen-mast also followed without a stroke. 
 On the fall of our masts, the ship cleared from the rock, 
 on which she had been some time hanging, and drifted 
 towards the shore, thumping against the rocks which lay 
 under water, with tremendous force, and thereby throw- 
 
60 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ing us about and against each other at a most dreadful 
 rate. In this place the wind did not blow directly on 
 shore, but we were drifting into a sort of cove where the 
 shore was dead to the leeward of us, and almost perpen 
 dicular for twenty or thirty feet. In our course we were 
 brought up by some rocks, which were so near the sur 
 face of the water, that the ship could not get over them; 
 she lay nearly parrallel with the shore against where she 
 lay, and careening considerably towards the shore ; ev- 
 ry sea that came gave her a tremendous shock. Her 
 decks began to open in some places, sufficiently wide 
 for a man to go through into the hold ; every sea that 
 came would lift her stern considerably. Our ship was 
 in some respects circumstanced like that in which Paul 
 the apostle was wrecked, on the Isle of Malta, for u the 
 fore part stuck fast and remained immovable, but the 
 hinder part was broken with the violence of the waves." 
 There were five prisoners of us on board, but I heard of 
 no council to put us to death, for there was not the 
 probability or even possibility of our escape by swim 
 ming ; and it was equally impossible for any one to save 
 himself on " boards, or broken pieces of the ship." 
 
 It became necessary, however, to contrive some meth 
 od of escape; swearing was yet continued, and praying 
 also continued; for my own part, I believe I did not vo 
 cally employ myself in either. By the time the ship, 
 stuck fast , the two sailors who jumped on the rocks, had: 
 with great difficulty got nearly abreast of us. 
 
 A small spar was procured and a large rope > say an 
 inch and a half in diameter; the rope was made fast to 
 the spar and hove over the stern ; the waves carried the 
 spar on shore, but not within the reach of the men on 
 shore; of course it was drawn on board again. I think 
 this was repeated three or four times before the men or* 
 shore succeeded in getting it; they maeb it fast round a 
 rock as large as a small hay stack, the sailors on board 
 drew it as straight as they could, and made it fast round 
 the stump of the foremast. 
 
 Abreast of the ship there was .a small gravelly beach, 
 not much more than the length of the ship, with some 
 large rocks upon it, but the wind did not blow directly 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 61 
 
 towards this beach, by as much perhaps as three or four 
 points of the compass* 
 
 It was judged that the ship lay about eight rods from 
 the shore at right angles, but the distance was something 
 more right ahead from the ship; for as soon as this little 
 beach terminated, the shore began to haul out again, and 
 had the ship been driven over the reef which she struck 
 upon, she must have gone ashore in going three times 
 her length, where she must have gone to pieces in less 
 than twenty minutes, and where a soul could not have 
 been saved. The rope which I mentioned being pre 
 pared, there seemed some small degree of hope, though 
 when the waves ran, they would bury it ten feet or more 
 under water, for it was drawn so straight that it could 
 not rise with the sea. 
 
 A man attempted to go on shore by this rope, and ap 
 peared to succeed very well until he got a rod and a half, 
 or two rods from the ship, and when he got so far that 
 the ship did not break any of the violence of the waves, 
 he was soon washed off, and was immediately dashed 
 against the rocks, and the next sea buried him and he 
 was seen no more. The next who attempted went the 
 same way. It is probable that they exerted themselves 
 too much at first, and were considerably exhausted when 
 they came to that place, where the most strength was 
 needed. (This thought however did not occur to me 
 at that time.) The ship could not have been placed in a 
 more favorable position to facilitate our escape; she was 
 completely bound by large craggy rocks, some of which 
 had penetrated several feet into her bottom; her stern 
 lay rather the highest, and her larboard quarter broke 
 the waves. The crew were huddled forward, upon and 
 under the forecastle. The fate of the two men who had 
 been washed off from the rope, seemed for some time to 
 discourage any farther attempt. At length, however, a 
 third adventured, and succeeded in getting on shore, and 
 was joyfully received by the two first who got on shore; 
 a fourth made an attempt and was lost. I think that the 
 fifth, sixth, and seventh succeeded in getting on shore. 
 
 Our situation appeared more and more gloomy as 
 night was fast approaching. There were several lads 
 who were midshipmen; they seemed inclined to make 
 6 
 
62 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 an attempt again and again, but recoiled: their bitter 
 cries and lamentations were enough to pierce the hard 
 est hearts. I began to think of trying myself, but there 
 was but a faint hope of success, 1 believe there had 
 ten reached the shore by the rope, and four had been 
 washed off. I buttoned up my outside jacket, drew my 
 shirt out of my trowsers; I had on my head an old fash 
 ioned Dutch cap, which went on very tight. As I could 
 swim tolerably well, I flattered myself that it would be- 
 in my favor; I took hold of the rope and fell into the wa 
 ter, but soon perceived that I could derive no benefit 
 from the use of my legs, the water being 1 in such an agi 
 tated state. The iirst swell and wave which run was in 
 some measure obstructed by the ship, it however buried 
 me for a short time. When the second sea came, I wa3 
 exposed to its whole violence; while it was running it 
 seemed as if I should have been pressed to death, and 
 tiie time seemed exceedingly long. I was hanging by 
 my hands and stretched as straight horizontally, as if I 
 had been suspended in the air; but before the current 
 abated, my right hand gave way, and was carried back 
 iu a moment. O the multiplicity of thoughts that rush 
 ed into my distracted mind! One among the many was 
 that the left hand would continue its hold until I should 
 drown; another was that I must directly appear before 
 my Judge. I felt my left hand and arm faultering, and 
 I expected to be immediately in eternity; I wished to 
 express a thousand desires in one, and I felt disposed to 
 cast myself on the mercy of God. O the awful solemni 
 ties of eternity! But I am laboring in vain, for I can 
 not possibly express what my feelings were. God spar 
 ed me. The undertow swept me under the rope; I 
 hore my right arm over the rope and instantly griped 
 fast hold the collar of my jacket and other clothes, and 
 after taking breath, mnde all possible exertion to draw 
 myself towards the shore, before another sea should 
 come. The third wave stretched me, but having my 
 arm over the rope, I was better fortified, nor was it by 
 any means so violent as the second, and when it went 
 back it left me suspended by the rope, and I could al 
 most touch the hideous ragged rocks with my feet, but 
 durst not let go my hold, because the men on shore 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 63 
 
 could not yet afford me any assistance. The fourth 
 wave floated me a little nearer to the shore, but itg 
 strength was almost spent before it reached me. As 
 soon as it withdrew, two sailors followed it, each holding 
 on the rope with one hand, they each took hold on me 
 with one hand, drew me upon the beach; they laid me 
 down on my back, and left me. I was perfectly help 
 less; I had not strength for a time to move hand or loot. 
 After a while 1 found by struggling to get upon my side, 
 I with difficulty succeeded, and got so as to set up ? but 
 could not yet get upon my feet. It was now near sun 
 down. I cast my eyes upon the wreck. I thought 1 
 felt truly thankful to God for such a preservation and 
 deliverance. I promised henceforward to serve him; 
 but alas, the depravity of the human heart! By the 
 time I was able to walk, they had found out a better 
 method to get the men on shore. The man who first 
 went ashore by the rope was uncommonly strong; he had 
 the courage to go on board again. He was an officer, 
 but I do not now recollect either his name or his rank; he 
 and other officers contrived to haul the men ashore with 
 small ropes; he fixed a traveller on the rope, by which 
 he first went on shore, so that he could not wash off, and 
 took with him a small rope which was sufficiently long 
 to reach the shore ; the end on the wreck was made fast 
 round a man s body, and another equally as long fixed 
 to it; the man then fell into the water, and the men on 
 shore would run with their end, and those on board 
 would pay out, taking care to keep the rope taut, to pre 
 vent the man from dashing against the rocks. Having 
 got one of these ropes on shore, it was easy to fix others. 
 By the time I was able to walk down to the edge of 
 the water, they were hauling five or six men at once on 
 different ropes. They would not be longer drawing a 
 man on shore than while a person might walk eight rods 
 with a quick step. There were more than a hundred 
 men drawn on shore in this way. Some of them were 
 considerably bruised, however. But the darkness came 
 on before all could be got ashore in this way, and there 
 were probably thirty yet on the wreck, which could not 
 now be seen. Mr Loyd and Annis were among the 
 number. 
 
64 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Our next object was to render our situation as com 
 fortable as circumstances would permit. We soon as 
 certained that we could not ascend the mountain. The 
 rain and wind continued, and we were entirely without 
 shelter. With some difficulty we ascended the moun 
 tain about ten or fifteen yards and came to a kind of 
 hollow, but there was not sufficient room for us all to 
 lie down, without laying one upon another, and this we 
 found to be most in our favor, for although it was quite 
 uncomfortable for one man to have one or two others 
 laying on him, it was better than to be all the while mo 
 tionless and exposed to the storm. Sometimes there 
 were two laying upon me; sometimes one under me, 
 and another on me, and sometimes I had two under me. 
 We were, however, obliged frequently to interchange 
 our stations, for when underneath we were too hardly 
 pressed, to long endure the weight upon us; and when 
 outside the rain and cold was very severe. We were 
 frequently annoyed by the feet of those who lay above 
 us, and those below us had the same inconvenience to 
 endure from us. Sometimes those that lay the lowest 
 down where the ground was more steep, would slip 
 down several in a cluster, and slide even to the beach, 
 among the rocks, and on those occasions they did not 
 forget to swear. 
 
 On the whole we had a very uncomfortable night, 
 nnd probably as anxiously u wished for the day, 5 as did 
 Paul and his shipmates, nor can we reasonably suppose 
 that those on the wreck were less anxious. 
 
 About two o clock in the morning, the rain abated, 
 and the wind shifted, and very soon after the ocean be< 
 came less noisy. As day light appeared it was our first 
 care to ascertain whether the ship had gone to pieces, or 
 whether she remained in her old station. We. were not 
 a little rejoiced to find that she still remained. Many 
 of us were so chilled that we could not stand upon our 
 feet. The sun arose clear and warm, and by exercising 
 ourselves on the little beach, we soon found our activity 
 restored. We could converse with those who remained 
 on the wreck, and had a prospect of easily getting 
 on board, when the tide, which was now fast falling, 
 should be down. The masts and spars which before lay 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 65 
 
 ahead of the ship, had worked round and lay between 
 the ship and the shore. It now became an object to as 
 certain where we were, and how to get away. Should 
 any one hereafter feel interested in reading this narra 
 tive, it would without doubt be desirable to have a de 
 scription of this place; I shall therefore attempt to give 
 as -clear a description as I can. 
 
 We were on the eastern side of Cape St. Mary s, per 
 haps ten miles from the pitch, or head of the cape. Our 
 station was against the side of a mountain whose per 
 pendicular height was perhaps five or six hundred feet, 
 and generally so steep and abounding with breaks and 
 precipices, that it was very difficult for a man to ascend 
 it in any place, and in some places it was utterly im 
 practicable. The shore in general very bold; and it 
 is what sailors generally call an iron bound shore. In 
 some places the rocks were almost perpendicular, ten, 
 twenty, and sometimes forty feet high. The reef on 
 which our ship stuck fast, appears to me to have slid out 
 of the mountain, some hundred years ago. It might 
 have been at the time when the adorable Jesus hung upon 
 the cross. 
 
 At half tide and in fair weather, the tops of the rocks 
 on this reef were bare, and it extended ten or twelve rods 
 into the sea where it came to a point, and in the base 
 of this reef by the shore was five or six rods wide, and 
 formed a pleasant beach. The shore in this place was 
 a little indented. If our ship had been two rods further 
 from the shore she must have passed without this reef, 
 arid in that case, have fallen directly on a lee shore, 
 where she must have gone to pieces in a very little 
 time, in a place where it wauld have been impossible for 
 one soul to have landed. Nothing excited more aston 
 ishment than to comprehend how it was, that the two 
 men who first jumped on the rocks, got from that place 
 to the beach. 
 
 At about 8 or 9 o clock, some men got on the wreck, 
 and soon after I went on myself, but did not perceive 
 much difference in appearance, since the time I left her 
 but when the tide went fully down, I went into the hold, 
 which was entirely empty. Every cask, all her ballast^ 
 and every other article wa* washed out. and in 
 6* 
 
66 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 places were very large chasms. The arm chest on the 
 weather side of the quarter deck, remained unhurt. 
 There was found in one of the state rooms, about two 
 hundred pounds of bread, unhurt; and in the harness 
 cask, under the forecastle, there was about two hundred 
 pounds of meat, principally pork. 
 
 After we had eaten some bread and raw meat, a com 
 pany of five or six men was selected, and furnished with 
 an iron bar or two, which were found in the beckets, 
 and some small rigging, and directed to endeavor to 
 find their way up the mountain. In a zig zag direction 
 they reached the summit, and then came down as far as 
 they could with safety, stuck the crowbar into the ground 
 and made fast a rope to it, and then descended by the 
 rope; making one rope fast to another until they got 
 down. In the arm chest before mentioned, there were 
 a number of muskets, some ammunition, tomahawks, 
 cutlasses, &c. In the sailors hammocks, which hung 
 under the gun deck, were found a number of blankets, 
 so that every man could be furnished with one; and all 
 the provisions having been got on shore, every man took 
 some, and all hands prepared to ascend the mountain. 
 There was neither tree nor shrub to be seen. 
 
 Mr. BagS, whose counsel had been despised an hour 
 before the ship struck, was now held in high estimation, 
 and looked up to even by the Captain. That gentle 
 man s name was Samuel Marsh, a man of respectability; 
 he was not on deck when Baggs was treated ill, and it 
 was said that the officers on deck, altered the ship s 
 course without his knowledge. 
 
 It was said that the ship s crew consisted of about 170, 
 besides five prisoners. I do not recollect exactly the 
 number which were lost; it was 1 think short of twenty. 
 Some I believe were so presumptuous as to attempt to 
 swim to shore and were lost. There was one woman on 
 board, she was the cook s wife, and was saved without 
 injury; a traveller being fixed on the great rope, she was 
 drawn on shore in haste. 
 
 Some of the ship s sails were got on shore, and a tent 
 erected for her accommodation. Her husband, one of 
 the surgeon s mates, and several others were left in this 
 place. This woman was delivered of a child in a day or 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE C7 
 
 two after, and in a few days they were all taken off by 
 some fishing shallops. 
 
 It was perhaps one or two o clock when we began to 
 ascend the mountain. In going up this mountain, I had 
 ascended a precipice fifteen or twenty feet, and had got 
 on eight or ten yards, where the ground was so steep 
 that 1 could not walk without holding on by the rope. 
 Some one having jerked the rope out of my hands, I fell 
 on my face, arid was sliding fast down, and had got with 
 in twice my length of the edge of the precipice; a sailor 
 who had just got up, clapped his foot upon me ; and held 
 me until I got hold of the rope again. Had I fallen off 
 these rocks, it would probably have killed me. 
 
 \Vhen I reached the summit of the mountain, I found 
 myself on the border of a spacious plain. Looking north 
 erly and westerly, a man might be seen a mile off. Not 
 a tree or shrub could be seen. In a southern direction 
 within a mile and a half, was a wilderness of evergreens. 
 The surface of the ground was covered with a long thick 
 moss, in which our feet would sink six inches at every 
 step. 
 
 In looking down on the ship, she did not appear big 
 ger than a long boat. We took up our march for the 
 wood, our company something like a hundred and fifty. 
 It was about sunset when we got to the woods. We 
 tried to make some fire but had poor luck; there was no 
 dry fuel to be had; the recent heavy rain had wet every 
 thing, and it was very difficult to make a fire of green 
 spruce and fir. We gathered boughs for our beds, for 
 although the moss was soft, it was very wet and cold. 
 We stowed pretty close together, and covered ourselves 
 with our blankets, yet we were very uncomfortable, for 
 our clothes had scarcely got dry, and it was a frosty 
 night. 
 
 In the morning, the Captain and other officers had 
 a long consultation with Mr. Baggs, respecting the route 
 we should pursue. We were something like a hundred 
 miles from Placentia, but I do not know what was the 
 distance to St. Johns. It was concluded to shape our 
 course for Placen ia. On the next morning, orders were 
 giren to have all the provisions collected together and 
 
68 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 each one, both officers and men, were to receive an 
 equal allowance. 
 
 It was thought necessary to remain where we were 
 that day, in order that Mr. Baggs might examine the 
 coast, for the purpose of settling some question in his 
 own mind. Mr. Baggs and several others set off and on 
 their return in the evening, brought the unpleasant in 
 telligence that the vessel which we had chased had gone 
 entirely to pieces, and it was presumed that every soul 
 was lost. On the morning following, we took up our 
 march and kept along in the woods, until past noon; we 
 then came upon the sea shore on the head of a bay 
 called by Mr. Baggs, Distress bay. He told us that for 
 the space of two or three leagues off, the water was not 
 more than two fathoms deep, and that this bay abounded 
 with rocks under water. 
 
 It was supposed that this vessel must have gone en 
 tirely to pieces, several miles from the shore. We sup 
 posed her to have been a brig, and we knew her to have 
 been an American built, for on the forehead of some of 
 her carved images, the letters U. S. A. were carved. 
 She might have been captured by the English, and in 
 their service. There was no doubt but that she had 
 been to the West Indies, for we found several hogsheads 
 of rum upon the shore, and some of them not much in 
 jured. The officers with tomahawks cut holes in those 
 casks, and poured all the rum out, lest the sailors should 
 be tempted to linger behind for the sake of the rum. 
 jVo man was allowed to drink a drop, nor did the officers 
 take any. The remains of this vessel were scattered 
 a mile or more on the shore. We picked up fourteen 
 men and a boy about twelve or fourteen years old. We 
 dragged them up on the bank, (for the shore here was 
 low,) and with staves dug a grave two or three feet 
 deep, and buried them as decently as in our circum 
 stances we could. 
 
 The only provision we found was a lump of butter; 
 it had been in a keg, but that was stove to pieces and the 
 tand was beat into the butter several inches. Thi* 
 part which was so damaged was scraped off, and the good 
 w took along with us. We spent several hours about 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 69 
 
 this wreck. The largest piece that we found was three 
 or four planks of her quarter deck, with two or three of 
 the timbers. We kept along the shore several miles; 
 found the travelling very bad. At length we were oblig 
 ed to take to the woods again in consequence of the bold 
 ness of the shore. 
 
 I have been accustomed to the wilderness in New 
 England, New-York, Pennsylvania and Ohio, but have 
 never seen any so difficult to get through as that of New 
 foundland. Three times a day Capt. Marsh would set 
 down with the bread bag between his legs, and deal out 
 to each man a small quantity of bread, and some other 1 
 officer would distribute a small quantity of meat; the 
 butter was also divided, which we found on the sea shore, 
 I should say that the whole amount of provisions a day, 
 to each man, did not exceed eight ounces. I think it 
 was on the eighth or ninth day, when we arrived at a 
 little port. Point Var. Some few of our company were 
 so exhausted, that they were left by the way, and wheth 
 er they were ever relieved, I am unable to say. 
 
 We were driven into store houses, and furnished with 
 a kind of tea, which they called Labrador tea; this was 
 well sweetened with molasses. This tea with ship bread 
 composed our supper, but before the officers with the 
 men of the place had got us housed, we h?d made free 
 with some of the fish from the beach; this however was 
 taken away as we entered the store house. I had the 
 good luck or the presumption to conceal a small one 
 under my jacket, and I found that others had done the 
 same. I reserved as much for myself as 1 dared to eat, 
 and distributed the remainder to others. They gave us 
 a plenty of tea. I took Wilds for my messmate, got un 
 der a large bench, arid we ate our supper with great cau 
 tion and comfort, being very careful to masticate our fish 
 thoroughly, and to eat and drink very slowly. We were, 
 probably an hour in eating our suppers, and we then had 
 a dry floor to repose on, and had a comfortable night s 
 rest. 
 
 The next day we had to walk four or five miles to 
 Placentia, and we who were prisoners were deposited 
 in our old station, the guard house. A Mr. SanderSj 
 
70 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 the principal merchant in Placentia, gave me and others 
 some clothes. Gov. Hawkins and lady were very friendly, 
 and the soldiers with whom we had contracted a friendly 
 acquaintance, congratulated us on our return, after hav 
 ing gone through such a scene of suffering in two short 
 weeks. We continued here about a month. Mr. Baggs 
 got his discharge, and the crew were sent in shallops to 
 St. Johns. 
 
 How incomprehensible and astonishing are the ways 
 of divine Providence ! If Mr. Baggs had not been in 
 our company, we should probably most or all of us have 
 perished in the wilderness. 
 
 At the expiration of about one month, the Fairy, 
 sloop of war, of eighteen guns, came into the harbor to 
 convoy a few merchantmen to tSt. Johns, which were 
 not ready to sail when the Duchess of Cumberland sail 
 ed. The merchantmen were bound to Lisbon, and were 
 short of hands. Mr. Loyd, Babb, and Annis, were put 
 on board them, and promised th?it they should be report 
 ed to the consul, and set at liberty in Lisbon, which was 
 a neutral port. Whether they ever found their way to 
 their native shores, I cannot say. Wilds and myself 
 were destined to serve his Majesty, on board the Fairy, 
 sloop of war, commanded by Capt. Yeo, a complete ty 
 rant. I began to fear that my fate was sealed to serve 
 his Britannic Majesty, on board a man of war, all my 
 days; a service which I had detested from my infancy. 
 Before I was six years old, I had heard my parents 
 speak of some of their friends who had been impressed 
 on board of men of war. I can perfectly remember 
 when Hollon took a chart of our coast and harbors. My 
 father at that time lived on Frost s point, near the mouth 
 of Portsmouth harbor, where we could see every vessel 
 that went out and in. Our sailors and fishermen used 
 to dread the sight of a man of war s boat, as a Hock of 
 sheep would dread the appearance of a wolf* I presume 
 that Gov. Hawkins was ignorant of Capt. Yeo s design. 
 Hawkins put us on board of the Fairy, to be conveyed 
 to St. Johns. Wilds and myself were called upon the 
 quarter deck, and after having been asked a few questions 
 by Capt. Yeo, he turned to his officers and said, "they are 
 Q. couple of fine lads for his Majesty s service. Mr. Gray, 
 
ANDREW SHERBURXE. 71 
 
 see that they do their duty, one in the foretop and the 
 other in the maintop." Wilds replied that he was afraid 
 to go up so high; thnt he was suhject to fits; he was afraid 
 he should fall down and kill himself. I replied, that I 
 was a prisoner of war, and that I could not consent to 
 serve against my country. With very hard words and 
 several threats, we were ordered off the quarter deck, 
 and commanded to do our duty in the waist. 
 
 Mr. Gray was the first lieutenant, and the tops were 
 much more honorable station? than the waist; but we wero 
 determined not to serve his Majesty in either station; we 
 therefore left the quarter deck in haste, and went imme 
 diately into the cable tier, which is the prisoners station ". 
 but we did not know, as yet, what fellows we had to deal 
 with. In a day or two, all hands were called; this is per 
 formed with a certain ceremony. The boatswain s mate 
 stands at the fore hatchway, and with a call, or pipe, blowa 
 a loud and along blast, and then halloos out " all hands, 
 ahoy." He performs the same ceremony at the main 
 hatchway, and at the after hatchway. It is only to blow 
 his whistle and say "hands ahoy." For myself, I did not 
 see any occasion for all hands being called at that time. 
 I have always thought that it was for no other purpose 
 than to ferret out these two poor little yankee lads. After 
 suitable time is given for the men to get on deck, the boat- 
 wain s mate goes down, and goes fore and aft between 
 decks, to see if there are any skulkers. On this occa 
 sion, having performed on deck the proper ceremony, he 
 came down below, blustering and swearing, (as is com 
 mon on those occasions,) and finding none indifferent to 
 the summons, except Wilds and myself, who were snug 
 in the cable tier, he began to rave at us like a bedlamite, 
 and hastening towards us, commanded us on deck. We 
 informed him that we were prisoners of war; that we were 
 American prisoners. "Tell me nothing about prisoners," 
 *aid he; "upon deck immediately." We still kept our 
 stations, and remonstrated: he uttered a number of most 
 horrid imprecations, and at the same time cornmcnce d a 
 furious attack upon us with his rattan. We for a while 
 sternly adhered to our purpose, while he alternately thresh 
 ed the one and the other; (we should have resisted, but 
 were afraid of the consequences.) He became more and 
 
72 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 more enraged, and determined to conquer; and we not 
 daring to resist, thought it best to clear out. We mount 
 ed the deck, but with no small degree of reluctance, with 
 him at our heels repeating his strokes. Having got on 
 deck, I saw but very little to do. The carpenter and 
 boatswain have each a birth, viz. a kind of small room by 
 themselves, forward of the fore hatchway. The carpen 
 ter, whose name was Fox, was sitting in his birth and 
 looking on while the boatswain s mate was whipping us. 
 The thought of serving his Majesty on board a man of 
 war was so painful to my feelings, that I directly left the 
 deck and again went below and sat down, and with a very 
 heavy heart was reflecting on my forlorn condition. I 
 could not endure the thougt of being deprived of liberty, 
 and spending my days on board an enemy s ship of war. 
 Mr. Fox was still sitting in his cabin, and I believe there 
 was no other person below at that time. The carpenter 
 called to me, and beckoned to me to come to his birth; 
 I went in and he kindly asked me to sit down, which I 
 did, and he addressed me as follows: "I see my lad, that 
 you are obliged to do duty." 
 
 Yes, Sir, said I, but very much against my inclination. 
 Said he, " it is wrong, but it would not do for me to 
 interfere; but I was thinking to do you a favor. His 
 Majesty allows me two boys, but I have not any; if you 
 will come into my birth and take a little care here, I will 
 excuse you from keeping watch and all other duty." I 
 hesitated, fearing to perform any voluntary service, lest 
 it should prove unfavorable to me. Mr. Fox noticing 
 that I was in suspense about the matter, said you need 
 not fear its being unfavorable to you; you will be much 
 less exposed if you stay with me, than you will be if you 
 have to do your duty before the mast, and it is in vain 
 for you to think to escape that, for Capt. Yeo is a very 
 arbitrary man; he is not liked by the crew, and his offi 
 cers do not set much by him. I intend to leave the 
 ship myself when we get home, but I wish you not to 
 mention these things, and you may be assured that I 
 will be your friend." He seemed so affectionate and 
 friendly that I put confidence in the man, nor was it 
 misplaced; he proved a faithful friend. The boatswain 
 and gunner, both messed with Mr. Fox; the boatswain had 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 73 
 
 & boy, whose name was William Ming, and the gunner 
 had a boy, whose name was Henry Hack, besides a 
 son, seven or eight years old; so that our service was 
 very light, for one smart boy would have been amply- 
 sufficient to have done all the work that there was to do 
 in the mess. Within a day or two after this, the ship 
 arrived at St. John s, where I soon ascertained that the 
 cartel had sailed several weeks before, and that there 
 were no prisoners on board the prison ship. This was ap 
 palling to my feelings: although I had little ground to 
 expect that the sailing of the cartel would have been de 
 layed until that time. We found, therefore, that we 
 were destined to see old England, if we should live, and 
 the ship should succeed in getting home. While lying 
 in St. John s, we had an opportunity of seeing some 
 of Capt. Yeo s character exhibited. It was contrary to 
 orders to bring any spirituous liquors on board; it was 
 the usage to hoist in the boat at night, lest any of the 
 men should elude the guard, steal the boat and run away. 
 One evening as the boat was hoisted in, there was a 
 bottle of rum discovered in the boat. No one of the 
 boat s crew would own the bottle; and the next morning 
 the whole, six in number, were seized up to the gangway, 
 with their shirts stripped off, and each received a dozen 
 lashes, with a cat-o -nine-tails, on his naked back. It 
 was very common for this captain to have his men thus 
 whipped for very trifling faults, and sometimes, when fault 
 less. At a certain time the cook gives out word to the 
 men, and officers waiters, that they may have hot water 
 to wash their dishes, &c. One day a midshipman s boy 
 called on the cook for hot water. The cook had none; 
 and reprimanded the lad for not coming in proper season. 
 The boy complained to his master; whose rank on board 
 is no higher than the cook s and who was himself but a 
 boy: the midshipman came forward and began to repri 
 mand the cook; who told him that had the boy come at 
 the proper time, he would have had hot water enough; 
 but that he should not now furnish him, or any one efse. 
 Thi* young blood made his complaint to the captain that 
 he was insulted by the cook, who was a man in years, 
 and who, for this affront, offered to a gentleman s son, 
 7 
 
MEMOIRS OF 
 
 be brought to the gangway, and take his dozen. I 
 believe that the laws of the navy do not admit of a war 
 rant officer s being punished, without he ia first tried and 
 condemned by a court martial. I understand that the 
 captain had violated the laws of the navy, in a number of 
 instances. He had a number of men in irons, on the 
 whole passage to England. He had a son who was a 
 midshipman on board, and I think it very probable that 
 he was the same who commanded on Lake Ontario, in 
 the late war with England. We had a short, but rather 
 a lough passage to England; and were several times cal 
 led to quarters; but it so happened, in kind Providence, 
 that neither Wilds or myself were stationed at any quar 
 ters. Whether we were overlooked, or whether it was 
 design in the officers, I am unable to say; at any rate, 
 we thought it a very fortunate circumstance on our part. 
 There was no fighting however on the passage. We arriv 
 ed at Plymouth, I should say about the last of November, 
 1781. It excited some peculiar sensations to lift up my eyes 
 and behold the land of my forefathers. I must confess I felt 
 a certain kind of reverence and solemnity, that I cannot 
 well describe. Yet when reflecting on my situation, and 
 bringing into view the haughtiness of her monarch and 
 government; their injustice and cruelty to her children; 
 I felt an indignant, if not a revengeful spirit towards them. 
 Several days passed away, and I saw no prospect of mv 
 release from the ship. The ship had not been a week 
 in port, before there came three fourths as many women, 
 as men, on board; and the number every day increasing. 
 This was the universal practice with the British navy: 
 it was not common for the men to be allowed to go on 
 shore, to stay over night. My worthy master proposed to 
 ltie , that in case I could not get released from the ship, to 
 adopt me as his son. He had a wife, I think, in Bristol, 
 but had no child: he said he did not intend long to fol 
 low the sea; he could, if he pleased, quit the sfr ip and 
 work in hie? Majesty s yard. I could not but express my 
 grateful sense of his kindness; but informed him that it 
 was my design to use every endeavor to get to America 
 again. He said ho did not blame me; and that if he could 
 see any opportunity in my favor, he would apprise me of 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. To 
 
 it. There was some prospect of Capt. Yeo s being re 
 moved from the command of the Ship: she was, however, 
 preparing for sea again. Th e men, and especially the 
 officers, lived high while the ship was in port. In our 
 mess we had a plenty of fresh beef, mutton, fowls, and 
 vegetables; which were very acceptable to me, after hav 
 ing been seven or eight months destitute of every kind of 
 vegetables and fresh provisions except fish. 
 
 We had been several week in port; the ship had ta 
 ken her beer on board, and was in a manner ready for sea 
 again. Capt. Yeo took his leave of the ship, without any 
 ceremony of respect being shown him Irom the crew. 
 Shortly after, the new Captain came on board, and was 
 saluted with three cheers from the crew. There was now 
 a mere possibility that my friend Wilds and myself, might 
 find favor in the sight of our new Captain. (1 very much 
 regret that I have forgotten his name. ) 
 
 la a day or two after he had come on board, Mr. Fox 
 came into his cabin, where I was, and said to me: "Sher- 
 burne, the Captain is walking alone, on the quarter deck, 
 I think it is a good time for you to go and speak to him; 
 it may be, that he will consider you as a prisoner of war." 
 I trembled for fear we should be unsuccessful, and this 
 was our last chance, and if we should fail in this, our fate 
 would be sealed, unless Mr. Fox could get discharged 
 from the ship, and take me with him; and even in that 
 case, I must be a British subject. This idea was by no 
 means grateful to my feelings. There was no time, how 
 ever, to lose, I went and informed Wilds of my plan, and 
 requested him to accompany me, he readily consented; 
 (we had talked on the subject before;) and we walked aft, 
 went up the lee gangway and crossed over to the weath 
 er side of the quarter deck, with our hats under our arms, 
 and met the Captain as he was walking forward. He 
 appeared very willing to give us a hearing. "\\ hat is 
 your wish, nay lads?" said he; I replied, "we are Ameri 
 can prisoners, Sir, we were taken on the coast of New 
 foundland, and imprisoned all the last summer in Placen- 
 tia, and in September we were put on board his Majesty s 
 ship., the Duchess of Cumberland, to go to St. John s, 
 expecting to have been sent from thence, to Boston, and 
 
76 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 have been exchanged; but the Duchess of Cumberland 
 was lost on Cape St. Mary s, soon after she sailed. We 
 were taken to Placentia again, and there put on board 
 this ship; it is our wish, Sir, to be considered prisoners 
 of war, and to go to prison." Said he, "you may go for 
 ward, my lads, and I will inquire into your cause." We 
 bowed and retired. Mr. Fox anxiously waited our return. 
 
 In about half an hour, word was given out from the 
 Captain, for Sherburne and Wilds to get ready to go into 
 the boat; and at the same time, the jolly boat boys were 
 called to man the boat. We felt almost ready to leap 
 for joy, that we were likely to have the honor and privi 
 lege of going to prison. I saw the tears stand in Mr. 
 Fox s eye, and I am certain that they ran down my 
 cheeks freely; he gave me some shirts and stockings, and 
 his best wishes. So we parted. 
 
 Wilds and Sherburne were ordered to goon board the 
 boat; in this business there must be a little ceremony. 
 A midshipman must accompany us, sword in hand, also 
 a sergeant, and several marines with fixed bayonets; thus 
 prepared, we left the Fairy in Plymouth sound, and 
 shaped our course for Hamoaze, near Plymouth dock, 
 where lay the Dunkirk seventy-four, the harbor Admi 
 ral s ship. All the prisoners who were brought into 
 port, are put on board this ship, which is properly a guard 
 ship. All the men who are impressed in and about this 
 port, are also put on board this ship. All his Majesty s 
 ships when they come into port, report to the Admiral, 
 and he reports to the board of admiralty; he also re 
 ceives and gives all orders to his Majesty s ships. 
 
 When a crew of prisoners is brought on board this ship, 
 a list of their names is deposited in the Admiral s clerk s 
 office, which is kept under the poop, on the quarter deck. 
 
 I cannot now say with whom the phrase originated , 
 which denominated a British man of war, a a floating 
 hell." If such a name is applicable to the ships of the 
 British navy generally, I think it was as applicable to 
 the Dunkirk, as to any other. 
 
 I had been on board but a few minutes, before I fell 
 in with an old ship-mate; he was an English lad, a little 
 older than myself. His name was William Lamb. He 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE 77 
 
 was captured by the Ranger, on the first cruise I sailed 
 in her, William Lamb put himself an apprentice to 
 Klijah Hall, Esq. who was first Lieut, of the Ranger. ^ 
 This gentleman had one or two other apprentices on 
 board that ship; he was as universally beloved and re 
 spected by the crew, as any officer with whom I was ever 
 acquainted. William fell into the hands of the British 
 a^ain, was recognized as a British subject, and put on 
 board a man of war; he abhorred the service and desert 
 ed; he was impressed, and put on board another; de 
 serted from her also, and was now impressed again. 
 This information he gave me in a whisper, requesting 
 rne, for God s sake, not to call him by name, he having 
 assumed one. 
 
 I was grieved for the poor young man, he was very 
 agreeable and much respected. I knew, that if he 
 should be detected in all this, he would in all probability 
 be hung at the yard arm. 
 
 There were no American prisoners on board the 
 Dunkirk, when we went on board, but in a few days a 
 dozen or fifteen were brought on board, and shortly af 
 ter, a few more; and there would scarcely a night pass, 
 in which there were not more or less brought on 
 board by the press gangs, as they are called. This ship 
 would sometimes have out five or six gangs at the same 
 time. These gangs consisted generally of a petty offi 
 cer, and six, eight, or ten, unprincipled sturdy fellows ; 
 they generally have the greatest success at the houses 
 of ill fame, where most of the sailors resort, when on 
 shore. They sometimes, however,] have a hard time, 
 and are overpowered, and get a severe drubbing, nor is 
 it uncommon for those who are impressed, to be brought 
 on board shockingly bruised and mangled. 
 
 When a ship comes into port, and is in want of hands, 
 she gets a supply from the Admiral s ship. The prison 
 ers who were first brought on board, were in a day or 
 two, called for and sent ashore, to pass an examination 
 before the Judges of the Admiralty, and be committed 
 to Old Mill prison. I felt surprised that those prisoners 
 who came on board subsequent to us, should precede us 
 in going to prison. The day after, aaother company 
 
78 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 were called and sent ashore. We began to feel alarmed,, 
 for we had understood that prisoners were sent ashore in 
 rotation, as they came on board. We began seriously 
 to fear that there was some evil design against us. At 
 length we put on fortitude sufficient to go to the office 
 and inquire why we were not sent ashore in our turn. 
 The clerk inquired what vessel s crew we were of, and 
 what our names were; we informed him, but he knew 
 nothing about us. Our very souls began to sink; we 
 had seen enough of a British man of war to satisfy us, 
 that it would be worse than useless for us, in our situa 
 tion to talk about " sailors rights." 
 
 We began to fear that we should be turned off to the 
 first of his Majesty s ships which might want hands, 
 for there was no distinction there between im 
 pressed men, and prisoners. It was only a tem 
 porary station for either. We made bold to go to the 
 office again, and oh ! how appalling to find that we were 
 not known as prisoners. One circumstance, however, 
 seemed to inspire us with a faint hope. The clerk was 
 a man, yes, he was a gentleman; he patiently heard all 
 we had to say, and promised to make diligent seach for 
 our names. 
 
 By this time, we had lost every article of clothing, ex 
 cept what we had upon our backs; every thing else had 
 been stolen. I suppose that it might with as much pro 
 priety be said of our ship s company, that we were the 
 offscouring of the earth, as of almost any other company 
 in existence. The ship being near the shore, and there 
 being sp much passing and repassing from the ship to the 
 shore, it was almost impossible to prevent their having 
 spirits on board. There was, therefore, drinking, gam 
 ing, swearing, fighting, stealing, scolding, brawling, &.c. 
 &c. going on almost continually, and especially in the 
 night. But I will desist from any further description of 
 this degraded and wretched company. 
 
 Wilds and myself were now the only prisoners on 
 board, and we made application the third time to the 
 clerk, who appeared to sympathize with us; he presum 
 ed that as there were but two of us, that the paper on 
 which our names were, was so small that it must have 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 79 
 
 been lost. There were eleven more prisoners brought 
 on board, and when the time came to send the prison 
 ers ashore, we were greatly rejoiced to h^ar our names 
 first called. 
 
 Whether our list had been mislaid and had now come 
 to light, or whether the clerk sent onboard the Fairy for 
 a new one, or whether he made us out a new one, I nev 
 er inquired. 
 
 There were thirteen prisoners ordered on board the 
 boat and were landed at what is called Plymouth Dock, 
 said to be the best dock in England. I had the oppor 
 tunity of seeing the Royal George laying in dock, at 
 that time the largest ship in the British navy. We were 
 escorted from the wharf to the court of Admiralty, by a 
 guard of soldiers, and conducted into a room by our 
 selves. And here we waited some time in awful suspense; 
 we had one more trying scene to endure. The judges 
 in their examinations were careful to select all English 
 men and Irishmen for his Majesty s service; and it was 
 sometimes the case then, as well as in after times, to 
 challenge Americans, and to insist that they were Brit 
 ish subjects, and send them on board one of his Majes 
 ty s ships of war. 
 
 We had now to pass an examination individually and 
 separately. 
 
 I being the first on the list, was first called in be 
 fore the judges. They were elderly gentlemen, and all 
 wore large white wigs; there were several other persons 
 present. My examination follows as nearly as I ean 
 recollect. 
 
 " Is your name Andrew Sherburne ?" 
 
 " It is, Sir." 
 
 " Where were you born?" 
 
 " In Portsmouth, in the state of New-Hampshire, in 
 North America." 
 
 "What is your age?" 
 
 " I was sixteen on the last day of September, Sir." 
 
 " What is your father s name?" 
 
 << He is dead, his name was Andrew Sherburne." 
 
 (( What was his occupation?" 
 
 ** A carpenter." 
 
80 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 " What vessel did you sail in? 1 
 
 "The privateer schooner Greyhound. 7 
 
 " How many guns did she mount?" 
 
 " Eight four pounders." 
 
 " Who commanded her?" 
 
 "Capt. Jacob Wilds." 
 
 " Where did she belong?" 
 
 " To Salem, in Massachusetts." 
 
 "When did she leave Salem?" 
 
 "Some time in the month of April last." 
 
 "What were you taken in?" 
 
 "I was taken in a Newfoundland shallop, a prize to 
 the Greyhound." 
 
 "By what were you taken?" 
 
 "A small armed schooner from Fortune bay, in New 
 foundland." 
 
 "Where were you taken to?" 
 
 "We were first taken to a place called Grand bank, in 
 Fortune bay, and from there we were sent to Placentia, 
 and imprisoned in the garrison until September. I was 
 then put on board his Majesty s ship, the Duchess of 
 Cumberland, bound to St. John s, and she having been 
 lost on Cape St. Mary s, I returned with part of the crew 
 to Placentia, where I was put on board his Majesty s ship 
 the Fairy, and brought to this port." 
 
 "How many are there of you?" 
 
 "Only two, Sir; there were three men of our erew put 
 on board of merchantmen, at Placentia." 
 
 I was then conducted back again to the rest of my 
 shipmates, and Wilds called in, and had nearly the same 
 questions asked him. I do not now recollect whether 
 the remaining eleven all belonged to one crew or not; 
 they were however examined separately, if my memory 
 serves me. 
 
 After all had been examined, I was called in before 
 the judges a second time, and most of the questions were 
 asked me again. 
 
 This circumstance very much alarmed me: one of the 
 judges asked a gentleman who was sitting in another part 
 of the room, whether my statements agreed with what I 
 had before said; who answered in the affirmative. 
 
ANDREW SHERBURXE. 81 
 
 I recollected to have heard a pen going while I was 
 answering their questions, but little thought at that time 
 that they were writing down my answers. I felt fearful 
 that they were laying a snare for me. However, it proved 
 more favorable than I expected. The other twelve were 
 then called in and their honors were prepared to pro 
 nounce an awful sentence. 
 
 We were severally and individually committed to Old 
 Mill prison, for rebellion, piracy, and high treason on his 
 Britannic Majesty s high seas, there to lay during his 
 Majesty s pleasure, until he saw fit to pardon or other 
 wise dispose of us. , . 
 
 This i believe is about the substance of their honors 
 address to us, as near as I could recollect. We were 
 then conducted to the door, that opened into the street, 
 and found a guard of soldiers waiting to receive us and 
 conduct us to the prison. I was then pressing the soil 
 of Old England, in a walk of about a mile and a half. 
 I had not walked so much on the land before since my 
 tedious march through the dreary wilderness of New 
 foundland. I felt a high degree of animation that my 
 prospects were so flattering. It was indeed a peculiar 
 gratification to think of entering Old Mill prison. At 
 length we came to the outer gate, which groaning on its 
 hinges, opened to receive us into the outer yard. 
 
 The commissary s office and the cook room made two 
 sides of this yard, and it was separated from the large 
 prison yard, by a strong wooden grate. In this yard a 
 sentinel stood continually ; and "old Aunt Anna" was 
 here constantly, with her hand cart, (drawn by a boy,) 
 to supply the prisoners with bread, butter, tobacco, 
 needles, thread and every other article for which they 
 might call. Several milk men had their station here oc 
 casionally. Before the inner gate was opened, we heard 
 the outcry from within, "more prisoners! more prisoners!" 
 The inner gate was opened, being well guarded with sol 
 diers with fixed bayonets. Without further ceremony 
 we were urged forward into the great yard, and saw 
 the prisoners rushing towards the gate I rom all direc 
 tions, to see if any of their acquaintance were to be 
 found amongst the new comers. 
 
82 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Enter Mill Prison Friendship of townsmen Goes to 
 School in Prison Manners and Customs Prisoners 
 escape The Guards deceived Sent to the Hospital 
 Ben Hunt Mr. Lawrence Discharged from Hos~ 
 pital Returns to Prison Jack Briard Sent on 
 board Cartel Long passage Arrives at Marblehead 
 Travels home a beggar. 
 
 I HAD not time to look about myself in my new, and so 
 much uesired quarters, before I was accosted by one and 
 another, (seizing me by the hand,) " how fare ye ship 
 mates, where are you from?" I hailed, from Piscatr.qua; 
 (that is the name of the river dividing Maine from New 
 Hampshire; Portsmouth laying on the west, and Kittery 
 on the east side. The Piscataqua men were called and 
 drew off towards the centre of the yard, and formed a 
 circle round me; I being the only one who came from 
 that river. No one who was not from that river presum 
 ed to intrude. I very soon ascertained that a number of 
 my townsmen had left Portsmouth several months sub 
 sequent to my leaving it; consequently I had nothing to 
 tell them from home. 
 
 From Portsmouth I found Capt. John Seward, An 
 drew Tombs, Daniel Huntress, Badger, Michael Hook 
 er, R. S. Tibbits and Nathaniel Kennerd. 
 
 From Kittery, Capt. Mark Firnald, Capt. James 
 Brown, Thomas .Brown, B. Dum, Aaron Goodwin, .Enoch 
 Clerk, Edmund Fornald, Benjamin Moore, James Hoo 
 per and Richard Perry, and probably some others whose 
 names I have forgotten. Most of those persons were 
 afterwards masters of vessels. Mr. Tibbits, of whom I 
 shall have occasion to speak hereafter, was the only 
 person amongst them with whom I had had any ac 
 quaintance, though the most of the Portsmouth people 
 had known my father. It was now near night; I had 
 eaten nothing since the morning, and had now got to a 
 hungry place. Daniel, who was afterwards Capt. Hun- 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 83 
 
 tress, brought me a penny roll and a halfpenny worth of 
 butter, which was very acceptable. 
 
 It was now January, and I had not a single article of 
 clothing except what I had upon my back. I had a suf 
 ficient number of contemptible animals about me, which 
 I had unavoidably brought from the Dunkirk. If I do 
 not mistake, his Majesty provided hammocks and a blan 
 ket or two for the prisoners. The next day my towns 
 men gave me some old shirts and stockings, and advised 
 me to dislodge my domestic enemies if possible. There 
 was a pump in the yard, and a trough to wash our clothes 
 in; nor was there much danger of their being stolen 
 while drying; for the prisoners, notwithstanding they 
 were located within the absolute dominions of his Brit 
 annic Majesty, adventured to form themselves into a re 
 public, framed a constitution and enacted wholesome 
 laws, with suitable penalties. My friends held a consul 
 tation amongst themselves respecting me. Some one 
 spoke after this manner: " It will be a pity if this young 
 countryman of ours should spend his time while here 
 as many of the boys do, at gaming; he is fatherless, and 
 has no education; perhaps he might be prevailed with, 
 to go to school." " If he will," said one, " I will give 
 him some paper;" said another, " I will give him some 
 quills and ink." Said R, S. Tibbits, who was after 
 wards Capt. Tibbits, "I will undertake to instruct him." 
 They appointed a committee to confer with me upon the 
 subject; this committee communicated to me the sub 
 stance of their consultation, and advised me to comply 
 with their wishes. I could not but feel a grateful sense 
 of their benevolence, and although I was fond of cards, 
 &c. I promised to deny myself, altogether, and adhere 
 to their advice. 
 
 I had never had six months schooling in my life, nor 
 had even one month s schooling after I was seven year* 
 old. I could, however, make out to read a chapter tol 
 erably well in the New-Testament. Roderick Random,, 
 and several other novels had fallen into my hands; I was 
 pleased wiih their contents, and they improved my read 
 ing considerably. But I could not write my name. I 
 do not know that I had e-ver written a line in my life. 
 
84 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 nor could I enumerate three figures. I commenced 
 writing with Mr. Tibbits, and made rapid progress; my 
 mind was entirely taken up with the business, and my 
 friends were much gratified with my improvement, and 
 even if their encomiums excited my vanity, they also 
 prompted to unwearied application, and persevering im 
 provement. I very soon became entirely indifferent to 
 all kinds of gaming, and found sufficient amusement with 
 my pen and pencil; and even when nature required 
 some relaxation from my studies, it was more agreeable 
 to me" to walk alone in the yard, than to join in any kind 
 of play. Although more than forty -eight years have 
 gone by since my confinement commenced in that prison, 
 I shall here, so far as my memory shall aid me, give a 
 description of the place, together with some of the max 
 ims, customs, and employments, &c. of the prisoners. 
 
 This prison was situated on a promontory, projecting 
 into the sound, between Plymouth and Plymouth Dock, 
 two considerable towns; it lies on the right hand, as 
 you go from Dock to Plymouth, and about an equal dis 1 
 tance from either. Formerly there stood wind mills on 
 this eminence, which circumstance gave it the name of 
 " Mill Hill;" hence the prison was called " Mill Prison." 
 There were three buildings, one of which had been built 
 in queen Ann s time, as tradition informs us. The lar 
 gest building was a hundred feet long and about twenty 
 feet wide; situated at the north end of the yard. It was 
 two stories high, built with stone and lime, having no 
 windows on the north front. There was a space of about 
 twenty feet between this building and the commissary s 
 office, which stood to the west, but had no windows in 
 the east end. A wall on the north as high as the eaves 
 of the prison, extended from the prison to the office; a 
 sinrilar wall on the south, joined the two buildings. Im 
 this wall was a gate leading into the main yard. 
 
 It will hereafter appear why I am so particular in de 
 scribing this little yard. I have already spoken of a 
 small necessary yard in front of the commissary s office; 
 south of this yard was the cook room on the ground floor. 
 In the north end of one of the other buildings, which 
 stood in a line, making the west side of the yard A 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 85 
 
 space between the prisons answered as a yard for both. 
 On the south of our common yard was a stone wall, four 
 teen feet high, with broken glass bottles set in lime mor 
 tar on the top, to prevent climbing over. There was 
 a similar wall on the east; altogether enclosing something 
 like half an acre. In this yard was set a lamp post, and 
 near the cook room was a pump of good water. 
 
 By day I think there were but one or two sentinels in 
 the yard, but by night 1 believe there were at least four, 
 and as large a number without the walls; together with 
 four in the long prison, two above and two below, with 
 a proportionable number in the other prisons. I think 
 the whole number of American prisoners was between 
 eight and ten hundred. Our south wall divided between 
 us and the French prison yard. The hospital, consisting 
 of thirteen wards, as I understood, and the guard house, 
 were situated south-west of our yard, at a convenient 
 distance. There was no way of communication between 
 them except by the great gate. 
 
 There had been no release, or exchange of prisoners 
 from this place for many months. At different times, 
 numbers had deserted and some had shipped on board 
 his Majesty s ships, and thereby were absolved from the 
 heinous crime of c rebellion, piracy, &c. 
 
 At an early period it was found necessary to have 
 some mode of government among the prisoners. I be 
 lieve I have heard their articles read; but I do not now 
 recollect the particulars. However, if any person was 
 found guilty of any transgression, he had a legal trial 
 and was punished according to the crime. There had 
 been one or more instances of tying up to the lamp post, 
 and putting a dozen lashes on the bare back. 
 
 The provision while I was there, was in general, pret 
 ty good, but we had not half enough of it. I think we 
 were allowed twelve ounces of bread, and twelve ounces 
 of beef, per day. We were divided into messes, four in 
 a mess. At eleven o clock, we drew a three pound 
 loaf to each mess. The bread was very dark colored, / 
 and was supposed to have been composed of rye, oats, 
 barley, and peas; the members of each mess would gen 
 erally convene when the bread was served out. One 
 8 
 
8G MEMOIRS OF 
 
 person would divide the loaf into quarters, as exactly as 
 he could; then one of the mess would turn his back, 
 and another, in the presence of the rest, touch a piece 
 of the bread, saying to him who had turned his back, 
 who shall have that? John, 7 who shall have that? my 
 self, and who shall have that? you shall have it; of 
 course, the fourth quarter must, fall to the one not named. 
 There had in time past, been some serious difficulties 
 about the division of the beef. The beef is weighed out 
 to the cook in the gross, and an allowance made for the 
 turn of the scale to each mess; it is, therefore, divided 
 into as many lots as there are messes; as equally as pos 
 sible. The messes in rotation, send one of their num 
 ber into the cook room every day. The mess which 
 sends the man, is called the blind mess. This man su 
 perintends the division of the beef, w : hich is stuck on the 
 long iron skewers while raw. This Hind mess has its 
 part by w r eight, without bone, and a sufficient quantity of 
 fat out of the common stock to fry it in. The blind mess 
 generally calculated to have a feast on this day, some 
 thing like a yankee thanksgiving. There is no door 
 from the yard into the cook s room, but there is a small 
 window r , through which the bowls of soup are passed. 
 The beef is brought round through the commissary s 
 yard and set under a shed by the cook s room window. 
 While the man of the blind mess, who superintended 
 the cookery is cooking his portion for himself and mess 
 mates, another man of the same mess is blindfolded, 
 and kneels down over the tub of meat, and one of the 
 cooks, who is not a prisoner, begins to call the numbers 
 of the messes in order. These numbers are one day 
 called forwards, and the next day backwards. When 
 the cook calls a mess by their number, the blind man, 
 with his fore finger, touches a lot of the meat, and, not 
 withstanding all their punctiliousness, some lots will be 
 worth as much again as others. Those who get a very 
 door lot, generally stand by until all the messes are 
 called, and if any small pieces are left in the tub, it is ju 
 diciously divided amongst those whose lots were defic 
 ient. While they are serving the meat, another of the 
 cooks is passing out the bowls of broth; the bowls are 
 
tj 
 
 ANDREW SHERBURNEJ^ 87 
 
 all numbered on the rim. In eachVjjowJ is about two 
 
 quarts of broth. ^^T4 T T!?(\TV* 
 
 One of each mess attends to get the meat, and anothefr 
 to get the soup. They form t\vo ranks from the cook s 
 room window, and pass the bowls along from one to 
 another, and when a man sees his own, he takes it, steps 
 backward and carries it to the mess station where the 
 meat is also brought and divided. 
 
 Some of the people would eat all their allowance as 
 fast as it came to hand, others made two parts of it, and 
 some would divide it into three parts. 
 
 The bread was universally called Brown George. 
 This was a compliment paid to his Majesty. I used 
 generally to eat a small quantity of bread with my soup, 
 and divide my meat and the remainder of my bread in 
 two equal parts, lor my supper and breakfast; this was 
 scanty living; when in health our appetites were pretty 
 teen. 
 
 Mr. John Wentworth, the last Governor of New Hamp 
 shire under his Majesty, was at that time in England, 
 and some of the Portsmouth people borrowed small 
 sums of money of him and were to refund the money to 
 the Governor s mother who lived in Portsmouth. 
 
 Some of the Kittery people had sailed in privateers 
 from France, and had some money with them when they 
 were taken. There were individuals who would furnish 
 themselves with a kettle, a few pounds of coffee, and a 
 small quantity of fuel, (bones were carefully collected 
 for fuel,) and mflke coffee and sell for half a penny a pint, 
 and if they could realize the gain of three or four pence, 
 or even but one penny a day, it was an inducement to 
 continue the business. 
 
 Mr. Bodge, of Portsmouth, was an artist in making 
 punch ladles, of appletree wood. 1 believe he made some 
 which were sold for nearly a half a guinea; wooden 
 spoons, busks, and knitting sheaths, were very curious 
 ly wrought. Capt. James Brown, of Kittery, taught 
 navigation, and employed his leisure hours in manufac 
 turing nets for drying glue. 
 
 Ship building was the most extensive business which 
 was carried on. I have no doubt there are ships now ia 
 England, which were built in Mill Prison. An old Mr. 
 
88 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 Hudson was indefatigable in building sloops and schoon 
 ers; and would generally have some on hand; he gen 
 erally supplied the boys, whose curiosity led them to 
 take a peep at the yankees. The old gentleman would 
 sell them from a penny to two or three shillings. There 
 were sloops of war, frigates, two deckers, and even three 
 deckers built or manufactured there. A Mr. John 
 Deadman of Salem, a brother of William, (whom I before 
 mentioned) exceeded all others in this business; he built 
 one which was not more than a foot in length, which I 
 think he sold for four guineas; he built a three decker 
 and rigged her completely, which, (if I do riot mistake,) 
 he sold for twenty guineas. She was between three 
 and four feet in length; she showed three tier of guns, 
 had her anchors on her bows, and her cable bent; by 
 pulling gently on one cable, the parts on one deck would 
 all fly open, by pulling on another, the guns would all 
 run out of the ports: the same process would have the 
 same effect on the other decks. My impression is, that 
 he was twenty two months in building her. There was 
 nothing left undone, to obtain a little money, in order to 
 augment our small stock of provisions. 
 
 Dr. Franklin was at that time our minister at the 
 court of France: he took a deep interest in the concerns 
 of the prisoners in England: previously to my going into 
 that prison, he furnished each prisoner with a shilling 
 sterling a week. It was so very difficult for the Doctor 
 to obtain funds, that this donation would discontinue for 
 weeks and sometimes for months. After I had been 
 there a month or two, this donation was received, and I 
 found that one shilling per week added much to our com 
 fort; it served to supply us with a tolerable comfortable 
 meal each day. 
 
 Various arts were employed to obtain the news. A 
 newspaper would sometimes be obtained in a loaf of 
 bread; I believe that news of the capture of Cornwallis 
 was obtained in this way, not long before I entered the 
 prison. The prisoners were not a little animated on this 
 occasion. I was informed that a considerable number 
 furnished themselves with the American ensign, painted 
 on half a sheet of paper, having the English ensign also 
 painted below the Union, and sticking this half sheet in- 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 89 
 
 to their hat bands, paraded the yard, huzzaing in such 
 a manner as to alarm the commissary; his name was 
 Gowdray, He was a petulant old fellow, and the pris 
 oners, and especially the Marblehead men, took pleasure 
 in affronting him. On this occasion the whole guard 
 came into the yard, and some of the prisoners had the 
 hardihood to insult the guard, and dare them to fire upon 
 them; but, by the interposition of some of the American 
 officers, the tumult subsided without any mischief. 
 
 Every evening before the sun went down, the officers 
 who were on guard, came into the yard with a number 
 of soldiers, and gave orders for every man to go into the 
 prison. An officer stands at each door, and counts the 
 men as they walk leisurely into the prison, the doors are 
 then locked. In the morning they are counted out 
 again. One evening while I was there, a prisoner in 
 the upper story had been picking a bone, and threw it out 
 of the window through the grates; it fell on the sentinel s 
 head. He immediately walked up to the lower window, 
 directly under that from which the bone fell, clapped his 
 gun into the window and fired up through the floor; the 
 ball went through a hammock in which a man was lying, 
 but no one was injured. The report of the musket imme 
 diately alarmed the guurd, who came mustering into the 
 yard; the prisoners were much enraged, and swore they 
 would kill that soldier if he was ever placed as sentinel 
 in the yard again. There was one regiment occasion 
 ally on guard, against which the prisoners were very 
 much prejudiced. 1 do not now recollect the number 
 of the regiment. 
 
 There were about a dozen prisoners made their escape 
 one night while I was there. 
 
 They effected it in the following manner. They by 
 some means, got one of the grates out of the chamber 
 window which was directly over the west end door of the 
 Jong prison; they took a loose beam and ran it out of the 
 window in an oblique direction, so as just to make it reach 
 over the north wall of the necessary yard; they lashed 
 hammocks together, suspended them from the end of the 
 beam, and lowered themselves down; and I believe they 
 all made their escape. I do not recollect that any of 
 8* 
 
90 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 them were brought back again as was frequently the 
 case. When deserters were delected and brought back, 
 they were doomed to suffer a certain number of days in 
 the dark hole, so called; they were liable also to be im 
 pressed and put on board a man of war. The beam was 
 taken and carefully replaced, and the grate was also re 
 placed in the window. In this window the grates ran 
 up and down, there were no cross grates to it. 
 
 It was an object with the prisoners, when any mischief 
 had taken place, to conceal it until the before mentioned 
 regiment mounted guard. They must, therefore, have 
 recourse to the stratagem which they had before invent 
 ed, and practised on such occasions. 
 
 It will be recollected, that I have before mentioned 
 a gate which opened out of the necessary yard into the 
 main yard. In this gate there was a hole about four feet 
 from the ground; (I have understood that this hole was 
 designed to pass cans of water through;) it was not suffi 
 ciently large, however, for a man to get through, unless 
 he was very small. When the morning came, it was 
 necessary that the officers should number as many per 
 sons out, as they had numbered in the evening before; 
 there must, therefore, be some management on the part 
 of the prisoners to conceal the fraud. There were a 
 number of boys in this prison, as well as in the other pris 
 ons, and depend ance must be placed on those lads to 
 make up the number; they must, therefore, be got out 
 as soon as practicable. A group of the prisoners who 
 are first out, station themselves about this gate; they take 
 up a lad and crowd him through the hole in the gate; there 
 are suitable persons within to receive him, he goes in at the 
 end door, and presents himself to the officer at the fore 
 door, and is numbered a second time. Shortly after, 
 a second lad is crowded through the hole, and sometimes 
 the same lad has to pass through the hole the second and 
 third time, for want of a sufficient number who are suit 
 ably small: in this case he will probably wear a cap, in 
 stead of his hat, or he may go out the first time bare 
 headed. They may sometimes borrow a boy or two, 
 who, by another officer has been numbered out of some 
 other prison. Sometimes the poor fellows have a hard 
 
ANDREW 3HERBURNJ2 91 
 
 time in getting through the hole, and will squall a little; 
 but the shouting and laughter of the prisoners in every 
 direction, in the prison and out, prevent the boys being 
 heard by the officer. 
 
 This trick, (and I presume it might pass for a "Yankee 
 trick,") must be played over and over again, until our 
 friends shall have had opportunity to escape or conceal 
 themselves, and the hated regiment should come on guard. 
 It was to me a matter of surprise how those men should 
 get away and I have no knowledge of it, though I lay at 
 the time within ten yards of the window. It was yet 
 more astonishing that they should elude the notice of the 
 sentinel. 
 
 At length the regiment before mentioned came on 
 guard, (I do not suppose that the whole regiment moun 
 ted guard at once,) and there was no more squeezing 
 the boys through the hole in the gate. There being 
 twelve or thirteen missing, the prisoners must all be 
 numbered again and again, and when it was fully ascer 
 tained that there were so many missing, "There was no 
 small stir among the soldiers." 
 
 Colonel Laurens, of Charleston, S. C. had been ap 
 pointed by Congress our minister to Holland; but on his 
 way, was captured by the British, and as a rebel, impris 
 oned in the Tower at London. After his Majesty had 
 received the news of the surrender of Lord Cornwallis, 
 the Colonel was released from the Tower upon a parole 
 of honor, and visited Mill Prison. The prisoners consid 
 ered this visit as a high compliment, and treated him with 
 every mark of respect; indeed, the gravity and dignity 
 of his appearance commanded respect. 
 
 I diligently pursued my studies of arithmetic and ge 
 ometry, with a design to enter upon navigation; but when 
 the spring came on, it was very sickly among us; sever 
 al of my townsmen were quite unwell, and needed my 
 assistance. They had been so very kind to me, that I 
 cheerfully devoted myself to their service. 
 
 From this circumstance, I suspended my studies, ex 
 pecting to commence them in a few days; but it proved 
 far otherwise. A material change was taking place 
 amongst the prisoners; many were drooping here and 
 
92 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 there, and numbers were daily sent off to the hospital. 
 My little services were daily more and more needed. 
 At length I became quite indisposed myself, but did not 
 complain: the next day I was more unwell yet, but con 
 tinued to attend on my messmates. On the third morn 
 ing I rose up in my hammock, feeling very unwell, but 
 determined not to be confined; my head ached violently, 
 I thought I would lie down a few minutes, and then get 
 up and attend on my sick friends. I rose up again, but 
 my sight left me; I was soon surronded by my neighbors, 
 and 1 now recollect having heard some of them say, 
 "Sherburne is out of his head," I attempted to get out 
 of my hammock, but was prevented by my friends, James 
 Hooper, and Benjamin Moor. I bled at the nose, and 
 my mind was unsettled. The physicians, at this time, 
 visited the prison every day, (though at other times, 
 they did not visit the prison once in severed weeks,) one 
 of them called to look at me, and ordered me immediate 
 ly to the hospital, I recollect that I was led to the hos 
 pital by two men, that I was extremely distressed while 
 vomiting, and while I was undressed. From that time, 
 I was almost entirely deranged for several weeks. 1 do 
 not recollect, that I was ver informed what my disease 
 was denominated by the physicians ; at any rate, they, 
 for a while, despaired of my recovery. 
 
 In the course of my confinement, I had short lucid in 
 tervals: and realized extreme depression, both of body 
 and of mind. I was fearful I should not recover, and 
 was filled with horror. I had a deep sense of my respon 
 sibility to my Creator. I brought to view my previous 
 sickness, dangers, deliverances, and my solemn promi 
 ses to God, that I would reform. My own conscience 
 weighed me in the ballance, and I was "found want 
 ing" I endeavored to send up my cry to God for mercy, 
 but O! wretched, wretched was my state; I feared an 
 awful hell! After a few minutes pensive reflection, my 
 mind would relapse again, and I would find myself all 
 in darkness and confusion. On the return of my rea 
 son again I had some recollection of the whimsical no 
 tions that were upon my mind while I was deranged. 
 I lay in the sick ward, in which there were, perhaps. 
 
ANDREW SHEREURNE, 93 
 
 twelve or fifteen others, who were very sick, but none 
 of them deranged, to my knowledge. 
 
 Our beds were about three or four feet apart, in two 
 tiers, their heads to the wall on each side, and a space 
 of six or eight feet, between their feet. The floor was 
 a brick pavement. One night in my phrenzy, I imagined 
 I was shipwrecked on Cape Ann, and exerting all my 
 strength to get on shore, and frequently succeeded so far 
 as to get my body half on shore, but the strength of the 
 waves while receding, would drag me off again, and af 
 ter very hard struggling with the waves, I would regain 
 the shore again, and would so far succeed as to inspire a 
 confidence that I should escape: but alas! I was drawn 
 off again and again. 
 
 Without doubt 1 was as much distressed in mind, as 
 though it had all been real; I was at length delivered by 
 an unseen hand. Some time after this, (probably the 
 next day,) I had my reason for a while, and perceived 
 that the inside of my hands was exceeding black; I was 
 surprised. At first, I had the weakness to suppose that 
 the skin on the inside of rny hands had died, and was 
 pealing off. But on closer inspection I perceived it to 
 be dirt, and spoke to some of my room- mates on the cir 
 cumstance, who informed me that I had wallowed on the 
 floor; and I found my knees were in a similar condi 
 tion with my hands. Whether I got off of my bed de 
 signedly or accidentally, I cannot say; but finding my 
 self off, I endeavored to get on again, and would get up 
 on my knees and lay my breast upon my bed, then raise 
 up one knee upon the edge of the bed, and as soon as I 
 lifted the other knee from the floor, I would fall back on 
 the floor again. How long I was in this situation or by 
 what means I was relieved, I cannot say; thus my ship 
 wreck and deliverance is interpreted. 
 
 This circumstance occasioned watchers to be sent 
 into this ward. My bed was moved from the corner of 
 the room to the centre, and two young men from the 
 prison volunteered to watch me. I presume I was quite 
 troublesome. 1 have at this time a perfect recollection 
 of some of the occurrences which took place at the time. 
 I supposed myself to have been placed on a bed on the 
 
94 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 broad stair of the long prison; the two young men seem 
 ed to have been bed-fellows with me; and \ve seemed 
 all to have got into a mutual humorous scuffle. But I 
 thought I discovered partiality in them, and was soon 
 convinced that they were both against me, and they ar 
 bitrarily insisted on my continuing there, while they 
 (alter they had worried me out) would seat themselves 
 at a little distance arid laugh at me. This treatment I 
 very much resented, and as soon as I had recovered 
 breath, would make another attempt to leave the bed. 
 They would immediately rise and prevent, and even, 
 hold me down. This they did several times. 
 
 At length, one time while they were adjusting the bed 
 clothes, 1 cautiously and suddenly drew up my knees 
 over my breast, and clapped my feet against the breast 
 of one of those young men, and directly laid him sprawl 
 ing on the floor; the other young man was so engaged 
 in laughter, that, he could pay but little or no attention 
 to me. I was directly on end in the bed, determined to 
 quit this unpleasant confinement, and vainly imagining 
 that I had more than half gained the victory; but the 
 young man very soon rose from the floor, met me, 
 caught me by the shoulders, and gave me a pretty se 
 vere shake, and laid me down again. This brought me 
 to myself; I perfectly understood the whole business, 
 and for the then present time gave them no further 
 trouble. I felt extremely weak, and was glad to lay still. 
 Said Dick to Jim, " I think he sheeted you home nicely." 
 " Yes," said Jim, with a very hard word, lt who would 
 have thought he had been so strong." 
 
 This humorous circumstance excited no levity in me 
 at that time: I was so exceedingly exhausted, that it 
 seemed us if soul and body must very shortly part. The 
 doctor had ordered a blister on my neck and shoulders, 
 .six or seven inches square. When Ben Hunt, rny nurse, 
 put the blister on, I was tolerably rational, and said to 
 him, " Ben, how long before you will dress my blister?" 
 " In twenty-four hours," said Ben. I was very careful 
 to notice where the sun shone in on the wall at that 
 time, so as to know whether I should be neglected. I 
 soon got into a drowse, but in less than an hour I arous- 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 95 
 
 ed up again and my first business was to ascertain wheth 
 er the twenty-four hours had elapsed, for I thought 
 my blister demanded attention. I carefully noticed the 
 shining of the sun on the wall, and so far as it had gone 
 from the mark, so long in my imagination I had been 
 neglected; and therefore thought it necessary to remind 
 Ben of his duty, and began to call out for Ben Hunt, 
 and in order to be in readiness for him, I got up in my 
 bed, and continued my vociferations for Ben Hunt. 
 
 I was preparing to get off my shirt, some of my room 
 mates interfered by remonstrating against my proceed 
 ings; (for they were unable otherwise to interfere) I gave 
 them what at that time I supposed to be a suitable rep 
 rimand, and continued to prepare for Ben. I unbutton 
 ed my sleeves and collar, took off my shirt, carefully roll 
 ed it up, lifted up the mattrass, and laid it upon the sack 
 ing bottom; I also took off my blister plaster and laid it 
 away with my shirt, still singing out for Ben Hunt. I 
 cannot say how my room-mates were entertained with my 
 management. They however assisted me in rallying Ben. 
 At length Ben came staving into the ward with his eyes 
 wide open, and his yellow hair waving on his shoulders, 
 not a little alarmed at hearing so many calling out to him 
 at the same time. His attention was directed and im 
 mediately turned to Sherburne. He came at me in haste 
 and in a great rage. He had no sooner opened the door, 
 however, than I assailed him with a severe reprimand 
 for neglecting a fellow at this rate. He caught me by 
 the shoulders and gave me a shake, nor was hrs address 
 to me more delicate than mine had been to him. He 
 had no sooner shaken me than my senses returned, and 
 1 immediately sunk into his hands. He inquired for the 
 plaster and shirt, I readily told him; he put them on again, 
 and covered me over, swore pretty hard at me and left 
 me. I made no reply. 
 
 I believe I had watchers that night, but they had less 
 cause to complain than before, for I believe that I rested 
 tolerably well. In the morning when Ben dressed my 
 blister I was quite relieved from the pain which had tor 
 tured my breast, and Ben was in a much pleasanter 
 mood than when he caught me with my shirt off. But I 
 was extremely languid, and so continued for sometime. 
 
U6 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 1 do not now recollect, the name of our hospital physi 
 cian; but I believe his name was Ran. At any rate he 
 was one of the best of men and paid especial attention to 
 the sick. Uncle Lawrence (as every body called him) 
 was overseer; he was a prisoner, and had been from the 
 commencement of the war. 
 
 Under veiy peculiar circumstances he went into the 
 hospital at an early period, and there become a convert to 
 the Christian religion; and such was his deportment, 
 that he commanded the respect of all who knew him. 
 The physicians had so much confidence in him that they 
 made him overseer of the nurses and the sick. 
 
 It was a great blessing to the sick in those hospitals, 
 that they were under the care of such a physician as doc 
 tor Ran, and that the nurses should be under the care 
 and direction of a man so affectionate and faithful as 
 was Mr. Lawrence. 
 
 When it pleased God to restore my reason, I discov 
 ered that I was exceeding weak and continued so for 
 some time. . 1 was not able to raise myself up in bed. 
 I ascertained that my cure was doubtful in the judgment 
 of the physicians: and when I began to mend it was ve 
 iy slowly. 
 
 One day two of my young friends came to me and said. 
 "Sherburne, why do you lie here ? come you must get up." 
 I told them I should be glad if I could. They said they 
 would help me, and that the doctor had directed Ihem 
 to help me up. They got my clothes and put them on. 
 This was probably sometime in the month of May. 
 They led me into the yard; one on each side, holding 
 me up by the arms. As soon as they had led me into 
 the sun, I fainted: they took me up and carried me into 
 the room where there were two outer doors which were 
 opposite to each other, in which were several couches to 
 accommodate the convalescent. Here they laid me 
 on a couch. I spent most of the day in this place, and 
 felt some refreshed. The next day I was taken out a- 
 gain, and in the course of the day I was able to stand 
 alone, with a staff in my hand. I was treated very kind 
 ly by the doctor and uncle Lawrence, but I gained but 
 very slowly, 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 97 
 
 Several weeks before this time, the prisoners had re 
 ceived the intelligence that shortly there was to be a 
 general exchange of prisoners, and about the time I got 
 on to my legs again, the Lady s Adventure, a ship of 
 four hundred tons, commanded by Capt. Mitchel Hum 
 ble, had actually got into the sound or harbor. There 
 was joy indescribable among the prisoners. My doctor, 
 in order to raise my spirits, told me the ship had arrived 
 to take us to our own country ; that she would sail in two or 
 three weeks, and that I must take the best possible care 
 of myself, that I might go in her. A week or ten days 
 passed away and I mended very slowly, 
 
 The ship before mentioned was bound to Boston, and 
 in a week or two another was going to Philadelphia, and 
 in a few weeks after a third would sail with the remain 
 der of the prisoners for some port of the United States. 
 
 Finally the time arrived for the doctor to discharge 
 from the hospital all that were sufficiently recovered. 
 Every man went to his own bed and sat until the doc 
 tor passed him. He passed by me with some pleasant 
 ceremony. But I perceived he had not taken down my 
 name. My heart almost sunk within me. I arose and 
 followed him, and as he was about leaving the hospital, 
 I said to him " Doctor, I believe you have not got my 
 name." He replied, " God bless you, my son; it will 
 never do for you to think of leaving the hospital in your 
 situation. You are a more suitable person to enter a 
 hospital than to leave one." " Sir," said I, " you prom 
 ised me that I should go in this ship." Said he, " I was 
 in hopes you would have been able to go in her, but you 
 are so sick that it will never do: you would not live to 
 get outside the Eddystone; there are four hundred or 
 more going in her, and they will be so crowded, that you 
 would die directly. I should be very happy to discharge 
 you if I thought it would do. We have had such a hard 
 time in raising you so far, that I should be very sorry to 
 lose you now, and especially through imprudence. 
 You would never live to see America, and your blood 
 would be on my head. There is another ship going in a 
 week or two, have patience, and stay until she is ready, 
 and by that time I am in hopes you will be strong enough 
 9 
 
98 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 to go." " But, Sir," said I, " the other ship is going to 
 Philadelphia, and I should he a great way from home." 
 a No matter for that," replied the doctor, "you will be 
 ia your own country." " But, Sir," said I, "all my ac 
 quaintance and townsmen are going in this ship, and 
 she is going near my home, and if 1 do not go in her, I 
 shall never get home. I have a number of good friends 
 up in the prison, who are going in this; t am sure they 
 will take good care of me; but if they all go and leave 
 me, I shall never get home." Uncle Lawrence, and 
 twenty others were listening to the doctor and me, and 
 as I turned my eyes toward uncle Lawrence, I saw the 
 tears trickling down his manly face. The beloved doc 
 tor was in the same condition, and my readers must judge 
 for themselves, how it was with me. Uncle Lawrence 
 then spoke and said, "Doctor, I don t know but that you 
 may as well discharge him, and as I am going in the 
 same ship, if you will discharge him I will give you my 
 word, that I will pay particular attention to him." "O 
 well, well," said the doctor, " in that case, uncle Law 
 rence, I will venture to discharge him; for I can trust 
 him in your care, and I hope he will do well, but if he 
 dies, his blood must be upon his own head." " O, Sir," 
 said I, (feeling almost well,) " the sea always agrees 
 well with me, and I believe I should gain faster on board 
 the ship than I should here." The good doctor placed 
 my name on the list of the discharged, gave us the best 
 wishes, and left us. The same day we were guarded 
 from the hospital to the prison, 
 
 I shall now venture to detail some peculiar occurren 
 ces which I had heretofore resolved never to express 
 either with my tongue or pen. But having receded 
 from that determination, I shall narrate the circumstances 
 as correctly as my memory will admit. When our com 
 pany from the hospital entered the prison yard, the first 
 of my townsmen who spoke to me was John B r. He 
 was a respectable young man, but rather profane, and 
 at this time he had been drinking rather freely. As they 
 were to leave the prison that afternoon, they allowed 
 themselves some strong beer, which at any time might 
 be had at the gate; and although most of them were 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 99 
 
 destitute of money, those who had it would supply the 
 destitute, and indeed they were all lively and rather noi 
 sy, hut this was not to be wondered at on the present 
 occasion. John 13 r accosted me as follows: " Why 
 d nye, Sherburne, are you alive? We heard you were 
 dead. Why I thought the d 1 had got you before this 
 time. We did nt know tho hut that you might go to 
 heaven. Why they said that Sherburne was as crazy as 
 the d 1 ? down there in the hospital, and that he pray 
 ed like a minister. I don t know hut that you might 
 have gone to heaven." 
 
 If 1 had been detected in the grossest villainy, I should 
 not have felt more mortified. I did not know that there 
 was a creature in existence that had ever heard me pray; 
 and was ashamed to have it known among my shipmates, 
 that I prayed. 
 
 Such is the depravity of the human heart, that \ve are 
 ashamed to have it thought that we have any true rever 
 ence for God or any regard for the eternal welfare of the 
 immortal soul. 1 hurried out of Jack s sight as soon as 
 possible, and began to reflect on the scenes through which 
 I had passed in the hospital, and in addition to those 
 which I have already related, the followiag came fresh 
 into my mind. 
 
 I recollected that while in the hospital, I had the impres 
 sion, that myself, and many others, were on an exten 
 sive hay of broken ice, some miles from the land; that 
 myself and hundreds were making our flight toward the 
 shore with great precipitation, springing Irom one piece 
 of ice to another; some pieces seemed to be several 
 yards in diameter, and others not more than a foot. In 
 some instances the spaces were so great between the 
 pieces that it required the utmost effort to leap from one 
 to another: and to increase our distress, Satan was pur 
 suing hard after u. I have no recollection of having 
 seen him, but I have of hearing the shrieks of others 
 whom he caught, and was every moment in fear of being 
 caught myself. I did not dare to look behind me, lest it 
 should retard my flight. It is utterly impossible to de 
 scribe the terror I then felt. My strength was so much 
 exhausted that it did not seem possible that I could much 
 
100 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 longer continue my flight, and my foothold seemed more 
 and more precarious, and to add to my affliction, the 
 land was receding. Consternation and despair got hold 
 on me: I thought if I could fly, 1 might possibly escape, 
 and at the same moment I lifted my eyes, and in the air 
 I saw a place of safety two or three hundred feet high; 
 and at an angle of about forty-five degrees. But I had 
 no wings unless I could substitute my arms for wings. 
 Immediately my arms became wings, and I found my 
 self fluttering and rising. The place which I beheld, 
 was a sort of a cupola or gallery; the part towards me 
 was of a simicircular form, in which was the appearance 
 of three persons, apparently of angelic form, the middle 
 figure or person rather advanced, and all appeared per 
 fectly stationary. But I found myself by no means an ar 
 tist at flying: however I continued to rise, and thought 
 best to endeavor to shape my course so as to rise higher 
 than this gallery, lest, in consequence of my awkwardness 
 in flying, I should make some blunder and fall short of my 
 desired object. I therefore rose several degrees above 
 this object, and when I changed my course, it proved 
 according to my fears, and I was beginning to sink, but 
 this gallery left its station, and gently waved toward me, 
 so that I just reached the foot between the middle per 
 son s feet. I seemed to myself to be quite a small an 
 imal. When I first began to exercise my wings and rise, 
 my distress and fears began to subside, and my joy in 
 creased; yet I was not without fear, and when 1 began 
 to come short, I began to despair; but when I obtained 
 my object, I was perfectly happy. I felt something as 
 I did when I landed on Cape St. Mary s, from the wreck 
 of the Duchess of Cumberland. 
 
 For some time after John B. expressed himself as be 
 fore related, I was very fearful that he or some other 
 would bring the subject forward again; but I never heard 
 any more of it. 
 
 The time was now come for us to embark for our na 
 tive land, and the people generally were all life on the 
 occasion. Some of them had been there more than six 
 years. I felt quite revived on being discharged from the 
 hospital; but after all could make out to walk but poorly, 
 
ANDREW 8HERBURNE. 
 
 with two small canes. With difficulty 
 
 -get to the water side, about twenty rods, 
 
 to get on board the boat without help, and when we got 
 
 alongside of the ship, my friends put me on board. Sly 
 
 Portsmouth and Kittery friends released my good friend 
 
 Lawrence, from his charge. 
 
 Capt. John Seward, Capt. Mark Firnald, Ephraim 
 Clark, Aaron Goodwin, Mr. Bodge, and Nehemiah 
 Weymouth, having some money, procured sea stores, 
 viz. coffee, tea, sugar, &c. which together with the 
 ship s allowance admitted of their living very well. 
 They very kindly took me into their mess, and promised 
 to take care of me upon the condition that if I got 
 able, I should wait on the mess: that was to boil tea-ket 
 tle, Sic. I believe the ship did not lie in port many 
 hours after we got on board, before we were under way 
 for the land of liberty. My good friends took care of 
 me, and I was very careful of myself, and found that 
 I gained very fast; and in the course of a week was able 
 to wait on the mess. This was only to boil the tea-ket 
 tle night and morning; and in a fortnight I was able to 
 get to mast head. The ship s crew had but very little 
 to do, for there were so many smart sailors among the 
 prisoners, who had been so long conh ned, that it was 
 diversion for them to work the ship. 
 
 We had not been out many days before there was a 
 revolution on board. His Majesty allowed us only two- 
 thirds allowance; but it was ascertained that there was 
 a great plenty of provisions on board. The yankees 
 were determined to have enough to eat, and there being 
 a number of active officers among us, they and the sail 
 ors laid the plan, and at a certain signal being given, 
 the men were to rush upon the quarter deck, and take 
 the helm, and our officers were to inform the Captain 
 that they had command of his ship. They made no re 
 sistance, nor would it have been of any consequence 
 for them, for they were under forty, and there was 
 something like four hundred of us. All that we reques 
 ted was full allowance. And having obtained our pur 
 pose, the ship was given up to Capt. Humble again. 
 
 We had rather a kmg, though a very pleasant pas- 
 9* 
 
102 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 sage. The ship was ordered to Boston, but having fal 
 len in to the east of Boston, and there being a large 
 proportion of Marblehead men on board, they insisted 
 upon going into Marblehead. Myself and my friend 
 Wilds among the rest, 
 
 Thus by the mercy of God, we once more set our feet 
 on the American shore, after having been absent 
 about fifteen months. It was truly astonishing to me 
 when i recapitulated and brought again to view, 
 the various changing scenes through which 1 had passed 
 since I first went on board the Greyhound. It was now 
 about two years since I landed at Rhode-Island, from 
 Charleston, S. C, I had then a guardian, but now I 
 had none; and was moneyless, but I recollected that by 
 Capt. Wild s recommendation, the crew of the Grey 
 hound had appointed a Mr. Foster, of Salem, our agent. 
 I inquired out the gentleman and found him in Salem, 
 which adjoins Marblehead, where we landed. But Mr. 
 Foster knew nothing of us personally, though our names 
 had been returned to him as belonging to the crew of the 
 Greyhound. 
 
 He was therefore inquisitive with us, for both Wilds 
 and myself had entered the privateer after sue left Sa 
 lem. When in conversation with Mr. Foster, Mr. 
 Tucker, who was first Lieutenant of the Greyhound, 
 came in, (it is probable Mr. F. had sent for him,) and 
 the conversation continued some time before either 
 AVilds or myself recognised Lieut. Tucker; he being at 
 this time genteelly dressed, he made a very different ap 
 pearance from what he did when on board the privateer. 
 
 We learned by Lieut. Tucker that nothing was known 
 of our fate since we left the privateer, and it was suppos 
 ed that we were lost at sea. We also learned by him that 
 the Greyhound after we left her had taken a valua 
 ble prize: a brig laden with English goods, stationary, 
 and provisions, bound to Quebec; and that the said 
 prize got safely into Salem, and the Greyhound was 
 captured by the enemy, taken into Halifax, and the 
 Crew after a short confinement were exchanged, and 
 all got home. Captain Tucker also informed us that 
 the owners of the Greyhound had built another privateer 
 
ANDREW SHERBURXE, 103 
 
 with the avails of their prize, which was worth as much 
 again as the old Greyhound, and gave her the same 
 name, and that she was at that time at sea. 
 
 Mr. Foster informed us that our share of the prize 
 was sixty-three pounds sterling each, and that the goods 
 had been divided according to the invoice. I had left a 
 power of attorney with my mother, and she had employ 
 ed my uncle Timothy Weymouth, (whom I have before 
 mentioned) to draw my share of the goods and of the 
 money for which the brig was sold. Wilds father had 
 also drawn his share; consequently there was nothing 
 coming to us. However, Captain Tucker and Mr. 
 Foster had the goodness to give us two or three dollars 
 each to bear our expenses home. 
 
 We took our leave of our generous friends, and be 
 took ourselves to our journey with a pleasure not easily 
 described. We had been companions in our travels for 
 about a year and a quarter, and had always been in per 
 fect harmony and friendship, and had now about forty- 
 five miles further to journey with each other; and having 
 no other company, it came in course for us to review 
 the various trying scenes we had passed together, and 
 to anticipate the joys we shortly expected in meeting our 
 friends. 
 
 My mother, brothers and sisters had despaired of ever 
 seeing me again, until some of my shipmates who were 
 ahead of me gave information of my being on the way 
 home; so that I did not come upon them unexpectedly. 
 I was, nevertheless, to them almost as one rose from the 
 dead. But "each^pleasure hath its poison." There was 
 no intelligence of Thomas, and my mother s joys were 
 mingled with pain, as my return excited a more anxious 
 concern for her first born. 
 
 Wilds tarried a night with me; in the morning I ac 
 companied him to the wharf, where he found a coaster 
 going to Saco, which was within four miles of Cape Per- 
 poise, where he lived. He went on board, and there we 
 parted, and have never met each other since- 
 
104 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Shipped Boatswain of the Brig Scorpion chased by 
 British Frigate Hove of deck load Escape her 
 (rocs to Guadaloupc Chased by the Bee, a British 
 privateer (jroes to Mount Saratt Sails fur Alexan 
 dria, Vir. Chased by a frigate Captured by the 
 Amphion Put on board the old Jersey Sick on 
 board hospital ship on board a second hospital ship 
 with his uncle Went in a cartel to Newport, R. 1. 
 Travels home a sick beggar. 
 
 I WAS at this time blessed with good health, and felt 
 as though I had never been otherwise. It was now un 
 speakably pleasant to visit my several uncles, aunts and 
 cousins, who had all despaired of ever seeing me again. 
 
 It would seem as if nothing could be more entertain 
 ing to my uncles and their children, than to hear An 
 drew s stories about a British man of war, shipwreck, 
 imprisonment, &.c. But this business would not do to 
 live by. Andrew had now health and some ambition, 
 and probably no small share of pride. Men who may 
 have patience to read these pages, will remember that 
 they were once boys. 
 
 It was now the question with me, what I should do. 
 How " to dig," I had almost forgotten, and " to beg I 
 was ashamed." There was a letter of marque brig of 
 eight carriage guns, called the Scorpion, fitting out for 
 the West-Indies, to be commanded by Capt. R. Salter; 
 and my good friend Richard S. Tibbitts, who was rny 
 tutor in Mill Prison, was going one of the mates, and I 
 had the offer of going boatswain, and the privilege of 
 four thousand of lumber to the VV est-Indies, and as much 
 as I wished from the West-Indies te Alexandria, in Vir 
 ginia; and from thence to France, I was to have the 
 privilege of two hogsheads of tobacco. The brig was 
 soon ready for sea; and I must soon leave my mother 
 and sisters again in tears. With eighteen hands we 
 shaped our course for the West-Indies. We had been 
 out about five days, and were descried by one of his most 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 105 
 
 gracious Majesty s frigates, which chased us from ten, 
 A. M. to three, P. M. under what the sailors would call 
 a stiff and increasing breeze, and though our brig was 
 an excellent sailer, she rather gained upon us. We 
 were, therefore, obliged to heave off our deck load, and 
 then very easily escaped her. 
 
 Nothing especial hefel us after this, until we arrived 
 at Guadaloupe. Our Captain being dissatisfied with the 
 market, shaped his course for Montserrat. The British 
 cruisers at this time kept a sharp look out among the 
 West-India islands for the Yankees, and as we went 
 out of the bay, we discovered a brig which had conceal 
 ed herself behind a point of land. She appeared to be 
 in rather a careless situation, until \ve had got so far 
 from the harbor, that she could intercept our retreat; 
 she then began to make sale and gave us chase. We 
 had a fresh breeze, and were running almost before the 
 wind; the masts and spars of each vessel would about 
 bear all the sail we could crowd upon them. It was an 
 eventful period with us, for we saw that she was deter 
 mined to come up with us, and we had every reason to 
 believe she was an enemy, and that she had too many 
 guns for us. I presume there never was a fairer chase. 
 
 I do not now recollect the distance from Guadaloupe 
 to Montserrat, but be it more or less, she chased us from 
 one island, even into the harbor of the other. The chase 
 continued from eight or nine o clock in the morning, un 
 til three or four, P. M. 
 
 Our pursuer was the brig Bee, mounting sixteen guns, 
 and reputed a very fast sailer. She was within a milo 
 of us when the chase began, and after having chased us 
 several hours, a heavy squall, (in which she was obliged 
 to douse a considerable number of her sails) brought her 
 within forty rod of us, yet she did not fire a gun. 
 
 We had as many hands as were necessary to work 
 our vessel, and I question whether there was ever a ves 
 sel worked in a more masterly manner. 
 
 The same squall which struck the Bee, in turn struck 
 us also; but we having had opportunity to observe its 
 weight and effect upon the privateer, were better pre 
 pared for it. We being in complete readiness 5 every 
 
106 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 man having a perfect knowledge of his business we 
 took in our studding-sails, clewed up our topgallant- 
 sails, and let run our top-sails, jib and stay-sails, and 
 immediately commenced setting them again. The Scor 
 pion now left the .Bee as fast us the Bee had gained on 
 the Scorpion in the time of the squall. 
 
 The Bee, notwithstanding, daringly continued her 
 chase even into the harbor of Montserrat. The Bee 
 kept French colors flying during the whole chase; but 
 I am not certain whether we showed any colors. We 
 ran as near the shore as we durst, and let go our an 
 chor. She came within a hundred yards of us, wore 
 ship and hailed us. While laying under our stern, 
 broadside too, she had opportunity to have done us 
 considerable injury, by raking us; but her commander 
 had the humanity and generosity to refrain from in 
 juring us, except to affrighten us, and more especially 
 the French pilot and his boat s crew, who bv this 
 time had got on board, and seeing the Bee laying 
 broadside to us, her ports up and guns out, were in 
 expectation of receiving a broadside. 
 
 Some of them jumped below and others fell upon 
 their faces, crying out "foutre d Anglais." The Bee 
 stood to sea again, under all the saii she could set. 
 
 The fort immediately commenced firing upon her, 
 but she seemed to bid them defiance, by hauling down 
 her French colors and displaying the English flag, 
 and made her escape without receiving any injury. 
 This extraordiaary chase and mancuuvreing must have 
 ba*n highly interesting to a disinterested spectator. 
 
 This was my first voyage to the West-indies; conse 
 quently there were new scenes presented to my view. 
 It was appalling to my feelings, to sue the hungry and 
 almost naked slaves, toiling, and sometimes almost sink 
 ing under their burdens, and suffering the cruel scourges 
 of their drivers. Some of them having iron collars about 
 their necks, with a chain suspended from it: others with 
 an iron collar, with four hooks, fifteen or twenty inches 
 iong each; one extending over eacli shoulder, one ex 
 tending forward, and another behind. Others, again, 
 with a heavy chain fastened to the leg; and in other in- 
 
ANDREW SHERBUHNE. 107 
 
 stances, two chained together. Their children in gen 
 eral were entirely naked. The men generally had no 
 other olotbing than a coarse apron, reaching nearly to 
 their knees; and the females no other clothing than a kind 
 of petticoat of coarse cloth. The females are frequently 
 seen carrying a tub of water, or a large basket of fruit, or 
 of bottles, upon their heads, so completely ballanced, as 
 not to have occasion to put their hands to them. 
 
 Their oranges, pine apples, and other fruits, were to 
 me a luxury indeed; but their water was by no means 
 agreeable, and it was the advice of our officers, that we 
 should drink none, without rum mixed with it. 
 
 As yet I had been very temperate. I had never been 
 partial to grog; it was indeed offensive to me; but while 
 working in the vessel s hole getting out lumber, and it 
 being exceedingly warm, I perspired abundantly, and 
 had frequently occasion to drink, so that by degrees, 
 grog was less offensive to me, and I may say with prc- 
 priety, that I never really loved it; but I could not say so 
 with respect to punch. 
 
 I had been very hard to work one day, and had drank 
 freely; in the evening I went ashore in the boat after 
 the Captain and with my shipmates went up to a grocery 
 and drank freely of punch, and to be in fashion, I took a 
 lighted cigar and walked down to the beach; but felt 
 very light headed. I felt very glad to get seated. The 
 Captain was ready, and we pulled off to the vessel; I 
 could handle my oar well enough, but found it rather dif 
 ficult getting on board the brig. Mr. Tibbits noticed my 
 situation, and the next day was careful to admonish me. 
 I was not a little mortified at the thought of having been 
 intoxicated, and resolved to guard against this destruc 
 tive practice. 
 
 Having discharged our cargo, and taken the avails in 
 West Indiaproduce, we shaped our course for Alexandria, 
 in Virginia. I had on board a hogshead of mm, a barrel 
 of sugar, and a barrel of limes. We met with nothing 
 extraordinary, until we came near the coast of Virginia, 
 we then experienced a dreadful gale of wind, in which 
 we felt ourselves in jeopardy. We got down our top gal 
 lant jards and masts, and settled our top masts about the 
 
103 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 middle of the day; about midnight the gale abated. In 
 the morning, we had little wind but a heavy sea; and 
 we discovered three large ships within a few miles of us, 
 and perceived that they had experienced, the effects of 
 the gale as well as ourselves. We had no doubt that 
 they were British men of war. They, as well as ourselves, 
 got up topmasts, &c. They made sail, and gained upon 
 us; the wind was light; the sea abated; but there was a 
 very heavy swell. 
 
 Our vessel being much smaller than any of them, by 
 pitching at every swell, deadened her way. They gain 
 ed upon us quite fast. We very much feared we should 
 fall into their hands. We were disposed to use every 
 effort to escape them. We got out our long oars at about 
 eight in the morning, and rowed all day; we did not 
 leave off even to eat. 
 
 Our pursuers did not gain much upon us after twelve 
 o clock. When night came on, the wind increased to 
 such a degree that our oars were no longer to be employ 
 ed to advantage. We made all sail we possibly could, 
 intending to stand on our course until ten o clock, and 
 then heave in stays, hoping thereby to aviod our pursu 
 ers. At ten o clock we had quite a fresh breeze, and 
 our Captain concluded to stand on until twelve. At 
 twelve o clock we hove about, and kept a bright look out 
 until one, supposing that we had completely escaped our 
 pursuers; and indeed we had, but they were not our only 
 enemies. 
 
 At two o clock we fell in with his Majesty s ship Am 
 phion. of forty guns. We were standing directly for 
 each other. As soon as we discovered her, we hove 
 about; but all our endeavors to escape her were abortive, 
 for we were within musket shot. 
 
 It is said of the ancient Amphion, that by the music 
 of his harp he built the city of Thebes. The music of 
 the modern Amphion, though not charming, was pow 
 erful: although she failed to bring us to by firing mus 
 kets, the discharge of a few of her heavy cannon accom 
 plished her object. We were then within two days sail 
 of our port, and we had fancied ourselves almost safe, 
 but our hopes of a prosperous voyage were now all blast- 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 109 
 
 ed; our property gone, and we had no other prospect 
 than that of taking up our quarters on board the old Jer 
 sey prison ship, in New- York harbor. 
 
 This was now the third time I had fallen into the hands 
 of the enemy. I had but just escaped with my life from 
 tVe two preceding imprisonments, and my prospects 
 were more dubious than they had been before. It was 
 now about the middle of November, 1782, about one year 
 from the time I was released from the Fairy, in Plymouth 
 sound. It being night, the sailors plundered us of every 
 thing we did not hold fast in our hands. Our Captain, 
 Mr. Tibbits, and three others continued on board the 
 Scorpion, which was afterwards cast away, but I believe 
 no lives were lost. 
 
 Thirteen of us were put on board the Amphion, and 
 put down in the cable tiers under two decks, where we 
 found near a hundred of our countrymen, who had fallen 
 into their hands. We were very much crowded, and 
 having nothing but the cables to lay upon, our beds were 
 as hard and unpleasant as though they were made of 
 cord wood, and indeed we had not sufficient room for 
 each to stretch himself at the same time. 
 
 After about two weeks, (in which time we had a vio 
 lent storm,) we arrived at New- York, and were put on 
 board that wretched ship, the Jersey. The New- York 
 prison ships had been the terror of American tars for years. 
 The old Jersey had become notorious in consequence 
 of the unparalleled mortality on board of her. She was 
 said to have been rated and registered as a sixty-four 
 gun ship, but had mounted seventy-four guns. She was 
 moored in the East river, at or near a place called the 
 "Wallabout, on Long Island shore. Directly opposite, 
 there was a high bank of loose sand. It used to be cal 
 led the "Volley bank." 
 
 1 will here give my readers an extract from an oration 
 pronounced by Jonathan Russell, Esq. on the 4th of 
 July, 1800, in the Baptist meeting-house, in Providence, 
 Rhode-Island. 
 
 "But, it was not in the ardent conflict of the field on 
 ly that our countrymen fell. It was not the ordinary 
 chances of war, alone, which they had to encounter. 
 10 
 
1 10 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Happy indeed, thrice happy, were WARREN, MONTGOM 
 ERY, and MIISER. Happy those other gallant spirits, 
 who fell with glory in the heat of battle; distinguished 
 by their country, and covered with her applause. Eve 
 ry soul sensible to honor, envies rather than compassion 
 ates their fate. It was in the dungeons of our inhuman 
 invaders! it was in their loathsome and pestiferous pris 
 on-ships, that the wretchedness of our countrymen still 
 makes the heart bleed. It was there, that hunger and 
 thirst, and disease, and all the contumely which cold heart 
 ed cruelty could bestow, sharpened every pang of death. 
 Misery there wrung every fibre that could leel, before 
 she gave the blow of grace, which sent the sufferer to 
 eternity. It is said that poison was employed. No 
 there was no such mercy there. There, nothing was em 
 ployed which could blunt the susceptibility to anguish, or 
 which, by hastening death, could rob its agonies of a sin 
 gle pang. On board one only of those prison-ships, above 
 eleven thousand of our brave countrymen are said to have 
 perished. She was called the Jersey, Her wreck still re 
 mains, and at low ebb, presents to the world its accursed 
 and blighted fragments. Twice in twenty-four hours 
 the winds sigh through it, and repeat the groans of our 
 expiring countrymen; and twice the ocean hides in its bo- 
 sorn those deadly and polluted ruins which all her waters 
 cannot purify. Every rain that descends washes from the 
 consecrated bank the bones* of those intrepid sufferers. 
 They lie naked on the shore, accusing the neglect of 
 their countrymen. How long shall gratitude, and even 
 piety deny them burial." 
 
 I entered the Jersey towards the last of November. I 
 had just entered the eighteenth year of my age, and had 
 now to commence a scene of suffering almost without a 
 parallel. The ship was extremely filthy, and abounded 
 with vermin. A large proportion of the prisoners had 
 been robbed of their clothing. The ship was considera 
 bly crowded; many of the men were very low spirited; our 
 provisions ordinary, and very scanty. They consisted of 
 
 *These bones were collected and interred by the Tammany 
 Society, of New- York, in 1808. 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. Ill* 
 
 worm eaten ship bread, and salt beef. It was supposed 
 that this bread and beef had been condemned in the Brit 
 ish navy. The bread had been so eaten by weevils, that 
 one might easily crush it in the hand and blow it away. 
 The beef was exceedingly salt, and scarcely a particle of 
 fat could be seen upon it. The prisoners were divided 
 into messes, and each mess made a division among them 
 selves of the provisions which fell to them. The beef was 
 all put into a lar^e copper, perhaps five feet square and 
 four feet deep. The beef would fill the copper within a 
 few inches of the top; the copper was then filled up with 
 water, and the cover put on. Our fuel \vas green ches- 
 nut. The cook would commence his fire by seven or 
 eight in the morning, and frequently he would not get 
 his copper to boil until 12 o clock, and sometimes when 
 it was stormy weather, it would be two or three o clock. 
 I have known it to be the case that he could not get it to 
 boil in the course of the day. Those circumstances might 
 sometimes be owing to a want of judgment in the cooks, 
 who were freqently exchanged. Those misfortunes in 
 the cooks, would occasion many bitter complaints and 
 heavy curses from the half-starved, emaciated, and im 
 perious prisoners. 
 
 Under those circumstances, each mess would take its 
 meat, thus half cooked, and divide it among themselves, 
 as it was. A murmur is heard, probably in every mess, 
 and from almost every tongue. The cook is denounced, 
 or perhaps declines any further service: another volun 
 teers his services, and probably in a few days shares the 
 fate of his predecessor. There was a company of pris 
 oners who were called the working party: they used to 
 o under a guard, to bring water, wood, provisions, &c. 
 Those persons, as well as those who had served a certain 
 time as cooks, were to be privileged by being first ex 
 changed. There were three or four other old ships ly 
 ing about the Jersey, which were used for hospitals, and 
 the working party attended on them also. 
 
 When I had been about four weeks on board, to my 
 astonishment, my uncle, James Weymouth, who was cap 
 tured with me at Charleston, S. C. was brought on board. 
 He also had been on a voyage to the West Indies, and 
 
I 
 
 112 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 * 
 
 was captured on his return home. It was with emotions 
 of deep regret, accompanied with some small degree of 
 joy, that we met together on board this dismal ship. We 
 had not seen each other since we were captured together 
 in Charleston. I shall have occasion to speak hereafter 
 of this man, on the list of my best friends, viz. Powers, 
 Fox, Tibbits, and those other gentlemen before named, 
 who bestowed so much care on me in Mill Prison, and 
 on board the Lady s Adventure. 
 
 The British were at this time so strong at New-York, 
 their frigates and other armed vessels were so numerous 
 that they scoured our whole coast, and exceedingly an 
 noyed our commerce. Some time in the first of the win 
 ter, they took the Chesapeake frigate of about thirty guns, 
 (from Philadelphia, if I do not mistake) and think she 
 had as many as three hundred hands. About the time 
 her crew were brought on board, it began to be ex 
 ceedingly sickly among the prisoners. The hospital 
 ships began to be crowded. The Chesapeake s crew 
 died exceedingly fast, for a large proportion of them 
 were fresh hands, who had never been at sea before; 
 they were out but ft few days before they were taken, 
 and the contrast between their modes of living, at 
 home, and on board the Jersey, was so great, that it was 
 thought from this circumstance they could not endure 
 hardship so well as those who had been more inured 
 to poor living. Our daily fare was this miserable salt 
 beef and dry wormy bread; except once a week, we had 
 a mess of what is called burgoo, or mush, (the Yankee 
 would call it hasty pudding,) made of oat meal and wa 
 ter. This oat meal was scarcely ever sweet : it was 
 generally so musty and bitter, that none but people suf 
 fering as we did. could eat it. Most of the prisoners, 
 however, had more or less money with them when cap 
 tured, and there were boats from the city along side ev 
 ery day when the weather would admit, with various 
 kinds of provisions to sell. 
 
 As long as one s money lasted, he could have better 
 fare than his most gracious Majesty allowed him. I be 
 lieve I had but five or six dollars when I was captured, 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 113 
 
 and with this small sum I endeavored to use the strictest 
 economy. 
 
 There were large quantities of provisions brought 
 from the city and sold to the prisoners, of the following 
 description. The livers and lights of sheep, cattle, 
 &c. were well hoiled, chopped fine, seasoned with pep 
 per and salt, and filled into the small intestines of those 
 animals; and a piece from seven to nine inches long, 
 sold to us for sixpence, York currency; that is, six cents 
 and a fourth. The most of my money went for those 
 meat puddings, and for bread. 
 
 Some time in January, 1783, I was taken sick, and 
 sent on board one of the hospital ships. This circum 
 stance occasioned a distressing scene, both to myself 
 and my uncle. My money was entirely gone; my un 
 cle had yet a few dollars: I think he gave me a dollar 
 or two, and we parted, with little expectation of ever 
 meeting again. The ship on which I entered was call 
 ed the Frederick, and was very much crowded; so that 
 two men were obliged to lie in one bunk. I was put 
 into a bunk with a young man whose name was W ills; 
 he belonged to Ipswich, in Massachusetts. The bunk 
 sat fore and aft directly under the ballast port, opposite 
 the main hatch way. Wills was a very pleasant young 
 man; of a serious turn, and was persuaded he should not 
 live. At this time my mind was very fluctuating, and 
 occasionally deranged. My bed-fellow was running 
 down very fast, but I was not at that time aware of it. 
 We were obliged occasionally to lay athwart each other, 
 for want of room: and I found the poor fellow very oblig 
 ing and accommodating. He appeared to have his rea 
 son until he was speechless, and finally died stretched 
 across me. 
 
 The death of a man in that place, and at that time, 
 excited but little notice; for a day did not pass with 
 out more or less deaths. I have seen seven dead men 
 drawn out and piled together on the lower hatchway, 
 who had died in one night on board the Frederick. 
 
 There were perhaps ten or twelve nurses belonging 
 to this ship, and I should say there were about one him- 
 10* 
 
114 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 tired sick: the nurses lived in the steerage, and whatev 
 er property or clothing the deceased left fell into their 
 hands. If the deceased had only a good head of hair, it 
 was taken off by the nurses and sold. The depravity of 
 the human heart was probably as fully exhibited in 
 those nurses, as in any other class of men. Some if not 
 all of them, were prisoners; and I believe they had 
 some compensation from the British government for 
 their services. They could indulge in playing cards, 
 and drinking, while their fellows were thirsting for wa 
 ter, and some dying. t 
 
 There were more or less of them among the sick the 
 greater part of the day; but at night the hatches were 
 shut down and locked, and there was not the least atten 
 tion paid to the sick or dying, except what could be 
 done by the convalescent; who were so frequently cal 
 led upon, that in many cases they overdid themselves, 
 relapsed and died. 
 
 After Mr. Wills, my bed-fellow was dead, I called 
 to the nurses to take him away, as he lay partly across 
 me, and I could not relieve myself: but they gave me 
 very hard words, and let the dead man lay upon me half 
 an hour before they removed him; and it was a great 
 favor to me that they took away the blankets that was 
 under us. I had now two blankets left me, a great 
 coat, and a little straw within a sack, under me; but 
 even with these, I suffered extremely with the cold. I 
 have frequently toiled the greatest part of the night, in 
 rubbing my feet and legs to keep them from freezing; 
 and while I was employed with one, it seemed as if the 
 other must absolutely freeze. I must then draw up the 
 coldest and rub upon that; and thus alternately work 
 upon the one and the other, for hours together: I was 
 sometimes inclined to abandon them to their fate, but 
 after a while I would feel excited to bestow a little more 
 labor upon them. In consequence of those chills, I 
 have been obliged to wear a laced stocking upon my 
 left leg for nearly thirty years past. My bunk was di 
 rectly against the ballast port; and the port not being 
 caulketl, when there came a snow storm, the snow would 
 
ANDREW SHfiRBURNE. 115 
 
 blow through the seams on my bed. In one instnnce, in 
 the morning, the snow was three or four inches deep up 
 on my bed; but in those cases there was one advantage 
 to me, when I could not otherwise procure water to 
 quench my thirst. The provision allowed the sick, was 
 a gill of wine, and twelve ounces of flour bread per day. 
 The wine was of an ordinary quality, and the bread made 
 of sour or musty flour, and sometimes poorly baked. 
 
 There was a small sheet-iron stove between decks, 
 but the fuel was green, and not plenty; and there were 
 some peevish and surly fellows generally about it. I 
 never got an opportunity to set by it; but I could gene- 
 ally get the favor of some one near it to lay a slice of 
 bread upon it, to warm or toast a little, to put into my 
 wine and water. We sometimes failed in getting our 
 wine for several days together: we had the promise of its 
 being made up to us, but this promise was seldom per 
 formed. With the money which my uncle gave me, I 
 sent ashore by one of the nurses, aud bought a tin pint 
 cup, a spoon, a few oranges, and a pound or two of sugar; 
 but I question whether I got the worth of my money. 
 The cup, however, was of infinite service to me. We 
 were always careful to procure our cups full of water 
 before the hatches were shut down at night; but there 
 was frequently a difficulty attending this: the water was 
 brought on board in casks by the working party, and 
 when it was very cold it would freeze in the casks, and 
 it would be difficult to get it out. 
 
 The nurses had their hands full of employment gene 
 rally by day, and often depended upon the convalescent 
 to serve the sick with water. At the close of the day, 
 a man would sometimes have half a dozen calling upon 
 him at the same time, begging to be supplied. I was fre 
 quently under the necessity of pleading hard to get my 
 cup filled. I could not eat my bread, but gave it to those 
 who brought me water. I have given three days allow 
 ance to have one tin cup of water brought to me. I was 
 under the necessity of using the strictest economy with 
 my cup of water; restricting myself to drink such a num 
 ber of swallows at a time, and make them very small: my 
 
1 16 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 thirst was so extreme that I would sometimes overrun 
 my number. 
 
 I became so habituated to number my swallows, that 
 for years afterwards I continued the habit, and even to 
 this day, I frequently involuntarily number my swallows. 
 There was one circumstance which I must by no means 
 forget. A company of the good citizens of New-York, 
 supplied all the sick with a pint of good Bohea Tea, 
 (well sweetened with molasses,) a day, and this was 
 constant. I believe this tea, under God s Providence, 
 saved my life, and the lives of hundreds of others. There 
 was no person of my acquaintance on board this ship: 
 some of our crew had gone on board some other hospital 
 ship before I left the Jersey. In the first of my sickness 
 I was delirious a considerable part of the time. I am 
 unable to say what my sickness might be denominated; 
 at any rate, it was severe. 
 
 The physicians used to visit the ship once in several 
 days: their stay was short, nor did they administer much 
 medicine. Were I able to give a full description of our 
 wretched and filthy condition, I should almost question . 
 whether it would be credited. I have but little recol 
 lection about the state of my mind while on board this 
 ship. This much, however, I still recollect; that I was 
 fearful I should die, and that hell would be my portion 
 1 prayed for mercy, and promised amendment of life, if 
 God would spare me. 
 
 H ow justly do such wretches deserve the lowest hell, 
 who being so frequently and so powerfully admonished, 
 still persist in transgression. 
 
 It was God s good pleasure to raise me up once more, 
 so that I could just make out to walk, and I was again 
 returned to the Jersey prison ship. 
 
 My first object, of course, was to find my uncle. As 
 I went below, all things looked melancholy. I inquired 
 for, and found my uncle: but alas! he was sick he was 
 very sick, and was called to go on board the same boat 
 that I had come in. We could not, therefore, be indulg 
 ed with each other s company for five minutes. This 
 was indeed an unspeakable treat to me: he seemed 
 very much discouraged, and with tears in his eyes,he bade 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 117 
 
 me adieu, with little expectation of ever seeing me again 
 in this world. I will leave my readers to judge of my 
 feelings. Stephen Nichols, a lad about my age, was the 
 only person I could find of our crew, and his circum 
 stances were much like my own. He had been sick, 
 and was at that time quite poorly, and low spirited. He 
 informed me of the fate of Mr. Daniel Davis, our gun 
 ner; his feet, and legs had been frozen; and finally, he 
 was no more. 
 
 Nichols and myself were quite attached to each other. 
 He was the son of Capt. Samuel Nichols, who was a 
 brother to Capt. Ichabod, the owner of the Scorpion. 
 We stalked about the decks together, lamenting our for 
 lorn condition. In a few days there came orders to re 
 move all the prisoners from the Jersey, on board of 
 transports, in order to cleanse the ship. We were all 
 removed, and directly there came on a heavy storm. 
 The ship on which I went on board, was exceedingly 
 crowded, so that there was not room for each man to lay 
 down under deck, and the passing and repassing by day, 
 had made the lower deck entirely wet. Our condition 
 was absolutely distressing. After a few days we were 
 all put on board the Jersey again. A large number had 
 taken violent colds, myself among the rest. The hos 
 pital ships were soon crowded; and even the Jersey her 
 self shortly became about as much of a hospital ship as 
 the others. 
 
 In a day or two after my return to the Jersey, I was 
 sent off again on board an hospital ship; (her name I 
 have forgotten,) and on descending the main hatchway, 
 the first person I noticed was my uncle Weymouth. We 
 were in some sense rejoiced in meeting each other once 
 more. We could indeed sympathize with each other in 
 some degree, but our situation seemed very precarious. 
 My uncle was very low spirited, but he was favored with 
 his reason; and it pleased God to continue my reason 
 while I remained on board this ship. In the space of a 
 week, my uncle began slowly to amend : he had a most 
 excellent head of hair, but it had become so entangled, 
 that he despaired of clearing it, and gave it to a nurse 
 for cutting it off. 
 
118 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 While on board this ship, I had some trying scenes to 
 pass through. A man who lay next me had been a 
 nurse, but was taken sick, and had had his feet, and even 
 his legs, frozen. I had several times seen them dres 
 sed: at length, while they were dressing his feet, I 
 saw the toes and bottom of his feet cleave off from 
 the bone, and hang down by the heel. 
 
 On board this ship, I found John and Abraham 
 Fall, who were brothers. John was about twenty-three, 
 and had a wife; Abraham was about sixteen; they 
 were both of the Scorpion s crew, and were very sick. 
 They laid at some distance from me; I could not go to 
 see them, nor could they come to see me ; they laid 
 together. 
 
 One night Abraham made a great outcry against John, 
 requesting him to get off from him. Some of the men 
 who were near, swore hard at John, for thus laying on 
 his brother. John made no reply: when the morning 
 came, John was found dead, and Abraham but just alive; 
 I believe he died the same day. Finally, there were 
 but five out of thirteen of our crew who returned. The 
 remainder left their bones there. I believe that a much 
 larger proportion of some other crews died than of ours. 
 For more than twenty years past, I have not known any 
 person but myself, to be living, who sailed in the Scor 
 pion, except Mr. John Stone, of Limington, county of 
 York, Maine; and whether he is now living or not I can 
 not say. While I was confined with my uncle on board 
 the second hospital ship, we had intelligence of peace. 
 This intelligence would have been joyful to us if we had 
 been able to leave this dreadful place. 
 
 I have the impression that a considerable number of 
 the prisoners were released from the Jersey some week* 
 before, but on what terms I cannot say. ft was exceed 
 ingly trying to our feelings to see our shipmates daily 
 leaving us, until our ship was almost deserted. We 
 were however convalescent, but we gained exceeding 
 slowly. There was a small schooner sent from Rhode- 
 Island, as a private cartel, for the especial purpose of 
 taking home some who belonged to that place, and the 
 commander of our hospital ship had the humanity to use 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 119 
 
 his influence with the master of the cartel to take us on 
 board, and to our unspeakable joy he consented. I 
 think there were but seven or eight left on board the 
 hospital ship when we left it, and I think the most of 
 them were convalescent. On our departure we had to 
 sign some kind of an instrument with a promise to report 
 ourselves at the Commissary s office in Rhode-Island. 
 We willingly bade adieu to the old Jersey and her hos 
 pital ships. For that time of the year we had a favorable 
 passage down the sound to Rhode-Island. In the morn 
 ing, before sunrise, we very gladly set our feet once 
 more upon the land of liberty. We walked up to the 
 Commissary s office and according to promise gave in our 
 names as prisoners from the Jersey. 
 
 I must here beg the indulgence of narrating a circum 
 stance which occurred on the morning of our landing at 
 Rhode-Island. However trifling it may appear to oth 
 ers, it has left an indelible impression on my mind. As 
 we were passing by a bake house, we saw a fine heap of 
 fresh coals just drawn from the oven. We being quite 
 chilled, went in to warm ourselves; we had not had the 
 indulgence of such a favor the whole winter. While 
 warming ourselves, the baker came running down stairs 
 in haste, but noticing two such odd figures, he halted a 
 while on the stairs. He approached us slowly, inquir 
 ed whether we were from the prison ship, we answered 
 in the affirmative. Really," said he " you look as if 
 you want some friend; are you not hungry ? come go with 
 me," He led us up stairs where his family resided. 
 I found myself so weak, that it was with difficulty I 
 could ascend the stairs. I was obliged to reach forward 
 and support myself by putting my hands on the steps 
 like a child. Having entered the room we discovered a 
 beautiful young lady with a young child upon her lap. 
 The room was furnished in decent style, the floor car 
 peted, brass andirons, handsome furniture, and a nice 
 looking young woman as an attendant. " My dear," 
 said the gentleman, " can t you give these men some 
 breakfast? they have come from the prison-ship." " O 
 yes," said the lady, with a very sympathetic and mod 
 est air. and immediately gave directions to the girl to 
 
120 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 make ready. The contrast was great between our pres 
 ent situation and our former abode, and between our 
 apparel and theirs. " Come, sit down, sit down," said 
 the gentleman, " and make yourselves as comfortable 
 as you can; you must have had a hard time of it; you 
 have been sick, but you have now got among your 
 friends again." My conscience almost forbade my com 
 plying with his very friendly invitation. I therefore re 
 plied, " Sir, we are not fit to be where clean people are." 
 " O never mind that," said the gentleman, " sit down, 
 sit down." "But to tell you the truth, Sir, we are lousy!" 
 " O well," said he, " if you should drop a few of them, 
 we shall not be so bad off as* you are; sit down, sit 
 down." 
 
 The very modest and friendly deportment of this charm 
 ing lady, deeply affected me, and I could not prevent 
 the tears flowing freely from my eyes; for instead of 
 shewing a haughty, disdainful temper, which some would 
 on a husband s introducing a couple of dirty, lousy fel 
 lows, her deportment was the most amiable ; and indeed 
 if I had not seen the tears in her eye,s I do not know 
 that I should have shed any myseif. 
 
 I scarcely know of any one circumstance of my life 
 that has more frequently occurred to my mind than this. 
 I have often, very often, said within, " a thousand bless 
 ings onthee rest." 
 
 That babe, if living, must now be more than forty-four 
 years old. I very much regret that I do not know the 
 name; I have never been on Rhode-Island since, but I 
 believe if I were in that street again, I could point out 
 the house. Our breakfast consisted of chocolate, ham, 
 eggs, and warm bread directly from the oven. It was a 
 consolation, that we had no other company at the table, 
 for if there had been, it must have been offensive to 
 them and mortifying to us. 
 
 For months we had not had one comfortable meal; our 
 appetites were sufficiently keen, and we were now in 
 danger of eating too much. 
 
 My uncle supposing that I had eaten as much as was 
 prudent for me to eat at that time, gave me a jog as a 
 hint for me to forbear. I perfectly understood him, but 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 121 
 
 as he continued eatmg^ himself, I had the politeness to 
 bear him company; and when he left off, I quit also. 
 We could but say to our host and hostess, " we are quite 
 obliged to you;" without in the least doubting but that 
 we were as welcome as we were thankful. 
 
 Our next object was to get up to Providence. We 
 were moneyless, but the master of the packet boat 
 agreed to take our hammocks, which we had packed up 
 and brought from the hospital-ship with us. It was 
 nearly night when we arrived at Providence. We had 
 each of us a dirty blanket, on which we depended for 
 our bedding, as we should go through the country, for 
 we did not indulge the thought of sleeping in a bed, in 
 our condition. We had a few articles of clothing and 
 having rolled up our blankets for packs, and strung 
 them to our backs, we stepped on shore. We had now 
 about a hundred miles to travel before we could get 
 home. We stalked up the street, in Providence, que 
 rying where we should find a lodging. We could not 
 but exult in the thought that we had once more set our 
 feet upon the land of liberty, beyond the reach of British 
 oppression. 
 
 W r e had not walked twenty rods from the wharf, when 
 passing a druggist s shop, the gentleman standing in the 
 door hailed us. " Where are you from, friends, from 
 iS ew-York?" " Yes, Sir." " Don t you want some re 
 freshment? stop in at that gate and go into the house." 
 We went into the kitchen, and the gentleman met us 
 with a bottle and a glass in his hand, gave us a cordial, 
 and ordered some victuals on the table, and requested us 
 to eat. Having refreshed ourselves, we thanked our 
 benefactor, and went on our journey. 
 
 We had gone but a few rods, when a gentleman met 
 my uncle, who was a few rods forward of me, and view 
 ed him very closely; and after passing him looked round 
 upon him; he then cast his eye upon me and looked 
 steadily until he passed me and looked back upon 
 me also. He having passed me several rods, he turned 
 quickly and followed me, and put a dollar into my hand, 
 saying, "You are from New- York, I suppose here, di 
 vide this between you." He turned again in haste and 
 11 
 
122 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 left me; he would hardly hear me say, u I thank you." 
 I thought lie seemed half inclined to give something to 
 my uncle when he met him, as he had his hands in his 
 small clothes pockets, and he seemed much inclined to 
 bestow something on me when he passed me. 
 
 I verily thought that there was a contest in his bosom 
 between charity and covetousness, and at length charity 
 prevailed. This I also considered as an interposition of 
 Divine Providence. 
 
 We walked perhaps half a mile, the sun was near set 
 ting, we thought it time to try for a lodging: we calcu 
 lated only to lie upon the floor, by the h re. I called at 
 a door and knocked: a young woman came to the door, 
 looking quite astonished. I asked her whether we 
 could be permitted to lay by their fire that night ? She 
 gave me no answer, but exclaimed, "Mother, I really 
 believe these men came from the same place where 
 Jack Robinson did." The old lady came rushing into 
 the entry, followed by one or two more well grown girls, 
 and began rapidly to question us. Alter answering a 
 few of her questions, I began to urge some of my own; 
 and in the first place was inquisitive to know where this 
 Jack Robinson lived; for as soon as the girl mentioned 
 his name, I recollected that there was a lad of that name 
 (if I am not mistaken in the name) came down in the 
 cartel. Though we had no acquaintance with him, I 
 had the impresion that if we could find him, we should 
 be sure of a good harbor for that night. They pointed 
 us to the house, it was but a few rods distant. We al 
 most broke away from the good woman and her girls, 
 and called at old Mr. Robinson s shop door. He was 
 a hatter. The good man came to the door himself, and 
 as soon as we enquired if Jack Robinson lived there, 
 the old gentleman exclaimed, " God bless you ! why 
 here is some more of them why he is my dear son; 
 come in, come in. Why Jack has just got home; we 
 thought he was dead; we heard he was dead; we never 
 expected to see him again. Come in, you dear souls, 
 come in." He was a little old gentleman, and wore a 
 small black wig; the tears ran freely down his cheek. 
 His heart and his house were open to receive us; his 
 wife and daughters were equally friendly. Jack was as 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 123 
 
 lively as a bird, for he had not been sick. By this time 
 the sun was down, and we were sufficiently tired to He 
 down. 
 
 It was now a question how and where we should 
 lodge. The old man was for having us get into bed. 
 We refused, and requested that the carpet should be ta 
 ken away, and that we might lie down before the fire 
 with our blankets. " O no," said Mr. R. " you must 
 go to bed." "Why, dear Sir, we are lousy." "O 
 well, so was Jack; we have all his clothes out in the 
 garden; I don t know that he will ever wear them 
 again." " Just let us lie on the floor, by your fire, and 
 it will be a more comfortable lodging than we have had 
 since last fall." (It was now the last of March.) The 
 old gentleman consented, but he would not agree that 
 the carpet should be removed. In the morning after 
 breakfast we took our leave of the good man and his 
 happy family. 
 
 The next day I believe we did not get on more than 
 three or four miles, and one day we got on but about one 
 mile. The weather was cold and we very sensibly felt 
 the consequences of eating too freely. I recollect that 
 we called at Dr. Man s tavern, and his sons gave us 
 some money. 
 
 Within about ten miles of Providence, we called at a 
 large red house, on the left hand side of the road. We 
 wished to know whether we could stay over night, and 
 found that we could, but that we must expect to pay for 
 our entertainment. It just now occurs to rny mind, 
 that we had been inquiring where we could get some 
 horses to take us along, for we made such slow pro 
 gress that we were quite discouraged. We found that 
 we could get horses at this place. The old gentleman 
 was a wealthy farmer, he had two sons who were bach 
 elors; they were not very bright men, but I think they 
 were exceedingly fond of money. I believe there were 
 one or two maiden ladies in the family, and I perfectly 
 recollect there was a family of negroes. 
 
 We were plain enough to tell them our situation; 
 we only wished to He by their kitchen fire. The land 
 lady furnished us with a frugal supper. She dealt out 
 
124 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 to us our portion much more sparingly than did the ba-> 
 ker, the apothecary or the hatter. In the course of the 
 evening we contracted with the old man and his son to 
 take us to a village, whether Walpole, AttJeborongh, or 
 Dedham, I cannot now say, but I think that the distance 
 was about twelve miles. 
 
 I had with me a new duck frock,, which was worth a 
 dollar or more; this, with the money which the young 
 men at Dr. Alan s gave us, would pay our fare at this 
 place, and our horse bill, &,c. 
 
 After the family had all retired except the negroes, the 
 old black woman began in a whisper to be very inquisi 
 tive to know whether the negroes were to have their 
 liberty. She had some such intimations arid hoped that 
 that would be the case. 
 
 She had a family of children, some of them pretty well 
 grown; she told how faithfully she had served her " mas- 
 ser and missey, and how deblish covetous they were. 
 They would starve de poor negro; that old masser and 
 young massers had money enough and were afraid to 
 layout a copper; that de poor negro had to steal de bit- 
 ties, or else dey would starve." The old woman had 
 granted herself the liberty to procure and lay aside 
 some provisions for herself and children s supper. .Af 
 ter the family were asleep, she got some supper and 
 made us welcome to take some with her, and we were 
 very willing to accept her oifer. 
 
 In the morning we mounted our horses and pursued 
 our journey. I rode a small gentle beast, but I could 
 not bear that it should go out of a walk. An old bach 
 elor went on with us to take the horses back. We went 
 quite slowly, and the old fellow was anxious to hurry us 
 a little, in order that he might return in season. We 
 were obliged frequently to dismount. 
 
 In the course of the day he gave my horse a clap and 
 started it on a trot. It seemed as if it would take my 
 life away; in a moment I doubled down upon the sad 
 dle, caught hold of the reins under the neck and check 
 ed the horse as soon as possible. 
 
 As soon as I recovered my breath, I assailed the old 
 fellow with such a volley of hard words in seaman s dia- 
 
ANDREW SIIERBURNE. 125 
 
 lect, that he turned pale. He no more attempted to 
 drive my horse. When we arrived at the village it was 
 late in the afternoon. There was a town meeting there 
 that day, and of course there were many there who did 
 not live" on the great road, and were not accustomed to 
 see such objects pass their doors. I saw none that ap 
 peared to be intoxicated, but a number, and indeed most 
 of them appeared to be a little merry, nor would it be 
 much wondered at, for this I presume was the first town- 
 meeting they had had since the joyful news of peace. 
 Here were many old men, who for the last seven years 
 had assembled in town-meetings, when dark clouds 
 were brooding over the nation. 
 
 They formed a circle round us and were inquisitive to 
 know how we had fared, &c. We answered them while 
 the bov-4 was going round, but not at our expense, for 
 we were very cautious about drinking, and if we had 
 been more so about eating, it would doubtless have been 
 in our favor. At length an old patriot made a motion 
 that a little contribution should be made to assist us on 
 our way home. A handful of silver change to the amount 
 of two or three dollars was collected, 1 and the londlord 
 on his part, would give us our supper and lodging in his 
 bar-room, &c. 
 
 I well recollect one circumstance that occurred before 
 we got to Boston. I think that it was in Roxbury, we 
 called at an elegant house to warm and rest ourselves a 
 little; the good lady came into the kitchen richly dressed: 
 (she had company from Boston to dine with her that day) 
 "Bless me!" said she, "why where did these poor crea 
 tures come from? why you must be in a suffering condi 
 tion; don t you want something to take? do get some 
 wine for them, get me some eggs, let them take an egg 
 with a little wine, it will be comforting to their stomachs. 
 They must have some victuals to eat; girls, do set the 
 table. 7 My uncle had had a violent pain in one of his 
 eyes, and lost the sight of it for a while. This good wo 
 man pitied him very much on that account; prescribed for 
 him, and had it bound up. Her table was bountifully 
 furnished with roast turkey, fyc. 
 
 We had many good wishes bestowed on us by this 
 11* 
 
126 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 friendly lady; and went on our journey. Whe we got 
 to Boston we called on Mr. Drown and received every 
 attention wo could wish. I should say that he was not 
 in affluent circumstances, he had suffered in his estate 
 by the British while they held Boston. He was between 
 seventy and eighty years of age, and a high whig. The 
 old gentleman said he was born fifty years too soon to see 
 the glory of America. He did not suffer us to depart 
 moneyless. I believe he called upon some of his friends 
 to assist, and furnished money sufficient to bear our ex 
 penses home, and we had yet most of the mone) that was 
 given us at the town-meeting. 
 
 We hired horses to take us on by short stages, and 
 when we got to Hampton falls, I had to- part with my un 
 cle. I had then about fifteen miles to journey, and he 
 about twenty, to take him to Epping. My brother Sam 
 uel, (who was twenty months younger than myself) hear 
 ing that I was on the road, met me some miles from 
 home and I was supplied with a horse, but I could not 
 bear that a horse should go out of a walk. 
 
 Thus it pleased God once more to return me to an af 
 flicted mother. She wept most bitterly to see her poor 
 emaciated son. She was yet a mourner for Thomas, 
 her first born. My dear sisters were all affection. 
 
 My brother Samuel took me into another room to di 
 vest me of my filthy garments, wash and dress me. He 
 having taken off my clothes and seen my bones project 
 ing here and there, he was so astonished that his strength 
 left him. He sat down on the point of fainting, and 
 could render me no further service. I was able to wash 
 myself and put on my clothes. Having indulged my 
 friends with a little conversation, I must retire to bed, 
 and I believe I did not set up again an hour at a time for 
 twenty days. The next day Dr. Ammi R. Cutter was 
 sent for, who paid every attention to- me in his power. 
 
 I have before mentioned this philanthropist. It is sur 
 prising how I could have performed such a journey un 
 der such circumstances; not having strength to raise my 
 self over a door step, without a cane or supporting my 
 self in some other way; constantly afflicted with a severe 
 diarrhoea; and soon as relieved from such toil, cleansed 
 
ANDREW SHERBURXE. 127 
 
 and put into a good bed, that I should so relapse. I was 
 also extremely peevish. As soon as Mrs. Fall, (whose 
 sons, John and Abraham, died on board the hospital 
 ships,) heard of my arrival, she called on Miss Jane 
 Muchamore, (who afterwards became my wife,) to ac 
 company her, and called to see me. I was very unwell. 
 She enquired very particularly about them; and I told 
 her every particular which prudence allowed. The poor 
 woman was in an agony. She almost fainted. She was 
 a widow; I think that her husband died about the time 
 that my lather did. My mother and all present sympa 
 thized with her; she seemed almost bereft of her reason. 
 She queried whether it could -be possible they were both 
 dead; and asked me many questions over and over again; 
 at length I made some petulant reply and this very much 
 distressed me; I could hardly forgive myself in a long 
 time. The poor woman made several attempts to with 
 draw, but it seemed as if she could not leave me. As 
 the spring advanced, I began to amend, but very slowly. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Sails in the Sloop Randolph for tlic West- Indies Short 
 of provisions Arrives at Portsmouth Trip to Do 
 ver Sails in the ship Lydia, Cftpt. R. S. Tiblits., 
 who was his 1vtor in Mill Prison Sails to Wilming 
 ton, N. C. Escape from an Algerine galley Lisbon 
 St. Ubcs Gales of wind Short allowance Try 
 ing time, on the coast Arrives at Portsmouth. 
 
 THE war being now ended, there were more seamen 
 than the merchants had occasion to employ ; and of course 
 seamen s wages were very low. For a while I turned 
 my attention to fishing; my strength was not sufficiently 
 restored to attempt to take hold on farming; and indeed 
 there were but few farmers able to hire. 
 
 I had proposed to doctor Cutter, to do some work for 
 
128 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 him, as I had no other way of paying his bill. I went to 
 work for the doctor; he had some gardening and some 
 farming to do. I continued seven or eight months in his 
 service; he paid me my wages, arid would never take 
 any thing for doctoring rne. 
 
 In the spring of 1785 I went a voyage to the West-In 
 dies, on board the sloop Randolph, commanded by Capt. 
 Samuel Gardiner; the vessel was owned by his brother, 
 William Gardiner, Esq. We had a very long passage 
 of more than sixty days. We discharged our cargo at 
 Trinidad. On our return we touched at Barbadoes and 
 at St. Eustatia, to purchase provisions, for our passage out 
 was so much longer than usual, that we had exhausted 
 our provisions. They being very high, the Captain put to 
 sea from St. Eustatia with a scanty supply, and before we 
 got in we came to very short allowance. 
 
 In coming on the coast in November, we had several 
 heavy storms, and being rather weak handed, we were 
 much exposed, and in several instances I narrowly escap 
 ed being hove overboard. This sloop was about one 
 hundred tons and was very unhandy to work; there were 
 but four hands before the mast. We arrived at Ports 
 mouth some time in November, having been more than 
 two weeks upon very short allowance. 
 
 I purposed not to go to sea again that winter, but to 
 allow myself some little pastime in visiting my friends. 
 Soon after my return, I made a visit to Newington, (which 
 adjoined Portsmouth) to spend a little time with my un 
 cle Furber, who married my father s sister. He was an 
 independent farmer, a very humorous man, was pleased 
 with my company, and was highly entertained in hearing 
 me tell over my adventures, &c. His only son Jethro, 
 was about my age, his eldest daughter Phebe, had re 
 cently married a Mr. Woodman Coleman, of Dover. 
 Mary was about to accompany me on a visit to Mr. Cole- 
 man s and invited Mrs. Hannah Nutter to accompany us. 
 We walked to Fox point, which is a half a mile above 
 the celebrated Piscataqua bridge, (this bridge, however,. 
 was not built until some years after) with a design to 
 procure a canoe: I obtained one about twelve feet long 
 and we set off. The river being more than a half a mile 
 
ANDREW SHERBURXE.I 129 
 
 O 
 
 across at the place just below where 
 forms a junction with Durham river. We* had got one 
 third of the way over, when I discovered a heavy snow 
 squall coming down the Durham river, and a small 
 schooner coming down in it, scudding under the head of 
 her foresail. I saw but little chance for us; I did not 
 apprise the girls of our danger, but I paddled with all 
 my strength so as to get in the wake or range of Goat 
 Island, which lay near the middle of the river, over 
 which, the aforesaid bridge now lies. We were a quar 
 ter of a mile above this island when the squall struck us. 
 I was careful to put away in season, and was very glad 
 to find that by my exertions, I had brought the island 
 dead to leeward. 
 
 After I had put away for the Island, I never lifted 
 my paddle out of the water; but with the utmost caution 
 steered my little ship until she had struck. We had 
 shipped considerable water, and had the distance been 
 greater, we must have sunk. The weather was pleasant 
 when we set off from the shore, nor was there any ap 
 pearance of a squall. 
 
 The ground was now covered with snow, and we were 
 all wet and cold: but there happened to be one small 
 house upon the island, and we were kindly received, 
 and having warmed ourselves, the weather became 
 pleasant, we pursued our voyage and had a pleasant 
 time. We very narrowly escaped with our lives; those 
 who saw us from the shore had no hope of us, and the 
 schooner that passed us, could have alforded us no re 
 lief. I am filled with astonishment, when 1 consider 
 how many dangers the Lord has brought me through. 
 
 I spent a considerable part of this winter with my coue- 
 in, Jethro Furber, in company with Mr. John Coleman, 
 studying navigation, and the art of surveying. 
 
 In the spring, I shipped on board the ship Lydia, com 
 manded by my old friend, Capt. R. S. Tibbits, bound to 
 North- Carolina, then to Lisbon. Mr. G. Horn was first 
 mate, and Mr. John Brear second mate. We went to 
 Wilmington, N. C. and took on board a cargo of planks, 
 staves, pitch, tar and turpentine. In Wilmington, I was 
 quite unwell for a time, but on going to &ea, I recovered. 
 
130 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Nothing uncommon occurred, until we made the land 
 on the coast of Portugal. We stood along the coast un 
 der easy sail; it being towards night, we did not wish to 
 approach very near the land. The weather was very 
 pleasant and the wind light. 
 
 The Algerines at this time were committing depreda 
 tions on our commerce. It was but little before this, 
 that Capt. O Brien had been taken, who, with his crew, 
 were in slavery among them a number of years. We 
 were in some fear of them, and kept a bright look out. 
 I had gone below at twelve o clock and turned in, but 
 was not yet asleep. I thought I heard the distant sound 
 of a human voice; the Captain was on deck, and busy 
 iu talking. I heard the sound again, and began to feel 
 alarmed, and was turning out, but discovered that they 
 heard the sound on deck, and were listening, and looking 
 out. The sound neared us fast; all hands were imme 
 diately on deck; there was now no question but the 
 sound was from an Algerine galley, which was by this 
 time within fifty yards of us. She nailed in several dif 
 ferent languages, and Capt. Tibbits having the helm, 
 (there being a plenty of work for every one else,) gave 
 them indirect answers. Never were people more alarm 
 ed than we were now. Never did a crew make sail 
 quicker: we set our topgallant-sails, hauled our wind a 
 little, and got out our studding-sails, <^*c. and by this time 
 our pursuer was within twenty yards of us. She feigned 
 herself in distress, and designed thereby to decoy us. 
 She had laid under the land, without having any sail set, 
 and by that means could not be discovered by us before 
 night; while at the same time she could very plainly dis 
 cover us, and having ascertained how we were standing, 
 shaped her course to run athwart our fore foot, (as the 
 sailor would say;) but she being to leeward, was obliged 
 to depend upon her oars. She had designed, no doubt, 
 to have boarded us, but when she saw that we were 
 likely to shoot by her, endeavored to decoy us. 
 
 She did not show a rag of sail until she had complete 
 ly gained our wake, and then began a chase with a full 
 press of sail. But our ship being an excellent sailer, 
 we soon began to leave her. And thus, by the mercy of 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 131 
 
 God, we escaped capture and slavery. She chased us 
 but a very little while, and finding she was no match for 
 us in sailing, gave up the chase, took in her sails, and we 
 soon lost sight of her. The next day we got into Lis 
 bon, and reported the circumstances of this chase. 
 There immediately went out a government brig in pur 
 suit of her, but I did not not understand that she ever 
 found her. 
 
 We had now got to Lisbon, the capital of a kingdom, 
 where there are many interesting things to be seen. Had 
 I the ingenuity of Carter, and possessed his powers of 
 description, I could write a few pleasant pages in a des 
 cription of Lisbon: but this T must leave to abler hands, 
 and barely notice a few particulars, which to myself were 
 somewhat interesting. I had heard of the destruction 
 in Lisbon by earthquakes. Our ship lay near a large 
 castle, surrounded by water. It was said to have been 
 sunken; and in our boat we frequently passed over those 
 places which were said to have been sunken. With 
 peculiar solemnity, I noticed some places on shore, where 
 there were evidently the tokens of that calamity. 
 
 The market square excited my curiosity. It was as 
 tonishing to see the vast quantity of fruit: hundreds of 
 wagon loads were piled here and there: grapes of differ 
 ent kinds, were abundant; as well as figs, oranges and 
 lemons. I have seen companies of hundreds of females 
 at once, riding on jacks, with large hampers slung on 
 each side, filled with fruit, going to the market. It was 
 equally curious to walk in the fish market, and sec the 
 great variety and abundance of fish. The fishermen, I 
 believe, generally had their families in their boats; and 
 I question whether they had any ether habitation. In 
 their boats, they had a small tub, with some gravel in it; 
 and a small iron grate, in which they placed their coal 
 for fire, and cooked their fish in earthen pots. When 
 they came from selling their fish in the market, they 
 would bring large water melons under their arms. These 
 melons they used for bread, and ate them with their 
 stewed fish. I perceived that they also made free use 
 of raw onions; but I did not see them have any bread, 
 or any other vegetable at their meals. Many of these 
 
J32 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 onions were very large: some of them as large in cir 
 cumference as a common saucer, and not more than an 
 inch and a half thick. They were very mild, inucli more 
 so than any I ever ate in America. 
 
 I was very much surprised, when, with some of my 
 shipmates, I entered a street which was called Rag Fair. 
 The shops were altogether clothing shops, and occupied 
 by Jews. The moment one enters this street, his atten 
 tion is arrested by the vociferations of the seed of Israel, 
 standing in their shop doors on either side of the street, 
 beckoning to you, See. with almost all kinds of gestures; 
 endeavoring to win your attention, and get you into their 
 shops. As you approach the door of one, you are sur 
 rounded by half a dozen of his neighbors, using their 
 endeavors to get you into their shops. He who succeeds, 
 is exceedingly accommodating. You are shown articles 
 in abundance, and this and the other is shown you, and 
 urged upon you, and cheapened again and again, and it 
 is almost impossible to get away without buying some 
 thing: and on your leaving that shop, you are met at the 
 door by several others, who use all their endeavors, pul 
 ling you by the clothes, to get you into their shops; and 
 you feel happy to escape their importunities, and get in 
 to the street again. We several times passed this street, 
 for no other purpose than co see those antic fellows dis 
 play their talents. 
 
 One evening, about sunset, as I was going on board 
 the ship, I saw perhaps fifty men carrying a large cable 
 upon their shoulders; and when a certain bell began to 
 ring, a considerable number of the men left their burden 
 to others, and for the space of a minute attended to their 
 devotions, crossing themselves, telling their beads, &c. 
 I could but notice how patiently the others stood under 
 their burden, until the worshippers returned. 
 
 The streets in general were very narrow, but there 
 was here and there a kind of open square, and at one of 
 the largest in the city, at a certain corner, the Blessed 
 Virgin, in wax, as large as life, was placed about ten 
 feet from the ground, inclosed in glass, with the infant 
 Savior in her arms. 
 
 All the Portuguese, whether gentle or simple, when 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 133 
 
 they passed by on the side where the image was, were 
 careful to take off their hats. I carefully avoided pass 
 ing near her. At one time I observed a funeral proces 
 sion behind me, and having the curiosity to examine it, 
 I stepped into a shoemaker s shop; but before I was a- 
 warc, there was a fellow fumbling about my head, with 
 a long pole; he nearly uncapt me, and would have suc 
 ceeded had I not put my hand to my head and held it on, 
 This circumstance only caused him to be more resolute; 
 and he gave me some pretty hard thumps on my head. 
 The man of the shop gave me the hint to take off my hat, 
 which I immediately did, and the fellow desisted thump 
 ing my head. I ascertained that it gave them great of 
 fence if one had his head covered in presence of their sa 
 cred images and pictures which preceded a funeral pro 
 cession. I shall narrate one circumstance more and 
 finish with Lisbon. I being on the square near the mar 
 ket, noticed a collection of people. I had the curiosity to 
 see what it meant. I drew near and observed a dead 
 corpse lying on a bier, with a bald headed friar standing 
 at the head, in a very grave and apparently solemn tone, 
 repeating over and over again a long sentence in an un 
 known tongue. 
 
 There was a large earthqn basin on the stomach of the 
 corpse, which was a female. Her bosom was bare, and 
 just above the left breast there had been a very deep 
 wound inflicted with a large knife. It was more than 
 two inches in length and near the same in width. It was 
 a mortal thrust. The priest and Portuguese who stood 
 round about, looked sad. I saw that one and another 
 would drop a little change into the basin, which contain 
 ed probably two or three dollars. The priest appeared 
 to me to be soliciting the people to give. 
 
 These affairs wanted some explanation, and it was 
 natural that we should inquire what all this meant. We 
 were informed that it was the husband of this woman 
 who had committed this horrid act; that he suspected his 
 wife s chastity; and it seems he had some ca\ se. As 
 she was walking in the evening with another man, he 
 followed them undiscovered, and as he passed by on the 
 left hand of his wife, with a large knife." which was con- 
 12 
 
134 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 cealed in the sleeve of his coat, he gave her the deadly 
 thrust. It was said the murderer fled to the church, arid 
 put his ringer into the key hole, which act protected him. 
 AVhether the money was to pay her funeral charges, or 
 to pay the priest for getting her soul out of purgatory, or 
 for any other purpose, 1 shall not undertake to say. 
 
 We took in a part of our cargo at Lisbon, and had to 
 go to St. Ubes for the remainder, and were with a num 
 ber of other vessels convoyed off the coast by a Portu 
 guese frigate. On our passage to America, we had sev 
 eral heavy gales of wind, and our ship being very heav 
 ily laden with salt, laboured exceedingly. As we 
 approached the coast, late in November, we had heavy 
 winds against us, and were several times driven back, 
 split our sails, got very short of provisions and fuel, ship 
 ped many heavy seas, our quarter boards were stove, 
 our caboose was carried overboard, and our long boat 
 several times knocked out of her chocks. 
 
 I had on board two boxes of chocolate, which I had 
 carried for an adventure; but the duties were so high in 
 Lisbon, that I could not sell it to any advantage. I found 
 a market for it on our passage home, and it seemed to be 
 the means of saving both the ship and our lives, for we 
 were reduced to less than a quarter allowance of provis 
 ion, and we used to have a pint of chocolate twice a day. 
 Our ship was so heavy laden that in bad weather we had 
 to pump, to keep her free. At one time in a heavy gale, 
 she leaked so much, we almost despaired of ever freeing 
 her, and were very fearful that in a few hours we should 
 all make our graves in the ocean; but God was gracious 
 ly pleased to preserve us, and bring us once more into 
 our much desired haven. 
 
 Shortly after our arrival, my uncle James Weymouth 
 made us a visit at Portsmouth. He had not been at sea 
 since our imprisonment on board the Jersey. He had 
 bought a lot of good new land in the plantation of Fran- 
 cisborough, (now the town of Cornish.) He was an un 
 commonly stout man; he had not been on board the Jer 
 sey so long as myself, by nearly two months, nor was his 
 constitution materially injured. 
 
 He had made rapid progress in clearing his farm, and 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 135 
 
 was one of the richest settlers in the place. He insisted 
 much on my making him a visit and spending the winter 
 with him. He thought my education quite sufficient to 
 keep a country school, he did not doubt but that he 
 could get one for me. I was rather reluctant in comply 
 ing with his request; but as he insisted that I must make 
 a visit at least, I promised I would come and see him in 
 the course of four or five weeks, but would not promise 
 any further. Heretofore I had been tolerably temperate 
 lor a sailor of those times. There had been few instan 
 ces in which I had been disguised with ardent spirits. 
 There were several young men in Portsmouth with whom 
 I was particularly intimate; and we had got into a habit 
 of drinking quite too much; although we did not get drunk. 
 This circumstance alarmed me, for I found it to be a 
 growing evil, and resolved on a reformation, but yet con 
 tinued the practice with the determination that this should 
 be the last time. But while continuing to associate with 
 those comrades, it was very difficult to forbear. It is too 
 often the case among sailors, that when one proposes 
 a reformation, he is ridiculed and combatted by his ship 
 mates, and they use greater exertions to increase his cor 
 ruptions than they would have done had he made no pro 
 posal for a reformation. 
 
 It seemed to be a gracious providence in my favor, 
 that at this time, I should leave Portsmouth for the coun 
 try. Cornish lies in the state of Maine, (then district of 
 Maine) on the west side of Saco river, in the county of 
 York, about thirty miles from the sea, and fifty-five miles 
 from Portsmouth. 
 
136 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Goes into the country by the solicitations of his Uncle 
 Embraces Universalism Reproved for using prof ariK 
 language Reformation in Cornish Religious im 
 pressions Reads the New Testament The preach- 
 i n f Duct- Hezckiah Smith Becomes more anx 
 ious Mr. Thomas Lord, an old shipmate Goes 
 to New-York to settle his naval account Visits 
 Limerick Entertains a hope in Christ. 
 
 I set out for Cornish probably after the middle of Jan 
 uary, 171)6. I was resolved to drink no ardent spirits, 
 1 or I was not a little troubled that I had made so free 
 with it. I had heretofore stood high in the estimation 
 of my acquaintance, and had been much applauded for 
 the attention I had paid to my mother and her family, 
 and was not a little pleased at having a good name. 
 
 I was not so much perplexed about the concerns of 
 my soul as I had been when in the storms at sea, in sick 
 ness, &c. for I had endeavored to persuade mysell that 
 all men would eventually be saved; and ventured to de 
 clare myself an Universalist; yet I had never attempted 
 to examine into that system, nor indeed had I attempted 
 to investigate any other. From my own folly and igno 
 rance, I now think I can understand the want of caution 
 in others, who in so many instances, like myself, have 
 become sticklers for this or the other system, which they 
 have never seriously, carefully and prayerfully investi 
 gated. I arrived at my uncle s on the morning of the 
 third day after I left Portsmouth. He was very glad 
 that he had succeeded in getting me into the country, and 
 was determined to keep me there if he could, although 
 he had not yet disclosed to me his purpose. I found 
 him keeping bachelor s hall, in a decent log cabin; 
 he cooked for himself, but got his washing done by some 
 of his neighbors. At cooking I was probably his supe 
 rior, having had much more experience in that business 
 while I was a waiter to officers. 
 
 I had but a small school, principally of young men. 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNEV 137 
 
 nnd the principal branch which I taught was arithmetic, 
 in which I was tolerably well versed. My uncle had a 
 large team of oxen, a cow or two, and a number of young 
 cattle. I had made my calculation to return to Ports 
 mouth in the spring, and go to sea again. My uncle re 
 monstrated against the measure; seamen s wages were 
 low at that time. Probably our treaties of commerce 
 were not sufficiently digested, to satisfy the merchant as 
 to the measures which he should pursue. Our country 
 was just emerging from the state of confusion which was 
 occasioned by the war. The present constitution was 
 not then adopted, and our principal capitalists were cau 
 tious about risking their property in navigation. 
 
 Those merchants who were concerned in navigation,, 
 rarely made suitable provision for their vessels. The 
 two last voyages I had been, we suffered extremely for 
 provisions. The vessels and our lives were much in 
 danger, in consequence of those vessels not being well 
 found. But it is well known that the yankees will run 
 great risks, and that common seamen are generally too 
 inconsiderate, and there were more of this class at that 
 day than the merchants could employ. These subjects, 
 however, were not taken into view by me at that time. 
 Tt seemed to me that I must plod along in the way to 
 which I was most habituated. 
 
 My uncle observed to me that no man was more to be 
 pitied or more despicable than an old worn-out sailor. 
 He argued that my constitution was much impaired al 
 ready, that I could not stand it long to follow the sea, 
 and insisted that I should continue with him. He knew 
 that I could not do half of a land-man s labor, but he 
 offered to give me full wages, and even as much as I 
 could get at sea. Eventually I concluded to continue 
 with him that season, but I did not relinquish the idea 
 of going to sea again. 
 
 In the month of March, Mr. Simon Johnson, whose 
 wife was my uncle Weyrnouth s sister, moved from Ep- 
 ping, in New-Hampshire, into my uncle s house with 
 us, and in April, rny brother Samuel came from Ports 
 mouth; and hired with my uncle Weymouth. My bro 
 ther was twenty months younger than myself, and it was 
 
138 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 not a little mortifying to me, that he and every other 
 man should so much out do mo in work. 
 
 I had not suspected myself of being behind the stout 
 est of sailors. I had considerable strength, but I did 
 not know how to employ it in this new business, and 
 although the sailor is called to great exertions, those 
 exertions are generally but for short spells. My uncle 
 was aware of my infirmities, and frequently cautioned 
 me not to try so hard to do as others did; and would set 
 me about the easiest work. I had not yet relinquished 
 swearing, but -I found very few to join me in this pre 
 sumptuous practice. 
 
 One of my scholars, a young man about my age, was 
 considerably habituated to it. I was one day in com 
 pany with some old men, and inadvertantly made use of 
 some profane expressions. One asked me what autho 
 rity I had for using such expressions. I was speechless, 
 and exceedingly mortified; and perceiving that it hurt 
 their feelings, I was determined to forsake the pernic 
 ious practice. From that day I abandoned that vice 
 wilhout difficulty, but rather from a principle of polite 
 ness, than from a principle of piety. 
 
 Peter, a servant of Jesus Christ, required of his Chris 
 tian brethren, that they should always be ready to give 
 to any one who should ask them a reason of the hope 
 that was within them, with meekness and fear. 
 
 I have already, in a number of instances, spoken of 
 some of the impressions and exercises of my mind, on 
 the subject of religion, and the events of Divine Provi 
 dence, dependance on God, and the responsibility of 
 his rational creatures. I shall now, as briefly as ia 
 practicable, narrate some of the most peculiar interpo 
 sitions of Divine Providence, which excited in me an 
 anxious concern for the salvation of my soul. 
 
 In the spring of the year after I went to Cornish, I 
 heard my uncle say u there was an awakening among 
 the old professors, and that Mr. J. C s mind was in 
 trouble about preaching." This language was not fa 
 miliar to me, and I hesitated for a moment before I 
 could comprehend him. I do not know that I had ever 
 heard the term " professors" before, applied to a relig- 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 139 
 
 ious character: nor did I know that there had ever been 
 a person whose mind had been in trouble about preaching", 
 I felt rather disposed to trifle with the expressions; but 
 they nevertheless, occasioned me many reflections. I 
 observed that the heads of families in general were se 
 date, but did not know that there was a professor of re 
 ligion among them, nor did I hear any swearing. 
 
 I soon ascertained that they had meetings for prayer, 
 &c. but their meetings ?t first were not public. They 
 however soon became public, and preachers began to 
 come among them. 
 
 I was perfectly astonished when I first saw their 
 preachers. They were dressed in coarse country cloth, 
 nor did there appear any distinction between them and 
 the men in general. 
 
 I had never before, except once at Chichester, heard 
 any preaching, except from the pulpit, nor had I ever 
 seen a preacher without a black coat, cocked hat, and a 
 band; and frequently had not heard a sermon in several 
 years; and probably paid very little attention to what I 
 did hear. 1 was told that those people were Baptists, 
 but I had no idea of what a Baptist was, and was desir 
 ous to know wherein they differed from others. The 
 most I could ascertain was that they denied infant bap 
 tism, or sprinkling to be a gospel ordinance. 
 
 This rather disquieted me, for I had been sprinkled 
 in my infancy, and at times it afforded a kind of conso 
 lation to me. Not long after this I had some conversa 
 tion with an old gentleman who was a Baptist, and in 
 quired of him why it was that they should disapprove of 
 infant baptism? He told me that the gospel did not re 
 quire it. He said, moreover, that baptism was a gos 
 pel ordinance, but that immersion or dipping, was the 
 mode. The man seemed candid, but I did not feel so 
 myself. I felt rather indignant, and viewed the Bap 
 tists as a deceived and conceited people. I was by no 
 means equal in talking upon the scriptures with this old 
 gentleman, and therefore determined within myself that 
 I would carefully read the New Testament through, net 
 in the least doubting, but that I should find sufficient 
 proof in my favor; for I had never before this, had tho 
 
140 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 least intimation that there was any dispute about bap 
 tism. From this time I paid particular attention to the 
 New Testament. I began it, and read with unusual at 
 tention, with a design to prove infant baptism from the 
 scriptures. 
 
 It was my intention to notice with great care those 
 passages that spoke of infant baptism; and in the course 
 of my reading I paid particular attention to those texts 
 which are generally urged in support of infant sprinkling, 
 but I was very desirous to find something positive on the 
 subject, and having read the Testament through, and 
 taken a retrospective view of what I had read, I could 
 not satisfy my conscience that there was a single text in 
 its favor. I could not believe that infants were the sub 
 jects, or that anything short of immersion was the ac 
 tion or mode. 
 
 By the time I had read the New Testament through, 
 and even before, my mind was more particularly excited 
 about the everlasting welfare of my soul, than it had ev 
 er before been, except when I viewed myself in immi 
 nent danger. 
 
 I continued to read the scriptures with peculiar atten 
 tion; and instead of attending to the first rudiments of 
 the gospel of Jesus Christ, I undertook to define the 
 higher points or branches of doctrines. I found myself 
 involved in great perplexity. 
 
 The meetings became more and more frequent, and 
 individuals became anxiously concerned about their sal 
 vation, and were shortly set at liberty. 
 
 At almost every meeting some new cases of persons 
 under conviction, were made known, and at almost eve 
 ry meeting some were brought out. I was a strict ob 
 server of all that passed, and tried to persuade myself 
 that I was friendly to religion. 
 
 There were instances in which persons would cry out 
 in meeting, apparently in great distress; others would 
 audibly and with great rapidity express their joys, and 
 exhort others to repentance. I was exceedingly disgust 
 ed at those exercises; and in one instance had great diffi 
 culty in suppressing my resentment; I was on the point 
 of openly and violently remonstrating against such pro- 
 
ANDREW SHERBUIIX 
 
 ceedings. It was in the evening, an 
 drew, lest I should openly oppose. 
 
 I verily thought that the young man who cried out, 
 made all the noise that he could, and it seemed to me 
 altogether presumptuous in him. I thought he might 
 have refrained. An old gentleman seeing me leave the 
 meeting, suspected my case and followed me. He 
 found me leaning over the fence at a short distance from 
 the door, and very tenderly addressed me as follows: 
 
 " Andrew, I feel distressed!" " What is the matter, 
 Mr. Barnes?" said I. Said he, "I hope you won t be 
 offended, Andrew; I do not wish to hurt your feelings, 
 but I hope you will suffer me to be plain with you; I 
 was really afraid you were offended, which occasioned 
 you to go out." 
 
 " Mr. Barnes," said I, t( what occasion is there for 
 so much noise, does that fellow think that the Almighty 
 is deaf?" " O Andrew, " said he, " if you only knew 
 how that poor fellow feels, you would not talk so. I 
 have no douht but that he feels himself an undone crea 
 ture, hut I trust God will have mercy on him and on us 
 too." I concluded to stay until the meeting was closed; 
 hut my mind was much troubled because I indulged such 
 hardness against that young man. 
 
 I went home with a very heavy heart, and my mind 
 was much employed in contemplation. The preachers, 
 and professors, and young converts all insisted on the 
 necessity of conversion; this business all seemed as 
 mysterious to me as it I had never heard Mrs. Bell 
 speak on the subject. 
 
 The young man above mentioned, I believe, found 
 relief and comfort before the next meeting; he appeared 
 very happy, and freely spoke of the goodness of God. 
 
 I became seriously impressed with the importance cf 
 possessing a new heart. The number of converts was 
 increased almost every day. I attended their meetings 
 every sabbath and often at other times. The work spread 
 into the adjacent towns of Hiram, Baldwin and Liming- 
 ton, and converts multiplied. 
 
 I was much disquieted, and wondered why I was not 
 called among the rest; for I had fully acceded to the 
 
142 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 principle, that conversion was indispensably necessary 
 in order to happiness in eternity. 
 
 My faith in LJniversalism fled like the baseless fabric 
 of a vision. 
 
 " This solemn truth did yet remain, 
 The sinner must be born again, 
 Or down to ruin go." 
 
 I was alternately friendly and hostile to the work. I 
 sometimes resolved that I would go to meeting no more, 
 and perhaps the next meeting I heard of, 1 would attend. 
 I was looking and wishing to be converted; but I did not 
 wish to have any noise about it, nor did I wish to have 
 anv one know it but myself. 
 
 I was unwilling that any one should know the exercises 
 of my mind. 1 prayed often, but could not get near the 
 throne. I endeavored to take a view of my whole life, 
 and brought into view the various impressions which had 
 been on my mind, from my early childhood to that time, 
 in order to see if I could bring up any thing to ground a 
 hope upon. But alas! my sins would come up, and I 
 could cherish no hope. 
 
 As I have before observed, I had indulged a hope that 
 my prayers had procured a pardon of my sins from day 
 to day, as I committed them; but now I felt that all the 
 long black catalogue of crimes was still against me, and 
 would sink me to endless wo. 
 
 The second season 1 resided in Cornish, I lived with 
 Mr. E. Barker. He and his wife appeared under very 
 serious impressions of mind. They lived on the main 
 road, and had better accommodations than any other 
 family in the place. They frequently invited ministers 
 to put up there. This circumstance gave me an oppor 
 tunity of becoming acquainted with them. They would 
 sometimes converse with me, and inquire into the state 
 of my mind. I could only inform them that I was deep 
 ly concerned, but was without hope. 
 
 I frequently went a considerable distance into the 
 woods to examine myself and pray. I would endeavor 
 to tell the Lord my dreadful case; I wished to confess 
 all my sins before him with the deepest humility. I 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 143 
 
 wanted the work of repentance to be thorough, to have 
 my will completely bowed; I felt insufficient, utterly in 
 sufficient to perform the work. I pleaded with God for 
 Christ s sake, to humble me, and grant me unfeigned 
 repentance and pardon my guilty soul. 
 
 I felt myself a great sinner, I acknowledged myself 
 to be justly condemned, and intreated for mercy; and 
 after having prayed long and with many tears, I must 
 return with my mind equally burdened and distressed as 
 when I went. At some times I could weep freely, and 
 at other times 1 could not shed a tear if it would save 
 my soul. 
 
 I viewed myself to be the vilest of the vile. I cannot 
 say that 1 felt so much horror and dread of hell as 1 have 
 heard many express, but my heart was like a troubled 
 sea, whose waters cast up mire and dirt. 
 
 At meetings I would often be on the very point of 
 crying out, but I knew not what to say, nor did I wish by 
 any means to say any thing; yet it seemed as if I should 
 be involuntarily impelled to cry out; the voice seemed 
 to say " cry!" but I did not voluntarily say, u what shall 
 I cry?" I very much leared that I should cry some 
 thing in consequence of which I should feel extremely 
 mortified. 
 
 Such impressions occasioned most distressing strug 
 gles within my troubled breast. I have many times hur 
 ried at the close of the meeting to get out, fearing that 
 I should of necessity make a noise; for I had not the 
 least arrangement in my own mind what to say. After 
 I had retired and was alone, I was frequently distressed 
 for fear I had resisted and grieved the Spirit. I would 
 then query whether it could be possible that those im 
 pressions were the movings of the Spirit, when there was 
 nothing in particular dictated to me to say. I feared that 
 it was the pride of my heart and the stubbornness of my 
 will, and want of faith in Jesus Christ; and whether if I 
 had opened my mouth, he would not have filled it. 
 
 On one of these occasions, on retiring from meeting, 
 I went into the wood to pray that the Lord would con 
 vince me, in regard to this struggle, whether I should 
 open my mouth or not: but the wind blew very hard in- 
 
144 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 deed, and some limbs were broken from the trees. 1 
 was fearful lest the trees would fall on me, I could find 
 no place in which I could compose myself to pray, while 
 in such danger. 
 
 At length I discovered a very large tree, that had long 
 before been turned up by the roots. It lay athwart an 
 other large tree, and lay two or three feet from the 
 ground. I took my station under this tree as a place of 
 safety. I had scarcely commenced my devotions ere I 
 was disquieted with a train of reflections, which entirely 
 baffled my design. I upbraided myself that I had so lit 
 tle confidence in God, that I could not trust myself to his 
 protection in any place; for I was at once convinced that 
 I was as insecure in my imaginary strong hold, as in any 
 other place. 
 
 I forsook my retreat and for a while stood aghast. 1 
 may with propriety say "The tumult of my thoughts held 
 me in sad suspense." I could not dispense with prayer, 
 but I could not pray in that dangerous place. 
 
 I returned from the woods and secreted myself in a 
 cluster of bushes, and before 1 could attempt to pray, it 
 seemed as if some preparatory exercise was necessary; 
 and I commenced a train of reflections. I viewed my 
 self a sinner, yea, even the chief of sinners. I very much 
 desired to know whether it was my duty to cry out in 
 meeting, and I queried whether if the Spirit required me 
 to cry out, if 1 should not have something impressed on 
 my mind to say; but inasmuch as no particular express 
 ions were presented to my mind, 1 was disposed to jus 
 tify my forbearance; and yet I was not entirely satisfied. 
 There was, moreover, at that time a heavy burden upon 
 my mind, in consequence of my retiring from the woods. 
 I viewed myself as justly deserving the wrath of heaven. 
 I concluded that it was the devil who suggested to me 
 my danger while in the woods, and that I had yielded to 
 his temptations, rather than to place a confidence in God 
 for protection. 
 
 It seemed as if I was weighed in the balances and 
 found wanting, and indeed I felt in want. I freely con 
 fessed my many sins, was deeply sensible of my entire 
 depravity; but there were actual transgressions, the guilt 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 145 
 
 of which lay heavy on my soul. I prayed that God 
 would graciously give me repentance, and forgive my 
 many sins; and release me from the heavy burden which 
 so constantly pressed down my spirits; but I found no 
 relief. I prayed again and endeavored to be more fer 
 vent, but all my efforts were abortive. My heart was 
 yet hard, and my burden yet heavy. 1 felt a reluctance 
 to leave the place and dreaded going home in my guilty, 
 perplexed, and dejected condition. 
 
 I sometimes almost resolved not to leave the place; 
 but having done all that I could do, and yet having done 
 nothing effectually, concluded that it would be useless to 
 tarry longer, and yet I felt a reluctance in going to the 
 house in my forlorn condition; for as several of the fam 
 ily had also been to meeting, I concluded that there 
 would, of course, be an enquiry where Andrew had been 
 all this while; for it was probably near two hours after 
 the meeting was closed before I got home. I have no 
 recollection, however, that any questions were asked on 
 the occasion. 
 
 Such is the pride of the human heart that I was asham 
 ed to have it known that I was under anxious concern 
 about my eternal state. There were, however, some 
 persons who had very critically observed me, and had 
 Lad some conversation with me; but I cautiously con 
 cealed the state of my mind as to particular exercises, 
 yet I was willing to have it understood that I felt friend 
 ly to religion. I had long ere this, had some hard con 
 tests with my self-righteous pharisaical pride; but this 
 sin still clave to me, or rather I to that; and even to this 
 day it has been my almost constant attendant. But I 
 thank my God that he has not only discovered this deadly 
 enemy to me, but that he has also discovered to me the 
 other inbred lusts and corruptions of my heart, and I 
 trust he has also given me a hostile spirit to them all, so 
 far as 1 have discovered them. 
 
 During the season in which I was employed by Mr. 
 Barker, I had a fit of sickness, occasioned by working 
 too hard, although he frequently cautioned me to for 
 bear, knowing that my constitution was impaired; but I 
 was ambitious to do as much as his other laborers, and 
 13 
 
146 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 yet, with all my exertions, it was impracticable. 1 was 
 obliged to send more than twenty miles for doctor A. 
 Hall, of Alfred, to attend me; there was no physician 
 nearer, and I was the first person who had called him 
 into that town. 
 
 My uncle and other friends observed to me that I 
 never should be able to get my living by manual labor. 
 This was very trying to my feelings, and the more so as 
 I had scarcely ever had been outdone while a sailor, af 
 ter I undertook to do my duty before the mast. 
 
 My spirits were good and my limbs firm, my hands 
 and arms uncommonly strong, and they had been fre 
 quently tried. Often had I been suspended by the arms 
 and held my grip, in gales of wind, where others must 
 have been plunged irrecoverably into the deep, lint I 
 had now a weakness of the stomach. Here I first fail 
 ed: and a little severe exertion after the stomach began 
 to complain, would debilitate the whole system. While 
 unable to labor, I felt great depression of spirits, my 
 prospects dubious. I was scarcely free from debt, for I 
 had become responsible for my mother s house rent in 
 Portsmouth, nor had I any capital to commence business. 
 My education was quite limited, although much superior 
 to any other person s in the town. Of course, when the 
 winter came about, I had no difficulty in getting a 
 school. Previous to my commencing this business, I 
 put myself under the tuition of my cousin, Jethro Fur- 
 ber, who was quite a proficient in arithmetic and geom 
 etry. 
 
 In a few weeks I obtained a sufficient knowledge of 
 the art of surveying, to enable me to do any business- 
 which was necessary at that time in the country where 
 I resided, 
 
 It was no small gratification to me that I gave entire 
 satisfaction to my employers in my school; and I had al 
 so the fortune to have the good will of my scholars : but 
 these things proved a snare to me, for in regard to reli 
 gion my mind relapsed in a measure. 
 
 But the liberties in which I indulged, planted thorns in 
 my pillow. I found that I could not sin at a cheap rate. 
 
 .When the spring came on, I commenced business by 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 147 
 
 myself. I was not able to buy any land, but undertook 
 to clear eight acres for Mr. Boynton, and with what lit 
 tle money 1 could command, I purchased such articles in 
 Portsmouth, as would command labor, and expended 
 this labor in clearing the land. I had also considerable 
 business in surveying; but I generally had to take my 
 pay in labor; but this I could turn to good advantage in 
 clearing my land. 
 
 I made my home at Mr. Barker s, and had to go nearly 
 half a mile to my work, and chiefly through the woods. 
 
 The reformation had nearly subsided, to appearance, 
 I yet remained unconverted, and feared that the day of 
 grace was passed. I would sometimes relate the exer 
 cises of my mind, at other times I would affect to deny 
 I had any anxious concern about my own salvation; and 
 indeed I sometimes questioned whether all that had 
 transpired in what was called the reformation, and iny 
 own exercises about religion were not altogether imag 
 inary. 
 
 I have sometimes questioned the existence of a God, 
 or if there was, whether in his providence he superinten 
 ded the various events and concerns of creatures. But 
 here I could not long dwell; I could not reason Jehovah 
 out of existence. 1 could not deny his sovereignly, om 
 nipotence or omnipresence; but I was not reconciled to 
 Ins economy. I read many passages of scripture, which 
 to me were " hard sayings." I had exceedingly hard 
 trials with the sayings of Jesus in Matthew xi. 25 arid 
 26, and Luke x. 20 and 21. 
 
 It was a trying thought to me that the names of any 
 should be written in heaven if mine was not written there, 
 I presumed that those whose names were written there, 
 were written there before the foundation of the world, 
 and that if mine was not written, I never should go there. 
 
 I was unreconciled to Jesus because he rejoiced and 
 thanked the Father that these things were so. And I 
 was equally unreconciled to the Father, that he should 
 hide these things from some and reveal them to others. 
 
 The following passage was to me a hard saying. 
 "And Jesus said, for judgment I am come into this 
 world, that they that see not, might see; and that they that 
 
18 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 see, might be made blind." John ix. 39, the tenth and 
 the seventeenth of John; the eighth and ninth of Ilo- 
 mans, and also the first chapter of the Epistle to the 
 Ephesians, contained many passages that were very try 
 ing to me. 
 
 The reformation, as I before observed, seemed to have 
 subsided, arid there arose some disputations between the 
 Presbyterians and Free Will Baptists, upon certain points 
 of doctrine, for the preachers of each denomination fre 
 quently preached to the same congregation. The great 
 er part of their preachers were Calvinists. 
 
 I was rather in favor of the free-will party, for I had 
 not yet altogether given up the thoughts of doing some 
 thing toward my own salvation; and yet it seemed that 
 I had already done all that was possible for me to do. 
 
 I before said that I had some distance to go through 
 the woods to my work. It was not often that any one 
 but myself passed that way, and as I had for a long time 
 been in the habit of praying, it seemed both convenient 
 and necessary, that I should at least occasionally pray 
 in these woods. But the greatest difficulty was to find 
 a suitable place, where I should be sufficiently retired. 
 I had probably passed a number of times through these 
 woods without attempting to pray, it seemed so difficult 
 to find a convenient place. 
 
 I at length apprehended that Satan did not design I 
 should find a convenient place, if he could prevent me, 
 for I could not pass through the lonely forest without 
 having my rnind exercised respecting prayer. I there 
 fore made it my business to look out a convenient place 
 for that purpose. I discovered a very large black birch 
 tree, a few rods north of my path; the spurs of its roots 
 put out from the trunk so high up, that on the north side 
 between two of its largest spurs, a person might conceal 
 himself, except on one side. 
 
 This seemed the most suitable place for me to com 
 mence my devotions, and here I attempted to pray, but 
 my mind was considerably embarrassed; the adversary 
 of souls was busy with me. I, however, was very con 
 stant in visiting this place; but I could not find that re 
 lief that my soul seemed to pant after, and I began to 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 149 
 
 question the propriety of my continuing the practice, for 
 it seemed that I could not possibly get near the throne. 
 My prayers seemed to be shut out; I felt my depravity; 
 I lamented my iniquities, and plead for pardon. I plead 
 with God to let me know why my petitions were reject 
 ed. I well knew that he perfectly comprehended me, 
 and that I could not deceive him. 
 
 Probably I did not at this time realize that there was 
 much of the scriptures to which I was not reconciled. 
 I finally concluded that it was useless for me to pray, 
 and so I passed by my tree without attempting it. I 
 had gone but a few rods, before I had very hard strug 
 gles in my mind: there was a query whether I should 
 turn my back upon God. I halted, and inquired why I 
 should pray, when I could realize no benefit from it? or 
 why pray in that place, in particular? And, perhaps, if 
 I had prayed that that might have been the time when I 
 should have found relief; I could not feel at liberty to 
 proceed, but must return to the tree, and attempt to 
 pray. I prayed, and still continued to pray; and at 
 times would have apparently some enlargement, but 
 nothing which was fully satisfactory. This practice I 
 continued pretty much through the season. 
 
 In the autumn of the year, Doctor Hezekiah Smith, 
 of Haverhill, passed through Cornish, on his return 
 home from a journey to the north. He was, doubtless, 
 one of the most accomplished arid most pious ministers 
 of the age. He put up with old Mr. Joshua Chadbourn, 
 who lived at that time in an ordinary log cabin. They 
 had had some acquaintance some years before, in San- 
 lord, where there had been a reformation. Dr. Smith 
 was a fine looking man, and genteel in his de 
 portment. I was surprised to see how perfectly at home 
 he seemed to be in the humble cottage; but I was aston 
 ished when I heard him preach. He came late on Sat 
 urday evening, preached three times on the Sabbath, 
 and left us on Monday morning. His preaching caus 
 ed my very soul to tremble: I have a perfect recollec 
 tion of his text to this day. At the close of the last ex 
 ercise, I retired to the deep forest. I went a consider 
 able distance, and with a full determination never more 
 13* 
 
150 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 to. behold the face of a mortal, until I could find the 
 Lord to be precious to my soul. I knew that in one di 
 rection it was five or six miles before I should come to 
 any road or inhabitants. I resolved to unfold my whole 
 soul to God, and plead for mercy; concluding that I could 
 not make too great a sacrifice for the salvation of my 
 soul. I prayed a long time: I made confession of all 
 the sins I could remember, and plead forgiveness, and 
 that God would pardon those which I had forgotten. 
 I prayed aloud I exhausted my thoughts, and 
 ideas I exhausted my strength 1 almost fainted. 
 I awaited a smile from heaven; but I found no relief, 
 and began to murmur against God. I argued that I 
 had done all that was in my power, and that he would 
 not help me. A deep remorse took hold on me: I wonder 
 ed that God did not strike dead such a wretch: such blas 
 phemous and presumptuous thoughts abundantly increa 
 sed my guilt and distress. 1 then endeavored to become 
 more fervent; and plead with God, that for Christ s 
 sake, he would humble me: that he would grant me true 
 repentance, and forgive my sins, and especially my re 
 cent blasphemous thoughts. 
 
 Myeoulwas in deep anguish: I wished that I had 
 never had a being: I felt as if I was the vilest of the vile; 
 the very chief of sinners. It seemed as if my damnation 
 was sealed, and that there was no hope for me; and I 
 wondered why I was kept in existence. It was myste 
 rious to me, why I should have been so long under such 
 great distress; that I should have strove so hard and so 
 perseveringly to get religion, and yet remain in such a 
 wretched state. I plead with the Almighty that he 
 would rectify my heart; enlighten my understanding; 
 and convince me what he would have done, and enable 
 me to do it. But after all I could think, say, or do, I 
 still remained comfortless, und seemed to sink into stu 
 pidity, and felt as if I was "more brutish than any man." 
 I queried whether I had not presumptuously formed the 
 aforesaid resolution, to bring the all wise God to my 
 terms. I was ashamed of myself, and concluded to re 
 tire from the woods. 
 
 Being acquainted with the ground, by the help of the 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 151 
 
 stars, I shaped my course for a road that led to my un 
 cle s. It was probably past midnight when I crept into 
 his hovel. I took a bundle of flax for a pillow: but be 
 fore I could lay down to sleep, I must pray again. I 
 felt more composed for a few minutes, and then felt a 
 heavy trial on my mind, presuming I had fallen into a 
 state of insensibility. I lay down, and began to look 
 over the various scenes through which I had passed; 
 the dangers I had escaped; and the many promises I had 
 made to God, and broken. I recollected that my pre 
 vious periods of conviction were of short duration, but 
 that I had now been long under distress; and feared 
 that I should never find favor with God. I believe that 
 I slept a little, but left the hovel as soon as it was light; 
 for I was very unwilling to have it known how or where 
 I had spent the night. 
 
 In returning to Mr. Barker s, I met my uncle. The 
 preaching had very much affected him, and he had tar 
 ried all night with one of his friends. 
 
 We had but a very few words together, probably 
 equally unwilling to disclose the state of our minds, or 
 make inquiries of each other. We had passed through 
 hard trials together, but they were very different from 
 the present. My mind was more solemn than usual for 
 some days, and I thought much on Dr. Smith s dis 
 courses. 
 
 Shortly after these things, I was informed that there 
 was an office opened in the city of New- York, and com 
 missioners appointed, to settle naval accounts. I resolv 
 ed to go personally and settle my own; and I obtained 
 ten or more letters of attorney from my shipmates, to 
 settle theirs also. 
 
 Mr. Thomas Lord, who was cooper of the Ranger, 
 lived in Limerick, about seven miles from Cornish: he 
 wished me to take a power of attorney from him. This 
 circumstance occasioned me to spend a night with him; 
 and as we had been old shipmates together, it was to be 
 expected that we should converse upon our adventures. 
 My friend was yet in the habit of using some of the 
 seaman s dialect, but 1 had entirely laid it aside. 
 In the course of the evening, our conversation turned 
 
12 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 upon this subject. My friend acknowledged it to be 
 a useless and a wicked practice, and that he had several 
 times resolved to quit, and for a short time had abstain 
 ed from it; but that he had become addicted to it; his 
 neighbors in general practised it, and that it was difficult 
 for him to avoid it. 
 
 I gave him some account of what had taken place in 
 Cornish for near two years past, and how disgusting it 
 had been to me, and the different views now entertained 
 on the subject; although I was far from thinking myself 
 a Christian. Mr. L. had heard rumors of the work in 
 Cornish, but had paid little or no attention to it. It was 
 now late in the evening: there was no candle burning, 
 and the fire was low. Mr. Lord discovered his wife fall 
 ing from her chair; he being near her, caught and sup 
 ported her. Much surprised, he desired me to support 
 her while he should get a light: he stepped into a back 
 room where he had been at work, and stooping down in 
 haste to get a handful of shavings, struck his forehead 
 violently on the post of a chair, which occasioned so 
 much pain that at first he was in fear that he had lost his 
 eye; (the blow was on the edge of the bone, directly 
 above the eye;) he hove the shavings on the fire, which 
 immediately afforded a good light. Mrs. Lord had par 
 tially recovered, and Mr. Lord soon ascertained that his 
 eye was not materially injured, and observed that it was 
 of the Lord s mercy that it was no worse. 
 
 It afterwards appeared that Mrs. L. had fainted, or 
 something like it, in consequence of the observations and 
 reflections on the reformation in Cornish. I shall have 
 occasion to refer to this subject hereafter. 
 
 It is very natural to suppose that I felt a strong attach 
 ment to my two uncles (Timothy and James Weymouth,) 
 who sailed with me in the Ranger, and who were in cap 
 tivity with me in Charleston, South-Carolina. Timothy 
 had settled himself comfortably in Meredith, New-Hamp 
 shire. While a lad, he lived with my father, when I was 
 but a small boy: he was therefore to me as a brother, and 
 as I was going to New- York on the business before men 
 tioned, I thought it to be highly expedient to give my un 
 cle Timothy an opportunity to get his account settled. 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 153 
 
 I therefore took a journey to Meredith, about fifty miles, 
 on foot; as I was unable to afford myself a horse. I was 
 prepared to commence my journey from Portsmouth, 
 New-Hampshire to the city of New- York, about the first 
 of January, 1788. 
 
 On my arrival at the city of New-York, I presented 
 my papers at the office, and was informed that my busi 
 ness might be adjusted in about ten days. I observed to 
 the gentlemen who were clerks in the office, that it would 
 be very inconvenient forme to be detained so long: that 
 I had come more than 300 miles on foot, that I was in 
 low circumstances, and had but little money; and should 
 feel very much obliged to them, if they would hasten the 
 business; and they seemed quite accommodating. I 
 cannot say whether they were Yankees or not; at any 
 rate, they were as inquisitive as Yankees generally are, 
 and asked me a great many questions. 
 
 I presume they had been officers in the army them 
 selves. They requested me to call again in three or 
 four days, and said they would do all they could to facil 
 itate the business. A Mrs. Ayres, of Portsmouth, with 
 whom I was intimately acquainted, had a son (by her 
 first husband) then residing in the city of New- York, 
 whose name was Pierce: he sailed from that port master 
 of a vessel. I called on this gentleman and delivered 
 him a letter from his mother. Capt. Pierce expressed 
 himself very glad to see an old townsman. Although he 
 had never seen me before, he treated me with particular 
 attention, and very cordially invited me to, and even in 
 sisted, that I should make his house my home, while I 
 continued in the city. There is a spirit of philanthropy 
 generally among sailors, which is riot always to be found 
 in men of other professions. 
 
 This circumstance I view to have been a peculiar in 
 terposition of a gracious providence in rny favor; and es 
 pecially as I was indigent, and the money which I was 
 to receive from government, was a very poor currency. 
 While I continued in the city, I had sufficient leisure to 
 walk round the docks and wharves with Capt. Pierce. 
 
 While paying some attention to the beautiful looking 
 vessels which I visited in company with my friend, I felt 
 
154 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 such an attachment to my old employment, that I had 
 some difficulty in overcoming the temptation to embark, 
 and follow my former business. However, I brought 
 into view the situation in which I was placed; the re 
 sponsibility I was under to my employers; and various 
 other considerations, I saw at once the impropriety of 
 such a measure. I had also an opportunity more than 
 once to cast a look across the East river, where yet lay 
 that wretched old prison-ship, the Jersey; where, five 
 years ago from that very month, day, and hour, I had 
 Buffered almost every thing but death. The Volley bank, 
 (so called,) on the Long-Island side, under which a large 
 majority of my shipmates had left their bones, lay full in 
 my view! I shall not undertake minutely to describe 
 the sensations of my soul on those occasions, for they are 
 beyond my powers of description: I must therefore leave 
 ray readers to draw their own conclusions. 
 
 When I called the second .time at the office, I found 
 my business settled. I received near a thousand dollars 
 for myself and shipmates: my own wages for fifteen 
 months service, (after deducting several articles of cloth 
 ing which I had drawn,) amounted to about seventy-three 
 dollars; worth at this time about two and eight pence on 
 the pound, or between twelve and thirteen cents on the 
 dollar. The whole sum was paid in paper, which was 
 called "Walker s final settlement." I took my money, 
 such as it was, and in an office adjoining, under the same 
 roof, I was offered the cash for the whole sum, at two 
 and eight pence on the pound. I felt indignant; drop 
 ped a few words probably rather severe or insolent; and 
 directly after, taking a grateful leave of rny host, clear 
 ed out from New- York the second time, abundantly more 
 sea-worthy than when I cleared out from the satellites of 
 the old Jersey, five years before. I returned as far as 
 Boston, and was under the necessity of replenishing my 
 purse: 1 therefore sold one of my final settlement certifi 
 cates. It was about thirty-three dollars, and belonged to 
 John Hooper, who agreed to let me have it at the "going 
 price." I found these certificates to be in demand at 
 Boston, Salem, Newburyport and Portsmouth; and in 
 deed there were runners in all parts of our country buy 
 ing up those certificates, as well as soldiers claims, 
 
ANDREW SHERBUR.VE, 
 
 Walker s final settlements would brirYg but two and 
 eight pence on the pound, however, at that time, and 
 necessity compelled me to part with mine; so that for 
 thirteen months seruice on board the Ranger, (exclu 
 sive of the time of my imprisonment, ike.) I received 
 something short of ten dollars; and even this was not 
 paid until eight years after the service was performed. 
 
 Whether the time of our imprisonment was included 
 in making up our wages, I am not able to say. 
 The time of our imprisonment, however, was not long; 
 but it was my lot to endure three months painful sick 
 ness before I was capable of service again. \Vhiie tak 
 ing my long and tedious walk to and from the city of 
 IN ew- York, a distance of near seven hundred miles, 
 which was performed in about six weeks, I had opportu 
 nity to reflect much on the previous exercises of my 
 mind upon the subject of religion, and I was resolved 
 not to relinquish the pursuit of an object of such infinite 
 importance. The excitement of rny mind, however, 
 was considerably abated. I continued to pray, and, 
 alas! I also continued to sin. The reformation had ap 
 parently subsided, and meetings were not so frequent 
 as usual. In the latter part of Ihis winter I employed 
 mysell in studying arithmetic and geometry, in order that 
 I might be a greater proficient in surveying; there being 
 <L prohability that I should have considerable business in 
 that line. I bought ten acres of land, and the summer 
 following built me a small house. In this season I had 
 another fit of sickness. 
 
 Early in September, Elder Zebediah Richardson, who 
 had frequently preached in Cornish, made us a visit, and 
 there were two women (a Mrs. Benton and a Mrs. Rich 
 ardson) offered themselves for baptism. I attended the 
 meeting and heard them relate their experience before 
 the whole congregation; that being the custom in those 
 days. 
 
 I had never before felt such an excitement on such an 
 occasion. They had my undeviating attention through 
 their whole narration. They appeared to me so angelic, 
 tlwLt I was not in the least disposed to question the truth 
 of a single word they uttered. They were strangers to 
 
MEMOIRS OF 
 
 me, and lived in the adjoining town of Baldwin. With a 
 perfect knowledge of my heart, they could not have ex 
 pressed my exercises of mind for years past, more fully 
 than they did; but they had obtained a peace, and they 
 knew a joy to which I was a stranger. I thought, I ver 
 ily thought, that if I could obtain the meanest place 
 among the saints if I could be but a door-keeper in the 
 house of God, I should be happy. Yea, if the world 
 was mine. I would cheerfully give it, if I might be per 
 mitted to be servant of all. This was in the fore part of 
 the dav ; the preacher had an appointment at Limerick, 
 a town seven miles south, at four o clock in the after 
 noon, and I was resolved that if I could get a horse, I 
 would bear him company, and tell him my whole heart. 
 
 For some time previous to this, I had become rather 
 stupid and cold in my mind: yes, I had even relapsed, 
 and fallen into some of my former sins: had become very 
 worldly minded; but I constantly found that 
 
 " Sin s promised joys were turned to pain." 
 
 I had no difficulty in obtaining a horse to ride to Lim 
 erick, but I muse go half a mile to a pasture and take it 
 myself. My case seemed urgent: I must go, and noth 
 ing except some peculiar interposition of providence 
 could hinder. 1 had several hands engaged to work for 
 me the next day, but I would not suffer this circumstance 
 to prevent me. I must go with Mr. Richardson, andteM 
 him my whole heart. I had also resolved to visit two 
 other ministers, who had previously invited me to call 
 upon them. My .mind was under such excitement that 
 I could eat no dinner, though repeatedly urged by my 
 friends. 
 
 I was very impatient to have elder Richardson s com 
 pany, but to my great disappointment and extreme mor 
 tification there was another person going in company; 
 this completely baffled my plan. I could not possibly en 
 joy the liberty I had anticipated in conversing with elder 
 Richaidson. My mind was extremely perplexed, I felt 
 myself to be the most miserable of all creatures, and 
 wished myself at home again. I began to enquire what 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 157 
 
 my neighbors would say in consequence of my leaving 
 my business and going oft* with a minister. I had made 
 it up in my mind before 1 set out, that if any of my friends 
 wished to know my business at Limerick, I could tell 
 them that Mr. Lord was owing me some money, and that 
 1 wished to know whether it was ready for me. 
 
 Such was the pride and deceitfulness of my heart, 
 that I was unwilling to have that known of me which it 
 was out of my power to conceal, even from creatures, 
 much less from Him who searcheth the heart and 
 trieth the reins. I could not feel at liberty to talk either 
 with Mr. R. or the other person present. 
 
 At length we came in sight of the meeting and saw 
 many people collected. I felt like a malefactor, and 
 would have preferred being alone in the wilderness; but 
 it seemed as if I was almost involuntarily impelled for 
 ward. I had scarcely dismounted ere I saw my old 
 shipmate, (Mr. Lord,) hastening toward me with a coun 
 tenance unusually expressive of joy and friendship. He 
 expressed himself in the following manner. 
 
 " How do you do, Mr. Sherburne, 1 am glad to see 
 you, and I must tell you that God has converted my 
 soul. Esther is converted too, and you were the instru 
 ment of it. I thought I must speak to you before meet 
 ing began, or else I should not enjoy the meeting. 
 
 I owe you some money, but I have not got it, I 
 thought I would speak to you about it before meeting 
 began, or otherwise it would be worrying me all meet 
 ing time. I hope you won t think hard of me, Mr. Sher 
 burne, I suppose 1 can get it for you soon." 
 
 I could scarcely, (without interrupting him) tell him 
 that he need not give himself any concern about the 
 money. He was in haste to inform me what had recent 
 ly taken place in his own family and among his neigh 
 bors, within two weeks; he referred to the circumstance 
 which I have before mentioned respecting his wife s 
 fainting. It was like a dagger to my heart that he 
 should consider the conversation I had had with himself 
 and his wife the winter before, as being the instrumen 
 tal means of her conversion. " What," 
 it be possible that a wretch so vile,)B<?> 
 14 
 
158 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 abominable, could be the means of a soul s conversion?" 
 I sunk into dejection and despair. 
 
 Again I viewed the scenes of distress through which 
 I had been drawn, and the numerous instances of con 
 versions which had taken place within the circle of my 
 acquaintance since I had been deeply concerned, and in 
 how short a time some had been brought to rejoice in 
 Jesus. It seemed as if mine was a lost case; that it was 
 God s design to send me down to regions of black des 
 pair; and I was, notwithstanding, constrained to ac 
 knowledge that God was just, and that I justly deserv 
 ed his everlasting displeasure. 
 
 In this state of embarrassment, I went into the meet 
 ing; my perplexity continued throughout the services. 
 At the close of the meeting the young converts surroun 
 ded the minister and appeared very happy. I stood 
 aloof, and by the time 1 had resolved to follow the min 
 ister to his lodgings, and make to him the communica 
 tions which I had formerly designed, my old ship 
 mate came to rne and insisted that I must go and spend 
 the night with him: the congregation had principally 
 dispersed. Mr. Lord and myself mounted our horses 
 in company with six or eight others; a Mrs. Howard, a 
 lady of decent abilities and a good education, with whom 
 I had had some acquaintance, was riding beside me, and 
 addressed me as follows: 
 
 " Well, Mr. Sherburne, what do you think of all this? 
 do you think you have any religion?" Before I was 
 aware I cried aloud, and the tears flowing copiously. I 
 hastily replied, " O dear madam, I know nothing about 
 religion; I am a poor miserable sinner." 
 
 In a moment I felt ready to upbraid myself for my im 
 becility. I was very much ashamed that I had exposed 
 myself in such a company; it was some mitigation of my 
 distress that they were all Christians, for wretched as I 
 was, I felt a reverence for Christians. My friends seem 
 ed to wish to comfort me, and especially Mr. Lord and 
 his wife. 
 
 Mrs. L. now felt a freedom to express the exercise of 
 her mind at the time she fainted; though she had nev 
 er felt willing to speak of it until she had entertained a 
 
ANDREW SliERBURNE. 159 
 
 hope that she was converted. They both manifested a 
 great degree of sympathy for me. 
 
 We passed the greatest part of the night in conversa 
 tion, and 1 allowed myself the liberty of relating the ex 
 ercises of my mind. Mr. Lord argued that I certainly 
 must be converted; that I knew much more than he did, 
 and he was confident that the Lord had converted his 
 soul that he had no desire to sin, that he felt love to 
 Jesus, and had much delight in Christians, and had 
 much satisfaction in reading the scriptures. 
 
 * You know," said he, " what a poor ignorant crea 
 ture I was; I had never paid any attention to religion or 
 to the bible, but God in his mercy to me, took me just 
 as I was, and showed me that I was an awful sinner, 
 and converted me; but 1 don t know half so much about - 
 the scriptures now as you do. I ll go down to Mills 
 with you in the morning; he can talk with you, he is 
 but a young man, but he is very gifted in prayer, and is 
 well acquainted with the scriptures." 
 
 In the morning we went down to Messrs. John and 
 Jacob Mills; they both lived in one house, themselves 
 and their wives had lately experienced religion, also 
 Nancy Libbey, who was a sister to John Mills wife. 
 
 My friend L. introduced me to them all, but I was 
 very much shut up in my mind; they spent an hour 
 in reading, singing, and praying, and I returned to Mr. 
 Lord s again and took breakfast. 
 
 Elder Richardson, in returning home to Sanford, just 
 called to the door to speak to the young converts. He 
 said to me, " Well, young man, do you find any further 
 satisfaction in your mind?" I replied, " No, Sir, nor 
 shall I, unless the Lord helps me." " True enough," 
 said he, " if the Lord don t help you, you will never get 
 help;" and immediately clapped spurs to his horse and 
 went on. Fora moment I felt displeased with him, but 
 I shortly felt distressed in consequence of indulging 
 that feeling. 
 
 I concluded to go on, and call upon the two other 
 ministers heretofore referred to. I was resolved no Ion- 
 gar to conceal the state of my mind. Mr. L. could 
 make a little business on the same road, and concluded 
 to go several .miles with me. In passing the house we 
 
ICO MEMOIRS OF 
 
 had visited in the morning, he had occasion to call, and 
 he invited me to call, but I declined. 
 
 Jacob Mills was in his tan-house, or barn on the op 
 posite side of the road, grinding bark. I stepped into 
 the tan-house, while Mr. L. went into the house. As 
 soon as Mr. Mills saw me, he left his work and drew 
 toward me, and began to speak very freely in representing 
 what a wicked slate the neighborhood was in but a few- 
 days ago, and what a remarkable change had taken 
 place with them. 
 
 He had my attention for a moment. He was seated 
 on a ladder a few yards from me. Such a train of re 
 flections ran thro my mind, together with an " horror of 
 great darkness," that I did not notice him. But in a mo 
 ment I felt an extraordinary and powerful change, and 
 ere I was aware, my whole soul was deeply employed in 
 adoration. I conceived, saw, and felt more of Deity 
 than I had ever done in all my life before: my darkness 
 and gloom had fled, my burden was gone, my soul seem 
 ed as calm and serene as the summer evening, and my 
 employment was adoration, adoration ! 
 
 I adored the power supreme: I felt love, joy, peace. 
 A little insect fluttered before my eyes, in which I saw 
 more of God, or rather conceived more of God, than had 
 been exhibited to me in all the preaching Jhad ever 
 heard. 1 said within, what meaneth this? Is this con 
 version? I wist not what to call it, but I had no trouble; 
 I had no pain either of body or mind; I had no guilt or 
 fear; all was peace, and I must adore. 
 
 Perhaps two minutes had not passed away in this 
 happy frame of mind, before I was interrupted by a tri 
 fling noise that seemed to come from behind me. I turn 
 ed about, and to rny surprise, saw five or six persons 
 regularly formed in a semi-circle, all standing motion 
 less, with their eyes fixed upon me, and I believe the 
 tears were trickling down most, if not all their cheeks. 
 They looked to me as angels, I loved them as my own 
 soul; all was silent as death. 
 
 I was the first who broke silence, and said, "I feel 
 differently from what I ever did before." Said one arid 
 another, < ( How do you feel?" I attempted some descrip- 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 161 
 
 tion; but neither tongue nor pen can describe it. Their 
 countenances immediately changed, and they all seemed 
 exceeding joyful, and very confident that 1 had passed 
 from death unto life, and I could heartily rejoice with 
 them, for my peace was like a river. 
 
 We all left the tan-house and went into the house, and 
 joined in singing, prayer arid praise to God and the Larnb. 
 
 1 was desirous to know what circumstance induced 
 them all to come into the barn just at that time. I was 
 informed that on Mr. Lord s going into the house, the in 
 quiry was made what had become of that young man? 
 He answered, "that he had gone into the barn." u Why 
 did he not come in," said one; Mr. L. replied, that he 
 invited him to come in, but he declined. " Why, I want 
 to see him again," said one and another. " Oh!" said Mr. 
 L. " you never saw any poor soul more burdened than he 
 is." " Why, we must see him again." Finally, they 
 all set out and came into the barn together. It seems 
 that they came there about the time that the heavy bur 
 den was removed from my soul. 
 
 They freely expressed to me what a deep sympathy 
 they felt for me, and the great joy they felt on my deliv 
 erance. 
 
 All worldly business was suspended, and each appear 
 ed to be as happy as creatures could be in this state of 
 existence. We sometimes contrasted our present views 
 and feelings with what they had formerly been. For my 
 self, I never before felt such perfect freedom in express 
 ing what had been the exercises of my mind. My com 
 panions seemed to be the excellent of the earth, in whom 
 was my delight. I could freely say, 
 
 " My willing soul would stay, 
 
 In such a frame as this; 
 And sit and sing herself away, 
 
 To everlasting bliss." 
 
 Our interview commenced about 9 o clock, and con 
 tinued until past noon, before they seemed to think that 
 they had any more to do with the world. 
 
 .During this period I had such views and contempla 
 tions, that I was almost in astonishment and wonder that 
 14* 
 
16 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 a creature so vile and so unbelieving as I had been, 
 should have been rendered capable of so much joy in 
 God, my Savior. I could not conceive that any thing 
 short of the interposition of the power and spirit of a 
 gracious Savior could communicate such happiness to 
 rny soul. It seemed " like a young heaven on earthly 
 ground, and glory in the bud," 
 
 While in this delightful company, I more than once 
 had this question pass my mind, whether this joy would 
 continue with me after I should leave this company? but 
 the thought was momentary. 
 
 At length something was said about the time of day, 
 (for we seemed ail to have been lost in regard to time,) 
 and it being past twelve o clock, I purposed to be going; 
 but iny good friends would not consent that I should go 
 until alter dinner. They insisted on a promise, that I 
 would call on them again in the course of the ensuing 
 week. It was so late that Mr. L. concluded not to v ac 
 company me any farther, and for a moment I regretted 
 leaving such delightful company. 
 
 Having taken dinner, and I being about to leave them, 
 each one took me by the hand and bid me God speed. 
 When I put my foot into the stirrup to mount my horse, 
 a thought rolled over my mind, whether I should not 
 leave all my comfort when I left this company; this oc 
 casioned a moment s depression only, and was gone, 
 scarcely interrupting my peace. 
 
 I went on my way rejoicing in God, my Savior, whose 
 power and glory was richly displayed in every object on 
 which I cast my eyes. I had often heard young converts 
 speak something of the glorious displays of Deity in the 
 works of creation, but the half was never told me, nor is 
 it possible that I should describe what I saw and felt of 
 the displays of divine glory. 
 
 Old things had passed away, and all things had become 
 new; I felt such love, joy and peace, that I could scarce 
 ly desire those graces of the Holy Spirit to be increased, 
 for my cup was full. I was astonished when I contrast 
 ed my present feelings with any I had ever before real 
 ized. I was perfectly satisfied that nothing short of an 
 Almighty power could have wrought such a change in 
 me; a change wrought independently of any act of mine. 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 163 
 
 I being alone, had an opportunity for uninterrupted re 
 flection and self-examination; and I endeavored faithful 
 ly to improve the opportunity. 
 
 I was very sensible that I had been one of the very 
 chief of sinners, but I felt acquitted from all guilt, in view 
 of what JESUS, my precious Savior had suffered for 
 wretched sinners. I felt as completely justified as though 
 I had never sinned. I could realize no more propensity 
 to sin than I should feel to partake of the most deadly 
 poison. My love was without dissimulation and my joy 
 ecstatic. A criminal who had received a pardon under 
 the gallows could not have felt more grateful to his ben 
 efactors, than I at this time felt to my gracious God, for 
 the great deliverance he had wrought for my soul. [ 
 could verily say, " He brought me up also out of an horri 
 ble pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock, 
 and established my goings, and he hath put a new song 
 in my mouth, even praise unto our God." 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Especial enjoyment in religious company^ Mrs, Bar 
 ker H. Chadbourn, Esq. Reconciled to the Scrip 
 tures Severe trials Takes a school in Limerick 
 Visits Portsmouth Baptized~-~ftev. Joseph Walton 
 Marries Miss Jane Muchamore^-County Convention. 
 
 THIS extraordinary change took place with me on the 
 ninth day of September, 1789; and this present day is 
 the ninth of September, 1827 j that is, just thirty-eight 
 years ago. 
 
 I went on and called to see one of the ministers whom 
 I have heretofore spoken of, but found no one in the 
 house. 1 called on the other and found him deeply en 
 gaged in worldly business. This circumstance depress 
 ed my mind for a short time. 
 
 1 shortly after fell in company with Mr. J. Chadbourn, 
 a licensed Baptist preacher, under whose ministry I 
 chiefly sat. He had frequently talked to me in times 
 past, when. I felt but little liberty to reply; but at this 
 
164 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 time I felt great freedom and engrossed almost all the 
 conversation. He seemed to be patient and attentive to 
 hear from me a long detail of my previous and recent 
 exercises. We rode five or six miles together quite slow 
 ly, it being night. He expressed a satisfaction in his 
 judgment that I had passed from death unto life; nor did 
 it, at this time, give me any uneasiness, as it had done 
 many times previously, when respectable Christians had 
 intimated to me that they hoped that I was a Christian. 
 
 I had to go forty rods from the road to turn out my 
 horse, and having turned him through the gate, the dis 
 tressed condition I was in when I took the horse through 
 the same gate, the day before, to accompany elder Rich 
 ardson to Limerick, occurred to me. I was then a poor, 
 dejected, trembling, and perplexed mortal; but now pos 
 sessed such elevation of soul, such tranquillity of devo- 
 tedness to my blessed Lord, that I could scarcely desire 
 to be happier. 
 
 I had at this time and place a blessed opportunity to 
 render thanks and praise to my gracious and glorious 
 God, and to pray that I might continue in his love, and 
 worship and serve him in spirit and in truth, so long as I 
 should live, nor did I neglect the opportunity. I came 
 boldly, and I trust humbly to the throne of grace. I had 
 great freedom, and joy inexpressible and full of glory. I 
 arose from the earth and lifted my eyes toward the heav 
 ens, and saw as I never .before saw. " The heavens de 
 clare the glory of God, and the firmament sheweth forth 
 his handy work." 
 
 I walked towards the road, and it seemed as if my feet 
 scarcely touched the ground. My soul was so filled 
 with love, joy and peace, that I continued praistng and 
 praying all the way as 1 walked, and yet I could hot al 
 low myself to go into the house, until I should more for 
 mally pray again; and I selected a place for that purpose 
 where I had often attempted to pray before. It was un 
 der the side of a large rock, perhaps twenty rods from 
 the road. 
 
 I went to this place cheerfully, and I enjoyed such 
 freedom and happiness as confirmed me, at that time, in 
 the thought, that my enjoyments would never decrease. 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 165 
 
 In this frame of mind I went to the house, it being near 
 mid-night, the family were all in bed. I lighted a can 
 dle, and before I could retire to rest, I must look into 
 the bible. 1 read several chapters in one of the Kvan- 
 gelists, and I feasted upon the word. I retired to my bed 
 and prayed silently before I lay down. A multitude of 
 thoughts rushed in quick succession upon me, and among 
 others, my mother, brothers and sisters, came into my 
 mind for the first time since I had enjoyed this freedom. 
 I wondered that I had not thought of them before, and 
 in a moment. 1 charged myself with ingratitude. 
 
 It was instantly suggested to my mind that my religion 
 could not be genuine, because I had not prayed particu 
 larly for my own family; but my trial was of short dura 
 tion. I concluded that it was a suggestion of Satan, 
 and that I might yet pray for them, which I did. I went 
 to sleep praying and praising; slept sweetly, and awoke 
 happy. 
 
 I arose immediately resolving to go and talk with some 
 of the old professors. I went down stairs and prssed 
 through the room where Mrs. Barker was. Mr. Barker- 
 had just left the room, I only said " good morning" to 
 her, as I passed, and went directly to old Mr. Joshua 
 Chadbourn s. He arid his wife were eminent Christians. 
 Joseph, their son, lived with them; (he was the young 
 man with whom I was so vexed, because he cried out in 
 meeting.) I had a pleasant interview with this family, 
 and returned to Mr. Barker s about ten o clock. 
 
 I had previously engaged some men to work for me 
 that, day, and they came according to their promise; but 
 I being absent, Mr. Barker employed them for himself, 
 with a design to work for me again when I should be in 
 readiness. It had been Mrs. Barker s usual practice to 
 do her kitchen work herself, while her daughter spun; 
 but under most poignant distress of soul, she had left her 
 kitchen-work to her daughter, and went into the cham 
 ber herself. Such was the distress of her mind, howev 
 er, that she spun but very little. I very much wished to 
 see her, and to know the state of her mind; for I very 
 well knew that she was under great anxiety when I lelt 
 home. 1 went to see her, and inquired of her how she 
 
166 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 did; she replied, "Andrew, you are converted." I ask 
 ed her why she said so: said she, " as soon as I saw your 
 face this morning, I knew that you were converted; but 
 1 am damned forever! It is just as I thought it would 
 be: I had a dream not long since I thought that you 
 and Mr. Barker and myself were on a wreck at sea; and 
 that a hand was reached down and took you off, and left 
 us, and just so it is." I told her I entertained a hope 
 and peace I never possessed before. * Well," said she, 
 "I am gone forever, there is no hope for me!" " Why 
 do you talk so, Mrs. Barker," said I, "there is hope for 
 the chief of sinners." She replied, " I believe I shall 
 be left to destroy myself, and hell will be my portion; 
 there is no mercy for me. I have been afraid, the sum 
 mer past, to take a knife into the cellar to cut meat; I 
 was under such temptations to cut my own throat; and 
 in several ways I have been tempted to put a period to 
 my existence; and I really fear I shall be left to my own 
 destruction." I waited, though impatiently, to hear the 
 end of her story, and I felt as if I had authority from 
 God to reply; rny heart was enlarged and my tongue 
 was loosed, and I spoke freely to her for some time, and 
 besought her in the name of God, to desist from all such 
 presumptuous thoughts and measures; and assured her 
 that if a creature so abominably vile and polluted as I 
 had been, could be saved; certainly there might be hope 
 of her salvation. She appeared somewhat composed, and 
 I heard no more OH that subject. 
 
 I believe it was nearly a year after, before she had sat 
 isfactory evidence of her conversion. She soon after was 
 baptized and added to the church; and as far as I know, 
 remains a member of the church to this day. 
 
 Hitherto I had been very critical with professors, and 
 suspected that a considerable number of them were either 
 .sell-deceived, or hypocrites; but now I felt tender to 
 wards them all. 1 found that many of the professors had 
 long prayed (or the conversion of the young sailor; and 
 they were not a little rejoiced, that in judgment of char 
 ity he was delivered from the kingdom of darkness. 
 
 I passed this day without paying any particular atten 
 tion to my worldly bcsiness, excepting to engage two 
 
ANDREW SHERBUILNE. 167 
 
 Christian friends to work for me the next day at cutting 
 cornstalks; one of whom was a sailor by the name of 
 Aaron Hart, the other was Isaac Thompson, afterwards 
 a deacon. I welcomed the return of night, that I might 
 retire for secret prayer; and in this employment I had 
 unspeakable satisfaction. I came boldly and humbly be 
 fore the throne, and had sweet communion with my gra 
 cious and most merciful God: this gave me great en 
 couragement; and I begnn to feel confirmed in the thought 
 that however long I might live, I should never feel less in 
 clined to pray, or less happy in the employment: but 
 sad experience has long since taught, me my great mis 
 take; Little did I conceive at that time, that a perplex 
 ing trial was at hand. The next morning Mr. B. went 
 early from home upon some business, and I observed to 
 Mrs. B. that I expected some help that day, and should 
 like to get breakfast early. I took the bible into my hand 
 and sat down looking into it the same as I had very often 
 done before; little expecting such an event as immedi 
 ately followed. Mrs. B. put her tea-kettle over the fire in 
 haste, seated all her children, and. sat down herself, with 
 much gravity. I was immediately impressed with the 
 thought that she expected me to pray, and my soul be 
 gan to tremble. After sitting some time, I said to her, 
 "why do you sit down, Mrs. Barker?" she replied, "An 
 drew, are you not willing to pray with us, poor miserable 
 creatures?" I trembled, but dared not refuse. I read 
 a chapter, and with difficulty arose and took hold of a 
 chair; (it was the general practice to stand, in praying, at 
 that time.) It seemed as if the joints of my loins were loos 
 ed .1 am persuaded that if I had not had hold of the chair, 
 I should have fallen: but it seemed that I must die at my 
 post, rather than retreat. My soul was greatly straight 
 ened; but "I cied unto God with my voice, even unto God 
 with my voice, and he gave ear unto me:" and my mind 
 began to be enlarged. I felt as though I had access to 
 the throne of grace, and all my embarrassments fled. 
 But while I was thus rejoicing in God my Savior, a 
 person knocked at the door, which very much alarmed 
 me for a moment; but I was enabled to rally my powers, 
 and soon surmounted the shock, and found the exercise 
 
168 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 to be as pleasant and comforting as before. Having en 
 ded my prayer, I discovered that the person who had 
 knocked at the door, had entered the room; and proved 
 to be Mr. Aaron Hart, before mentioned; a full blooded 
 son of Neptune; an intimate friend of mine, who had re 
 cently been converted. 
 
 With tears in his eyes, he thus acccosted me, "An 
 drew, I rejoice to catch you fighting the devil. O how 
 good the Lord is to such wretched sinners as you and I 
 have been." After breakfast he accompanied me to my 
 field, where we met Thompson, before named. 1 had 
 not seen those men the preceding day, but had sent word 
 to the- in to come and help me. Thompson congratulated 
 me on the news he had heard respecting my conversion, 
 nd we spent the day very agreeably. We performed as 
 much labor as was usual, and found many intervals to talk 
 to each other of the superabounding grace and mercy of 
 God to sinners. I believe we enjoyed the fellowship of 
 the Spirit. On this day I felt what I had long desired to 
 enjoy, viz. an entire freedom to express my feelings to 
 professors of religion; and had peculiar pleasure in hear 
 ing those persons relate the exercises of their minds. 
 When night came on, we felt some reluctance in parting. 
 
 In the evening I retired for secret devotion, and was 
 very happy in the employment, and felt more and more 
 confirmed in my judgment, that the change I had expe- 
 rienceci was a real conversion. And when subsequently 
 perceiving that I did possess the least degree of inclina 
 tion to practice, m any one instance, the sins to which I 
 had been formerly addicted, I rejoiced in the anticipa 
 tion of living a life devoted entirely to the service of God, 
 whose mercy towards me had been so great, in delivering 
 me from the power of sin, and giving me such peace and 
 joy in believing. Whenever I thought of what had 
 transpired at Limerick, and of that little group of heaven 
 born souls, (as I esteemed them,) the following words of 
 Watts would occur to my mind. 
 
 " To Zion s sacred chambers, wh ere 
 M soul first drew the vital <tir." 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 169 
 
 They were to me the excellent of the earth, nor was 
 I unmindful of my promise to them. But before the 
 next week arrived, my friends, Lord and Mills, were 
 so desirous to see me, and to ascertain how I was get 
 ting along, that they came on the next Sabbath to our 
 meeting. I believe we were equally happy in meeting 
 each other; and in my turn I visited them, and spent a 
 night, and we were happy in each other s company; pas 
 sing much of our time in prayer and praise to God. On 
 my return from Limerick, I called on Humphrey Chad- 
 bourn, Esq. who then lived in the south west corner of 
 Cornish. He was recently from Berwick, and an elder 
 in the Rev. Mr. Mariam s church. Mr. Mariana was 
 one of the most evangelical ministers of the Congrega 
 tional church in that region. 
 
 This aged and eminent saint, was, by almost every 
 one who knew him, denominated "old elder Chad- 
 bourn." He had two sons who were Baptist preachers, 
 viz. Levi and William. I had been previously acquaint 
 ed with this old pilgrim, while he lived in Berwick, and 
 had great confidence in him. He was indeed one of the 
 most eminent Christians of the age. He was very af 
 fectionate; and in his address very interesting he had 
 been a professor, I think, more than fifty years. He 
 gave me some account of the early exercises of his mind 
 on the subject of religion; told several interesting anec 
 dotes; and rendered himself very agreeable to me. To 
 wards the close of the evening, "Andrew," said he, "1 
 account it my privilege to have you pray in the fami 
 ly: I will leave it with you to pray either this even 
 ing or in the morning." This gave me a severe shock, 
 and I begged to be excused; but he could not consent 
 to release me. 
 
 I had prayed but once in the presence of any person, 
 and it was an exceeding heavy trial to think of praying 
 in the presence of this old gentleman and his family. I 
 therefore deferred the task until morning; but it occa 
 sioned me some wakeful hours that night: I was alter 
 nately exercised with hopes and fears until the morning, 
 and 1 retired for secret prayer. I plead with the Lord 
 to strengthen rne to perform this duty, and when the 
 15 
 
170 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 time arrived, I commenced with fear and much trem 
 bling: but my fears very soon vanished, and I found 
 great freedom in this solemn service; and I took leave 
 of the old gentleman and his family, with geat compos 
 ure of mind. As 1 returned home, being on foot, I had 
 to go some distance through a wood not much frequent 
 ed; and being sufficiently retired, I sat down to reflect. 
 No mortal eye could behold me, but I viewed the 
 eye of Omnipotence to be upon me. I inquired, 
 ami indeed a child of God? am I a real Christian? 
 Then my life is just begun. But is this certain beyond 
 a doubt? How am I to know that I shall be saved at 
 last ? That an important change had taken place in me 7 
 1 could not doubt. I knew that I detested sin, and that 
 I felt a love to God, so far as I knew him; and that I 
 fejt in my heart, good will to men. 
 
 I endeavored to take a view of my life, and could not 
 but admire the good hand of providence that protected 
 and guided me all my days. I was astonished that I 
 had been preserved, when so many of my shipmates had 
 fallen a prey to death. I reviewed the two years of 
 painful anxiety I had felt, inconsequence of my lost and 
 condemned condition. I wondered at the forbearance 
 of heaven towards so polluted a wretch as I had been; 
 and I thought I ielt truly grateful to God for his long 
 suffering towards me, and especially for the rich dis 
 plays of his pardoning rnercy to my soul. 
 
 While thus reviewing the scenes of life, some of my 
 partner? in iniquity came into my view. I had no rea 
 son to think they were converted; and I was conscious 
 that in many instances I had prompted them to sin; and 
 that 1 had been a ringleader in iniquity. I felt my bow 
 els yearn for them, and could not but plead with God 
 that he would save them. I could have given worlds, 
 had they been at my disposal, if 1 had never occasioned 
 others to sin. 
 
 At this time the doctrine of election carne to my mind, 
 and I felt constrained to give il an investigation. This 
 doctrine had very much troubled me, yea,~even disgust 
 ed me, as I have already mentioned. I could never 
 really disbelieve it; but I was vexed that the scriptures 
 ^hould contain such a doctrine. I could not now com- 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 171 
 
 prehend it, but had no murmuring in my heart against 
 it. From this 1 was led to contemplate the being and 
 nature of Deity; and with reverence and humility, re 
 flected on his attributes and works, until 1 was lost in 
 astonishment. The language of Zophar, in Job xi, 7, 
 10, would well apply in this case: "Canst thou by 
 searching find out God? canst ihou find out the Amigh- 
 ty to perfection? It is as high as heaven, what canst 
 thou do? deeper than hell, what canst thou know ? The 
 measure thereof is longer than the earth, and broader 
 than the sea. If he cut off and shut up, or gather to 
 gether, who can hinder him.? And that saying also of 
 Paul s; "For the invisible things of him from the crea 
 tion of the world, are clearly seen, being understood by 
 the things that are made, even his eternal power and 
 Godhead." Romans i, 20. 
 
 The substance of those scriptures I believe was at 
 that time impressed on my mind by the power of the Ho 
 ly Spirit. 1 was laid low at the foot of divine sovereign 
 ty, and was enabled to leave all with God, and pray for 
 his protection and direction. 1 rejoiced that I felt recon 
 ciled to God, in the enjoyment of a peace that the world 
 had never given me. Having spent some time in this 
 lonely retreat, I thought proper to pursue my journey. 
 I walked slowly, tranquil, and alone; but again those 
 who had been my contemporaries in sin, came up to my 
 mind. It appears to me, that if a brother should see a 
 brother, or a parent a child, doomed to perpetual slavery 
 or the gallows, they could not feel more anxiety for their 
 release, than at that time I felt for the salvation of my 
 fellow sinners. As 1 was pursuing my way homeward, 
 before I was aware of the train of my thoughts, I was, in 
 imagination, addressing an assembly on the importance 
 of religion, and had gone some length before I detected 
 mysel 1 then felt disposed to chide myself, as being 
 on forbidden ground; and endeavored to employ my mind 
 on some other subject; but before I was aware, my mind 
 had drifted on to the same ground again. This occa 
 sioned me some trial, and led me to endeavor to suppress 
 every thing of this nature. It was some trial that this 
 subject would occur to my mind in my secret devotions 
 
172 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 No portions of my time passed more satisfactorily, 
 than those which were employed in secret prayer. I 
 believe I may say for weeks, at least I may say ior many 
 days together, I met with no embarrassment in this im 
 portant exercise. 
 
 As I write altogether from memory, (and that I find 
 to be very much impaired,) I cannot be so particular as 
 I could wish. I soon found trials and perplexities, that 
 I never expected; consequently I was not prepared for 
 them. I lost that sweet frame of mind, and that ferven 
 cy before the throne, which I had not once suspected 
 would ever abate. But alas! I found my mistake. 1 
 found myself in darkness, and sinking in despondency. 
 I had scarcely confidence sufficient to come before the 
 throne of grace, and the greatest desire I had to see 
 Christians, was to inform them that I was a hypocrite; 
 and that so far as they had entertained any favorable 
 hopes of me, they were also deceived. In my own judg 
 ment, I had made no higher attainment in the Christian 
 religion, than a way-side or stony-ground hearer; and I 
 very much regretted that it was noised abroad thaf Sher- 
 burne was converted." I seemed, most of all, to regret 
 that my Limerick friends were so much deceived; and 
 felt myself under special obligation to go and see them, 
 for the express purpose of undeceiving them, and actu 
 ally set out for that end, with a determination that noth 
 ing should divert me from my purpose. 
 
 I went a mile or two out of my way, to see Levi Chad- 
 bourn, (supposing that the old elder was at that time in 
 Berwick.) I found him at work in his field, and readily 
 told him my condition and my business. He observed 
 that it was in vain to go to Limerick on such an errand; 
 that they would not believe me; that it was noised ail 
 round the country, and that it was of no consequence to 
 try to make people believe otherwise. He thought it 
 not strange, however, for young converts to have such 
 fears, and that Satan insinuated such things in their 
 minds. He prevailed with me to go to the house and 
 stay all ni;ht, (as it was near sun down,) and have some 
 talk with his father, who had lately returned from Ber 
 wick. To this I consented; for however little I thought 
 of my own piety, I had a high value for Christians. 
 
.I(U-H 4 IS 
 
 Just as we reached the house, Wenworth Lord, an 
 
 ANDREW SHERBURXE. 
 
 other Baptist preacher, called there. He nrade but a 
 short stop, but took opportunity to talk a little with me; 
 he having heard something of my case. He seemed 
 anxious to comfort me; and in parting with me, he in a 
 very solemn and impressive manner repeated a part of 
 the 77th hymn of the 2d book of Watts, 
 
 "Stand up my soul, shake off* thy fears, 
 And gild the gospel armor on." 
 
 This seemed to relieve my mind a little; but I was yet 
 in great darkness. Levi having given his father some 
 account of my situation, after we were seated, the old 
 gentleman began to make some inquiries of me why 1 
 had made it up in my mind that I was a hypocrite. I told 
 him my simple story, and waited for some reply. The 
 old gentleman observed that it was many years since he 
 entertained a hope in Christ, and he could not say but 
 that he had more than once suspected himself to be a 
 hypocrite. "I have long since concluded," said he, 
 that hypocrites were very dishonest people, and that 
 they wished to deceive. 1 must therefore confess, An 
 drew, that if you are a hypocrite, you are, in my judg 
 ment, as honest a hypocrite as I ever saw. 1 
 
 He then went on to make a number of appropriate re 
 marks and observations; such as that the Christian s 
 journey through this world was a warfare, and that it was 
 through much tribulation they were to enter the kingdom ; 
 and that if need be, they should be in heaviness through 
 manifold temptations, for the trial of their faith, &c. &c. 
 He also recited many of the promises contained in the 
 scriptures, for the encouragement of the weak and tempt 
 ed. In a word, he was the good Samaritan, pouring in 
 oil and wine. After this interview, I indulged a hope 
 that I was not a hypocrite in this matter, although I might 
 be but a way-side or a stony ground hearer. I was con 
 fident I had feigned nothing in this thing. The reader 
 will easily discover how dark was my understanding in 
 regard to hypocrisy. On the next day, (being the Sab 
 bath,) I accompanied Levi Chadbourn to Limerickj 
 where he was to preach that day. 
 15* 
 
174 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Without hesitation, I gave my friends a particular ac 
 count of what had passed within me. They all appeared 
 to sympathize with me, and were forward to encourage 
 and strengthen me. I tarried all night and most of the 
 next day with them. We had a pleasant interview, and 
 I found my mind in some measure relieved from the em 
 barrassments under which, ibr some time, 1 had been la 
 boring; but I never again attained to such an uninter 
 rupted joy and consolation, as 1 at fnst enjoyed, for sev 
 eral weeks together. I diligently improved my time in 
 reading, (especially the bible,) attending meetings, and 
 conversing with Christian friends. I paid an especial 
 attention to preaching ; and when meditating alone, would 
 frequently, ere I was aware, find myself in imagination 
 addressing an assembly. 
 
 It would generally depress my spirits, when I realized 
 what my thoughts were upon. Eventually, I discovered 
 a strange conflict in my own mind. I sometimes feared 
 that I should be compelled "to preach to the people," 
 but I felt as incompetent to the task, as one would feel to 
 discharge a debt of thousands of dollars with merely a 
 small handful of change. At other times, I would secret 
 ly wish to be engaged in that delightful employment. 
 My impressions at that time were, that no one couid, 
 without the utmost presumption, engage in that service, 
 unless he had evidence as certain of his being called of 
 God, as he hadofpossessing the sense of seeing or hearing. 
 
 This subject would almost constantly come into my 
 mind, when I attempted to pray in secret; and I have of 
 ten prayed to God that he would prevent such thoughts. 
 I have often suspected that Satan presented them to my 
 mind. Whatever spirit it might be that dictated them, 
 they were certainly, on these occasions, unwelcome to 
 me; but I did not dare to communicate those thoughts 
 to any friend whatever. For a time, I thought all my sin 
 ful propensities were subdued; but I now discovered my 
 mistake, for I was harrassed with the fear of man, and I 
 readily discovered that I should not be troubled with this, 
 if pride was entirely dislodged from my heart. 1 discov 
 ered by degrees, that t had to contend with all those sins 
 under which I had previously been held in bondage. I 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 175 
 
 could, without hesitation say, with the apostle Paul, " that 
 in me (that is in my flesh) dwelleth no good thing;" and 
 with the prophet Jeremiah, u that the heart is deceitful 
 above all things, and desperately wicked." 1 found that 
 if 1 would live a godly life, I must wrestle against princi 
 palities, and powers, and spiritual wickedness in high pla 
 ces. I endeavored to watch with care, and pray in sin 
 cerity ; and yet, on examination, I found myself remiss 
 in those important duties: and yet I could not dives-t my 
 self of impressions about preaching. I sometimes re 
 gretted that I was so deficient in education; again I 
 would query whether if 1 had an education, 1 might not 
 adventure to go forward without being called of (Jod, as 
 was Aaron; for it appeared to me, at that time, that it 
 was next to the unpardonable sin for one to engage in 
 that office, unless ne were absolutely called of God. 
 
 It was about two months after I entertained a hope, 
 say about the middle of November, 1789, I experienced 
 a most distressing trial. "An horror of great darkness 
 fell upon me." 1 was exceedingly dejected, and I very 
 much feared that 1 was altogether deceived in regard to 
 my state. I could not compose my mind to read or to 
 pray; and for a while I wandered from place to place as 
 one half distracted. At length I went into the barn, went 
 up on the top of the hay, which was considerably above 
 the beam, and in this retired situation I endeavored to 
 examine myself. I prayed for the kind interposition of 
 the Holy Spirit, to teach me what I was, and what he 
 would have me to do; and even in chisglooomy and rest 
 less condition, I had perplexities in my mind respecting 
 preaching. I seemed to myself to be one of the most 
 inconsistent of all beings; for I was at this time doubtful 
 whether I was a Christian. 
 
 Having spent some hours in prayers and tears, with 
 out any satisfactory relief, I went to the house, and hav 
 ing occasion to minute something in my account book, I 
 took up my pen, and having written what I intended, there 
 being a half sheet of loose paper lying in my book, a 
 question arose in my mind whether I could, without hes 
 itation, write a verse of poetry. The thought was im 
 mediately urged upon my mind whether, if I could write 
 
176 ME3IOIRS OF 
 
 a verse without stopping to reflect, and that the matter 
 should be sound and consistent in my own judgment, i 
 should take it for an evidence that I was a Christian ? 
 but I dared not to pitch upon this mode. I feared that it 
 was rather tempting the Lord. I thought, however, of 
 Gideon s fleece; and I felt almost impatient to make the 
 attempt. 
 
 I wrote a verse very readily, and stopped a moment 
 to examine it. I thought it consistent and sound, and 1 
 was pleased that I had not rested the decision of my case 
 upon it, as it might be but by accident I had written it. 
 1 then queried whether I could write another: I pro 
 ceeded and wrote until night overtook me. 
 
 At the time to which I refer, a young man who could 
 read tolerably well without spelling, (accent, emphasis, 
 cadence and punctuation out of the question,) write a le 
 gible hand and cypher through the double rule of three, 
 was considered as having had a good education; and in 
 deed the number thus educated was comparatively small, 
 except in the more populous towns and villages. To 
 such an education I had also added some knowledge of 
 geometry. 
 
 At that time, a knowledge of English grammar was 
 not considered a prerequisite for a teacher of our com 
 mon country schools. I had therefore an opportunity of 
 being employed in a school at Limerick, in the winter of 
 1789 90. I had then just entered my twenty-fifth 
 year. It was peculiarly pleasant to be situated among 
 my particular friends in this town. 
 
 About this time Hart s Hymns were put into my 
 hands. One of these hymns, on the subject of pride, 
 much excited my attention, and the following lines more 
 particularly. 
 
 " Against its influence pray ; 
 
 It mingles with the prayer ; 
 
 Against it preach ;. it prompts the speech ; 
 
 Be silent, still its there. 
 
 This moment, while I write, 
 
 T feel its power within, 
 
 My heart it draws to seek applause, 
 
 And mixes all with sin." 
 
ANDREW 3HEREURNS. 177 
 
 I ascertained that great and good men were not alto 
 gether free from pride, in their own estimation. I thert- 
 ibro need not think it strange, if 1 still discovered its re 
 mains in my own heart. 
 
 While I was engaged in this school at Limerick, an 
 aifecting circumstance occurred in the neighborhood. A 
 Mrs. Gilpatrick, the wife of Joseph Gilpatrick, Esq. 
 went to bed at the usual hour, in health. Some time in 
 the night, she awoke, rose up in her bed, and said to her 
 husband, " I am dying !" arid expired immediately. 
 
 Death in such a country, where the people are com 
 paratively few, excites much more general sympathy than 
 death in a more populous region. Mrs. G. was of an 
 amiable character, and was much lamented. The la 
 mentations of her family and connexions at the funeral, 
 were such as do not often occur. 
 
 This circumstance induced me to write a number of 
 verses, addressed to Esquire G. and his children. I have 
 since, on different occasions, written a few verses, but I 
 must confess that when I review them, they in general 
 appear so defective, and as there is an abundance of good 
 poetry in circulation, that my mind sickens at the thought 
 of presenting them to the public. I am very confident 
 that they cannot afford much gratification to persons of 
 refined taste and education, and yet I am aware that 
 there may be a certain class of readers to whom such 
 productions would be more acceptable, and probably as 
 instructive as the productions of learned and flowery 
 writers. 
 
 A learned speaker or writer may probably assure him 
 self that if his writings or addresses are exhibited in such 
 a style as to be fully understood by the more unlearned 
 readers or hearers, he will not be as much admired by a 
 very large proportion of the learned. 
 
 It will be granted, I presume, that the number is far too 
 small, who, regardless of the applause or flatteries of their 
 fellow worms, or their own reputation, are willing to en 
 dure frowns and censure for the truth s sake. We well 
 know that man is an aspiring being, and we know also 
 that our bounds are set, and that we cannot pass them. 
 Whatever, therefore, may have been our attainments in 
 
i?3 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 literature, fume, riches or grace, it will be no injury to us 
 to look astern on our wake, aod notice what we were ten, 
 twenty, or forty years ago. 
 
 The apostle Paul, alter he had made great acquisi 
 tions in wisdom and humility, recollected that when 
 he was a child, he spake as a child, he understood 
 as a child, and thought as a child; nor did he for - 
 get that he had been injurious to the cause of Jesus 
 Christ, that he had kept the raiment of those who stoned 
 Stephen to death, that he had persecuted the saints in 
 every synagogue, and had caused many of them to blas 
 pheme. 
 
 With the apostle, doubtless, those several circum 
 stances were so many incentives to humility and self- 
 abasement before his God, as long as he lived. 
 
 But I discover that I am steering wide from my orig 
 inal design. I had at first purposed to say all that I 
 should say of myself, in about two hundred pages, 12mo. 
 but 1 have already written considerably more than one 
 hundred and fifty pages, and there yet being near forty 
 years of my life to narrate, I perceive that I must be 
 more concise, or I shall swell my book much beyond my 
 first intention. 
 
 To return to my narrative: I should have observed 
 that before I commenced my school in Limerick, I 
 made a journey to Portsmouth, to see my mother, sisters 
 and other relatives. I had seen none of them; nor had 
 I made any communication to them since I had enter 
 tained a hope that I was converted. 
 
 I was not vet baptized, but was an advocate for im 
 mersion. I could not but communicate to them the rea 
 son of my hope, and I trust with " meekness and fear." 
 But it seemed to them like an idle tale. Most of them 
 were disgusted with my principles. 
 
 I visited the family of my uncle, Samuel Sherburne, 
 on the plain which I have before mentioned. I had al 
 ways felt a peculiar veneration for this place, which had 
 been the residence of so large a number of my ancestors, 
 whose remains were deposited in an extensive family 
 burying-ground, on my uncle s land near his house. My 
 father s remains were brought from the town and depos- 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 179 
 
 itcdhere a few years before, while I was a captive in 
 Charleston, S. C. 
 
 Here I had a number of cousins, both male and fe 
 male, about my age, who had always treated me with 
 peculiar affection, and who with profound attention and 
 deep sympathy, had formerly heard me narrate the par 
 ticulars of my voyages, imprisonments, &c. .But at this 
 time, I could not join them in that hilarity which had 
 heretofore marked our pleasant interviews. It was deep 
 ly impressed on me to tell them frankly what a state my 
 mind had been in, and what I trusted the Lord had 
 done for my soul. They sat aghast for a while, but 
 when they ascertained that I was in sentiment a Bap 
 tist, they seemed to regret that I was inclined to depart 
 from the tradition of my fathers. 
 
 In my uncle Furbur s family, with which I had been 
 equally intimate, I met about the same reception. There 
 was not at that time, to my knowledge, a single Baptist 
 member in all the town of Portsmouth or any of the ad 
 jacent towns; I was therefore a kind of phenomenon 
 among my friends and acquaintance. 
 
 I have the happiness, however, to hope that the great 
 est past of those families, my own included,) have since 
 that time become real Christians; but a large proportion 
 of them have gone the way " from whence no traveller 
 returns." 
 
 A part of my business at Portsmouth was to visit Miss 
 Jane Muchamore, to whom I had paid my addresses for 
 several years, and should have married her long before 
 this time, had it not been for our poverty. Her father, 
 Mr. Nathaniel Muchamore, died about the time that 
 my father died. He had been in easy circumstances, 
 but misfortunes, together with his lingering in consump 
 tion a number of years, reduced his family to poverty. 
 
 His widow was a pious woman; she was one of 
 Whitfield s conveits. She was a member of the first 
 Congregational church, of which Samuel Haven, D. D. 
 was at that time pastor. In mv previous visits, while I 
 was under conviction, I had discovered something of 
 my feelings to this good old lady and her daughter; it 
 seemed to be highly gratifying to the old lady, but her 
 
180 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 daughter, like Gallio, cared for none of these tilings, 
 But on this visit 1 found that Jane was under great anx 
 iety of mind; a circumstance, which to her mother and 
 myself was very pleasant. 
 
 My brother Samuel, (who had been at work by the 
 month, in Cornish,) and myself had resolved to remove 
 my mother and the smaller children into the country. 
 House rent and fire wood saddled a heavy bill on us and 
 kept us poor. We accordingly took her into the coun 
 try which was much to our advantage. 
 
 In the spring of the year 1 790, after I had finished my 
 school in Limerick, and before the spring work com 
 menced, I made a circuitous journey to Portsmouth, 
 through Epping, Exeter, New Market, and Strotham. 
 In several of those towns there had been recent revivals 
 of religion; and I was desirous to form some acquain 
 tance with the young converts. I had a number of very 
 pleasant interviews with babes in Christ, and older pro 
 fessors, and found my mind considerably strengthened. 
 When I came to Portsmouth, I was extremely gratified 
 to find there was a revival in that place. It was prin 
 cipally confined to the Rev. Joseph Walton s society; 
 his church enjoyed some of the most edifying meetings 
 in this place, I had ever realized. 
 
 I crossed the ferry into Kittery, where another revival 
 had recently commenced. In this place I spent about 
 two days in going from house to house, accompanied by- 
 young converts who appeared to be zealously engaged 
 in their Master s cause. These were happy days with 
 me. We parted with our feelings much excited, com 
 mending each other to God and, the word of his grace. 
 
 As I journeyed homeward, on foot and alone, I re 
 viewed the pleasing seasons I had passed, and I was 
 much gratified in my interview. 
 
 In Juno, 1790, I attended the New-Hampshire asso 
 ciation. This was the first association I had ever attend 
 ed. I had the gratification of hearing the venerable 
 Dr. ITezokiah Smith, whose preaching so much affect 
 ed me in Cornish. 
 
 The people in Kittery made application to the associ 
 ation for some supply in preaching; and Elder Simon 
 Locke was appointed to visit them in August. 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 181 
 
 My health was so poor that season, that I could do 
 but little work, and I proposed to accompany elder Locke 
 to Kittery, and to make a visit to Portsmouth. 
 
 I will now bring to view several subjects which occa 
 sioned me much perplexity, viz. baptism, close com 
 munion, the Lord s supper, and preaching. 
 
 I had paid such particular attention to the ]N T ew Tes 
 tament, on the subject of baptism, that I was perfectly 
 satisfied that none were proper subjects of this ordi 
 nance, but such as believed in Jesus Christ to the sav 
 ing of their souls, and were capable of answering a good 
 conscience toward God. When I inquired of myself 
 why I did not go forward, I many times screened my- 
 self under a doubt whether I was a real Christian; and 
 even when such doubts subsided, yet the cross was so 
 great, that it seemed I could not possibly do my duty, 
 without some powerful impulse of the mind. But in re 
 gard to the manner, there was no question. 
 
 As yet I had riot as particularly investigated the sub 
 ject of communion as I had that of baptism. I devoted 
 myself to the sudy of this subject, and was satisfied that 
 it was an ordinance of Christ, which Christians should 
 practice,- In respect to close communion, although the 
 scriptures said nothing expressly on the subject, I could 
 not but question whether any had a right to partake of 
 the Lord s supper, until they were immersed. I could 
 not conceive that Baptists were the only real Christians, 
 as I was fully satisfied that there were Congregational- 
 ists who were as really pious, as were the Baptists. 
 With other denominations I had no acquaintance. 
 
 With regard to preaching, it was a matter not yet to 
 be decided: whether it will ever be decided in time, I 
 shall not now undertake to say. 
 
 Having ascertained from elder Locke, the time he 
 would start for Kittery, I called on him the day previous 
 to his starting, in order to have his company. I had a 
 very pleasant interview with him and his amiable con 
 sort. 
 
 On the morrow we commenced our journey to Kitte 
 ry Point, where he was to preach on the following day, 
 which was the Sabbath. Here we ascertained that 
 16 
 
182 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 there were a number of candidates for baptism. I left 
 him at Kittery Point and took passage to Portsmouth; 
 and to my inexpressible joy, I found Miss Jane Mucha- 
 more a bright and happy convert. Her mother had 
 comparatively renewed her youth, as the eagles. I be 
 lieve we enjoyed unsullied Christian communion, but I 
 was so much attached to elder Locke and the converts 
 at Kittery, that I must spend the Sabbath with them, and 
 accordingly I returned to Kittery on Sabbath morning. 
 It was concluded to have the ordinance of baptism on 
 Monday, and the meeting was appointed at 31 r. E. 
 Hutchkins . 
 
 His brother, Mr. S. Hutchkins, was one of the princi 
 pal citizens of Portsmouth, and one of Mr. Walton s so 
 ciety. I having returned to Portsmouth on Sabbath ev 
 ening, and given notice of the intended meeting on 
 Monday, Mr. H. had the politeness to have a boat and 
 hands to row it, and take his daughter, Miss Mucha- 
 more, who was now a member of Mr. Walton s church, 
 and myself, to Kittery, to attend this meeting. 
 
 While Mr. Locke was preaching, I felt my mind very 
 powerfully impressed with the idea, that it was my duty 
 tq be baptized. The impression was so powerful that I 
 was confident I must speak as soon as there was an op 
 portunity. 
 
 He had no sooner closed his sermon, than I arose. 
 I felt as if I had authority from God to speak unto the 
 people. I was much animated, and spoke with the ut 
 most ease, for the space of ten or filteen minutes. I 
 then told them what God had graciously done for rne 
 and offered myself for baptism. 
 
 When I commenced speaking, Miss M. according to 
 her own generous confession, felt as she supposed Mi 
 chael felt when David danced before the ark. Her feel 
 ings were exceedingly wounded because I had not ap 
 prised her of my design to be baptized; but indeed I had 
 not the remotest thought of it myself, until after Mr. 
 Locke had commenced his sermon. 
 
 Before I had done speaking, her prejudice was remov 
 ed; and when she saw me baptized, it so affected her 
 that she could not stand. Miss Hutchkins, Miss Much- 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 183 
 
 I 
 
 amore. and many others in that congregation who had 
 never seen the ordinance administered before, after 
 wards became Baptists. 
 
 Having returned to P. the next day, we had a visit 
 from father Walton. The good man was quite unrec 
 onciled to what had taken place. He told me he be 
 lieved I was deceived, and that he expected I would 
 deceive Jane also. It may be thought that in our cir 
 cumstances, this must be somewhat unpleasant lo our 
 feelings. 
 
 I seriously gave him the reasons for my conduct. 
 He shortly became quite composed, gave us much good 
 instruction, exhorted us to adorn our profession, and 
 gave us his blessing. 
 
 I shortly after fell in company with deacon Moses, of 
 Mr. Walton s church. The old gentleman very deli 
 cately introduced the same subject: he said he expected 
 I would take Jane into the country with me among the 
 Baptists, and he intimated that he thought it likely that 
 my influence would induce her to become a Baptist also. 
 I had before this resolved never to use any influence, di 
 rectly or indirectly, to induce her to become a Baptist. 
 I told the deacon that this was my determination; that 
 I had myself been very much opposed to the Baptists, 
 and that no mortal s influence had ever induced me to 
 become a Baptist. 
 
 She shortly after this became my wife, and about five 
 years after she voluntarily became a Baptist, and was al 
 ways treated with marked attention by Mr. W. and his 
 church. 
 
 By this time I had purchased ten acres of good land, 
 had about half of it under improvement, and had made 
 some provision for building a small house; but my con 
 stitution was so enfeebled that I could not perform half 
 the labor that other men in general could. For three 
 summers in succession, I was laid up for a considerable 
 time in consequence of hard labor. I was also consid 
 erably in debt. Discouraging as these circumstances 
 were, my spirits in general were good; for contrasting 
 my condition with what it had before bcefi, while gather 
 ing muscles on the muscle ban]\s in, Charleston, - 
 
184 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ing my little bark on alee shore, on the coast of New 
 foundland, in a violent gale of wind my perilous condi 
 tion among the breakers on the shore of Cape St. Mary s, 
 &c. I saw that 1 had abundant reason to be thankful. 
 
 I had a firm footing on the peaceful shores of indepen 
 dence and liberty, located in the midst of a friendly and 
 pious society, enjoying the confidence and possessing 
 the suffrages of my townsmen, and above all entertan- 
 ing a hope of eternal life through the merits of the Sav 
 ior. Yet while in the body, industry, enterprise, perse 
 verance and economy are requisite, in order that we 
 may be useful to ourselves and one another. 
 
 I finally succeeded in getting my mother and little 
 sisters under my own roof, covered with slabs. Our 
 meetings were holden in private houses; my doors were 
 opened, and it was my privilege to have preaching in 
 my house the first Sabbath day after we moved into it. 
 My mind had been some time tried in reference to fam 
 ily worship, for my mother was not at that time a pro 
 fessor of religion. I however commenced the exercise, 
 and the trial subsided. 
 
 I kept house with my mother several months before 
 I moved my wife home. By this time I had formed some 
 acquaintance in the adjacent towns, and as the 
 Baptists of that age and region, were much in 
 the habit of " assembling themselves together," and 
 " speaking often one to another," I enjoyed many 
 precious opportunities at their fire sides, though gener 
 ally in log cabins. Many of them, however, were more 
 comfortable than my unfinished frame building 
 
 There were some difficulties however, when thev call 
 ed on me to stay over night. My mother had but two 
 beds, and my wife but one. She had bedding, however, 
 sufficient for two, and we had a spare straw bed, which 
 we in cold weather, placed before a good fire, and our 
 guest would find himself perfectly accommodated. If 
 among our guests there were females, I could cheerfully 
 stretch myself on a straw bed, by the fire, and reflect 
 how much more comfortably situated I was than when 
 lying on the cold deck of the old Jersey, or in the filthy 
 bunks of her hospital ships. 
 
ANDREW SHERBtTRN EV I85> 
 
 I cannot easily express how much satisfaction I deriv- . 
 cd from such company, I was exceedingly fond of hav 
 ing preachers call on me, though desirous to he in cir 
 cumstances to afford them better accommodations. 
 
 1 much wished to set up an ashery, as there was none 
 very near me, and potash was in pretty good demand at 
 that time; but I had no capital to commence with. Jo- 
 siah Pearce, Esq. of Fiiritstown, (now Baldwin) a half 
 brother to the celebrated Count Rumford, was at that 
 time doing considerable business in the mercantile line. 
 He supplied me with goods; he was to be at half the ex 
 pense of the building, &c. and was to share the profits 
 with rne. We had the misfortune to break a number of 
 kettles, and make some bad debts. My circumstances 
 were such that I became a considerable debtor myself. 
 
 After a number of years, I having made acquaintance 
 in Portland, in consequence of a reformation- taking 
 place there, obtained goods on my own credit. I believe 
 I continued in this business nearly ten years, until I com 
 menced preaching in the year J801. As I have no doc 
 uments to assist my memory, I shall as concisely as is 
 practicable, bring up my history to the date last men 
 tioned. 
 
 My uncle Weyrnouth was one of the most influential 
 men in the place. He was always in my opinion partial 
 towards me, manifested great sympathy towards me in 
 consequence of my ill health, and seemed more disposed 
 to use his influence for my promotion to office in the 
 plantation or town, than to sustain those offices himself. 
 While the place was yet a plantation by the name of 
 Francisboro , there was a military company organized,, 
 and my uncle was chosen captain. I never possessed 
 much military taste after I went to sea, but to gratify 
 him, I accepted the station of first sergeant and clerk of 
 the company. This was the highest my military promo 
 tion ever reached; and this office I got rid of as soon as 
 circumstances would admit; for after having the offices 
 of town clerk and one of the select men conferred on me, 
 I was exempt from military duty. Indeed my uncle had 
 no military taste, he accepted the captaincy rather from 
 necessity than from choice, and resigned as soon as he 
 could, 16* 
 
186 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 With proper reflections we may see that a gracious 
 and wise Providence often causes much good to grow 
 out of an evil. Had I not been drawn or carried through 
 the distressing scenes which I have already related, and 
 been lodged in Old Mill prison, I had probably never ac 
 quired an education sufficient to have sustained those 
 offices, and to have performed the business which has 
 proved so profitable to me. 
 
 I am inclined to think that there is not one instance in 
 a hundred, if there is one in ten thousand, in which after 
 a lad arrives to the age of seventeen, entirely without a 
 knowledge of the arts of writing and arithmetic, he ever 
 attains to those arts. 
 
 I will notice a circumstance which eventually operated 
 much in my favor. The county of York was the oldest 
 county in Maine, and at the time I first went into the 
 country, it extended probably eighty miles from the sea 
 into the country. The court house and jail were in the 
 extreme southwest angle of the county, in the town of 
 Old York, within a mile of the sea., and about nine miles 
 from Portsmouth, N. H. To the south west of a right 
 line from York to Portsmouth, is a triangular piece of 
 land, extending southerly, (including a part of York and 
 a part of Kittery) ten or fifteen miles, bounded on the 
 west by the Piscataqua river, and on the east by that 
 part of the ocean called Wells Bay. 
 
 As the country was increasing rapidly in population, 
 and the public buildings were decaying, it was foreseen 
 that public buildings must shortly be erected either in 
 York or some other place. 
 
 A considerable number of the most influential persons 
 in the county addressed a circular to the several towns, 
 inviting them to appoint delegates to meet at Berwick, 
 to take into consideration the interest of the county in 
 regard to the public buildings. The town of Cornish 
 appointed me as their delegate, but restricted me with 
 respect to the county site. Most of the large towns 
 sent three or four delegates; a number of other towns as 
 well as Cornish, restricted the power of their represen 
 tatives in their instructions. 
 
 When convened, there were probably sixty in number, 
 
ANDREW SHERBURiXE. 187 
 
 including a considerable number of the most respectable 
 civil and military officers in the county. General John 
 Frost, late of the revolutionary army, was called to the 
 chair, and Daniel Sewall, Ksq. clerk of the county court, 
 was appointed Secretary. 
 
 I presume I was the youngest person in the company, 
 and an entire stranger to almost every one present, and 
 being sensible of my want of experience and talents, I 
 resolved that my communications should be restricted to 
 " yea, yea, nay, nay." 
 
 It was natural to suppose that the delegates from 
 York and its vicinity, would do all they could to keep 
 the courts at York, but it was soon discovered that we 
 had a party also for Kennebunk, another for Bruns 
 wick, a fourth for Alfred, and a fifth for Waterborough. 
 Moreover some of the members being restricted, as has 
 been already mentioned, it was easy to see that nothing 
 could be done at present, to give any thing like general 
 satisfaction. 
 
 It was an object, however, for the several parties to 
 sound each others intentions. Some {rentlemen endeav 
 ored to mature the business, while others were for pro 
 crastinating every proposal which was made. A Mr. N. 
 who had been an officer in the army, and more recently 
 a member of the Legislature, was extremely loquacious. 
 He frequently contended that this or the other measure 
 was " unparliamentary ." I was sufficiently vexed at 
 this gentleman s criticisms and sophistry, and was very 
 anxious that some one more capable than myself should 
 make some reply to his quibbles. 
 
 To me it appeared, that there had been much time al 
 ready wasted, and feeling an especial responsibility to my 
 constituents, and a wish to secure their confidence, and 
 being wearied with Mr. N s. long and continued speech 
 es, I thought I would make an attempt to bring our dis 
 cussions to a close. 
 
 I therefore arose and addressed the chair, observing 
 to the President, that to me it appeared we were not at 
 tending strictly to the business for which we had been 
 convened, that I came there with the impression that 
 our only business was (if we could agree,) to fix upon a 
 
188 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 suitable site for our county buildings. That the thought 
 had never entered my mind that any part of our business 
 was to decide upon " parliamentary" measures; I thought 
 we had been sufficiently oppressed by such measures, 
 and did not feel any great degree of deference towards 
 them, and as we had become independent of them, it 
 was to be lamented, if we could not transact the business 
 then before us, without spending so much time in listen 
 ing to the gentleman who last spoke, in learning what 
 was or what was not "parliamentary;" but that inas 
 much as in my instructions from my constituents I was 
 restricted, and this being the case with a number of oth 
 er members, I thought it was requisite that we should 
 dissolve or adjourn to some future period. 
 
 These observations eventually led to a resolution to 
 address a circular to the inhabitants, and to adjourn to 
 the same place. The zeal and decision manifested in 
 making the foregoing observations, excited the attention 
 of the members generally, and some more especially, as 
 I shall have occasion to mention hereafter. 
 
 I am aware that by this time the reader will be inclin 
 ed to conclude that the writer has paid himself a com 
 pliment. 1 readily acknowledge that it is not always 
 prudent, or perhaps safe, for a person to speak or write 
 his own feats or performances, but according to Frank 
 lin, it is a peculiar trait in the character of old men. As 
 the writer has gone far down the declivity of life, he 
 would request his readers to admit this circumstance as 
 his apology. I venture to say that it is rather difficult 
 for one who writes a narrative of himself, when he re 
 views the great variety of circumstances which have at 
 tended him in the space of forty or fifty years, if he pos 
 sesses but a moderate degree of sensibility, to avoid say 
 ing more of himself than is strictly compatible with his 
 own feelings, and he will most probably appear, at least, 
 in some degree, as an egotist in the view of others. 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 189 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Engages to survey a, township First son born Narrow 
 ly escapes drowning in Mad river Lotted out the town 
 ship of Success in N. H. He is Agent for the Bap 
 tists in Limington Becomes acquainted with Dr. 
 Baldwin Baptist petition not granted Baptists and 
 others succeed in obtaining relief Manner of carry 
 ing on meetings Reformation in Portland -Trials 
 about Preaching. 
 
 To return to my narrative: The acquaintance which 
 I formed with the principal persons of the county, through 
 the medium of this convention, occasioned my appoint 
 ment by an order of the court, to survey several tracts of 
 land, the titles of which were in dispute in the county 
 courts; I was also appointed an agent of one of the prin 
 cipal proprietors of the town. 
 
 All these circumstances I viewed as so many acts of 
 divine Providence, in my favor; as my constitution was 
 so impaired that I could perform but little manual labor, 
 the emoluments arising from those little offices, in some 
 measure supplied that defect. 
 
 My brother and myself found it to our advantage in re 
 moving my mother and sisters from Portsmouth to the 
 country. After a few years, the girls were able to sup 
 port themselves; we were nevertheless embarrassed in 
 our circumstances. 
 
 We found it difficult to raise money to pay for our 
 land. I had yet several sisters in Portsmouth, one was 
 married. My mother became discontented, as aged peo 
 ple generally are when removed to a strange place. 
 
 I was therefore under the necessity of providing a 
 horse and taking her to Portsmouth. At the time", I 
 thought this a hardship; but a kind Providence overruled 
 it very much to my advantage; it being at a season of the 
 year when our work in the country demanded attention. 
 I then did not calculate to make a visit of more than a 
 day or two at the most. 
 
 I happened to fall in company with Mr. Joseph Akar- 
 
190 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 man, a respectable citizen of Portsmouth, with whom I 
 lind but little acquaintance. This gentleman seemed to 
 feel himself much interested in my welfare, was inquisi 
 tive to know how I employed myself in the country, &.c. 
 Amongst other employments, 1 mentioned that occasion 
 ally I had a job of surveying. Mr. A, observed to me 
 that he was a proprietor in a township of land in the inte 
 rior of the State, (viz. IN. H.) that the proprietors must 
 shortly have it laid out in lots, and that Col. S. Sher- 
 burne, Capt. I. Salter, and himself, were a committee ap 
 pointed by the proprietors for this purpose. He thought 
 I had better call on those gentlemen, observing, that if 
 they were agreed, he should be willing that I should 
 have the job. In short, I agreed with them to lay out 
 the township called Success, into one hundred acre lots. 
 This township lies twenty miles north of the White Hills, 
 and is bounded on the east by the State of Maine. This 
 was a serious undertaking for me, but there was no time 
 to be lost. 
 
 It was expedient that I should make a journey of sixty 
 or seventy miles into the town of Shelburn on the An- 
 droscoggin river, and laying directly south of Success, to 
 procure provisions and make preparation for commen 
 cing the business. On the 12th September, 1795, my 
 first son was born: he was named John Elliot. 
 
 As soon as 1 could conveniently leave my family, I 
 commenced the journey. In ascending the Androscog- 
 gin, orithe south side, I forded a number of streams which 
 tell into the river. The last dav s journey was generally 
 through a dreary wilderness; and the road, if it deserved 
 the name, was exceedingly bad. In Shelburn there 
 were but few inhabitants : Moses Ingalls, Esq. and 
 Fletcher Ingalls, his brother, were the principal men of 
 the place. From both of those gentlemen I received many 
 signal favors. Their father, an aged and eminent saint, 
 lived with Fletcher. Having made the necessary ar- 
 ntnrrements with the Messrs. Ingalls , I set out for home; 
 but in crossing Mad river, I narrowly escaped with my 
 life. This river is sixty or eighty yards wide; its bed is 
 entirely composed of round smooth stones, of different 
 sizes, from two to six or eight inches in diameter. When. 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE, 
 
 191 
 
 I crossed this river a few days before, the water near each 
 shore was about a foot deep, but several rods in the mid 
 dle was entirely bare. There had been a heavy rain 
 while I was at Shelburn, but my friends thought there 
 would be no danger in crossing. On my return the bed 
 of the river was wholly covered. The water was nearly 
 four feet deep at the sides, and about two in the middle, 
 and so extremely rapid as to move the stones on the bot 
 tom. I had nearly crossed the first channel, when my 
 horse, although active and strong, stumbled and fell. I 
 had taken the precaution to release my feet from the stir 
 rups before I entered the water. I was thrown a little 
 forward of my horse into shallower water, and by grap 
 pling to his head, I soon recovered my feet. The horse 
 was unable to rise until I got foothold, among the stones 
 and held its head up stream; it then, without difficulty, 
 recovered its feet. 
 
 I then proceeded to the middle of the stream, where, as 
 I before observed, the water was shallowest; and having 
 halted a little to rest, I concluded to take my chance with 
 my horse, on my own feet. As I approached the eas 
 tern shore, the water deepened; but I braced myself 
 against the horse, who seemed to have improved from his 
 misfortune, and taking more slow and firm steps, reach 
 ed the eastern shore without further difficulty. Thus 
 was I once more graciously preserved from a watery 
 grave. Having ascended the bank of the river, I turned 
 and took a view of the rapid stream, and thought the 
 name given to it was very appropriate. Casiiug my eye 
 a little to the right, the noble Androscoggin, with its ma 
 jestic impetuosity, presented itself to my view, and caus 
 ed my very soul to shudder in view of the dangfr I had 
 escaped. This was the first instance of imminent dan 
 der 1 had realized since I left the sea; and I could not, 
 with but gratitude, adore that gracious God whose merci 
 ful providence had been so often exercised to save me 
 from the grasp of death. 
 
 On my return home, I found my family well, and I im 
 mediately engaged my brother Samuel for an axe man, 
 Mr. B. Estes and Mr. J. Wormwood for chainmen, and 
 repaired to the wilderness and commenced my survey. 
 
192 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Mr. Ingalls conducted us to the southeast corner of Suc 
 cess, which was also the northeast corner of Shelburn, 
 and about six miles distance from his house. He was 
 the nearest inhabitant to the south, and there were none 
 on the north nearer than Canada. Our work daily car 
 ried us farther from the inhabitants. 
 
 It was our practice, at night, to fall a suitable tree, 
 against which to build a fire, and prepare a sufficient 
 quantity of fuel. At a proper distance from our fire, we 
 stuck down t\vo forked stakes, ten or twelve feet apart, 
 placed a stout pole into these stakes, and then fixed a 
 number of smaller ones on the first. The top ends ran 
 back from the fire, and laid on the ground. On these 
 we would place a quantity of hemlock brush, and lay a 
 quantity of the same on the ground for our bed; resting 
 on this brush, with our feet to a good fire, and covering 
 ourselves with blankets, we generally slept comfortably. 
 
 Our business was very fatiguing; it being so late in 
 the season that the streams were considerably swollen, 
 and the swamps quite wet. We had also to endure sev 
 eral storms of rain, and one of snow, which fell six inches 
 deep. This did not all disappear until the third or fourth 
 day after. When we accomplished our business, we 
 were nearly twenty miles from .Esq. Ingalls 1 . 
 
 It was a very dark day, and we were each of us entire 
 ly willing to retire from this gloomy wilderness. We 
 commenced our retreat early in the forenoon. It rain 
 ed all day, and we were each of us heavily loaded with 
 our camp equipage. We had entirely expended our 
 provisions, and had but a scanty breakfast that morning. 
 When night overtook us, we were within about five miles 
 of Mr. Ingalls , on the weather side of a mountain. It 
 was quite rainy, with a high wind, and we could no lon 
 ger find our way by our spotted trees. For a while we 
 got along slowly, by feeling the spots. One person 
 would stand by a spotted tree, while another person 
 would find a second, another a third, and so on. At 
 length w r e concluded to strike up a fire, hut every thing 
 was so wet that it was very difficult. We happened to 
 find some birch bark, and made a torch by which we 
 traced the spotted line, until we descended from the 
 
ANDREW SHERBURXE. 1975 
 
 mountain to pine land. We then lost our course, but 
 obtaining an abundance of excellent pitchwood, we 
 made our way by conjecture, for some time. At length 
 we became apprehensive that we were not pursuing the 
 proper route. On setting my compass, I found that we 
 were travelling nearly a north course, when we wished 
 to go south. 
 
 I then sent two of the men forward with torches, keep 
 ing them in range of each other; and kept the other to 
 light me, while I should occasionally set the compass. 
 Though we advanced slowly, this was preferable to lay 
 ing on the weather side of the mountain, in the 
 rain. At length we heard the barking of dogs, (by no 
 means an unpleasant sound,) and we shortly iound our 
 way to our friend Ingalls house. It was about mid 
 night; the barking of the dogs, and our approaching the 
 house with several large torches, not a little alarmed 
 the family. The Esquire and his lady arose and paid 
 us every possible attention. Although Mrs. Ingalls was 
 not in health at that time, she insisted on waiting on us 
 herself. I can never forget their affectionate attention. 
 
 We were extremely tired and hungry; it was there 
 fore necessary that we should rest a day or two, before 
 we should pursue our journey homeward. In due lime, 
 we took an affectionate leave of these agreeable fami 
 lies, nor have I seen any member of them since. On 
 our arrival at home, we had the satisfaction to find all 
 well. It became necessary to make a plan and a return 
 to my employers. They expressed entire satisfaction, 
 and honorably paid me. After paying off all my bills, I 
 found I had made about two dollars per day, for each 
 day I had spent, including all my journeying on the oc 
 casion. I could not but view this circumstance as a 
 special act of Divine Providence in my favor. 
 
 At this period, the state of religion, as weJl as litera 
 ture, was very different from what it is now. When the 
 reformation, which I have before mentioned, took place 
 in Cornish, in 1787, there was nothing like a reformation 
 heard of in any part of the country, to my knowledge; 
 but in a few years after, reformations became quite com 
 mon in many parts of our land. The reformation which 
 17 
 
194 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 commenced in Cornish, spread into the adjacent towns 
 of Limington, Limerick, Hiram, Baldwin and Parson- 
 Held, and several other towns. But there was neither a 
 Congregational nor Presbyterian preacher in either of 
 those towns, or in any other town within fifteen or twenty 
 miles of the place. The Congregationalists (for there 
 were no Presbyterians or Methodists in that section of 
 country at that time,) seemed rather indifferent towards 
 the reformation, or perhaps it may be as proper to say, 
 rather opposed. 
 
 Several years after the reformation in Cornish, a Con 
 gregational minister was settled in the adjoining town of 
 Limington, where a number of the members of the Bap 
 tist church of Cornish resided. There was also a con 
 siderable number of persons residing in Limington who 
 were Baptists in sentiment, and attended meeting in Cor 
 nish, but they were all, without exception, taxed to the 
 support of the Congregational minister in Limington. 
 This circumstance occasioned unpleasant feelings, and a 
 remonstrance against such proceedings; but it was to no 
 purpose. The Baptists, however, refused to pay the tax, 
 and when the year came about, the constable distrained 
 from them their property, and sold it at vendue, to pay 
 the ministerial taxes. This circumstance occasioned 
 great uneasiness in the town; and some of those who 
 were thus used, being acquainted with Judge Thatcher, 
 of Gorham, made application to him for counsel, and pro 
 cured him to draw a petition to the general court of Mas 
 sachusetts in their favor. (Maine at that time was un 
 der the Massachusetts government.) He was formerly a 
 Congregational preacher himself, but was possessed of 
 more candor than some others. There were about thirty 
 persons who signed the petition; the prayer of which was 
 to obtain an act of incorporation as a Baptist society. 
 They saw fit to employ me to present the petition. A 
 few years prior to this, there had been a Baptist church 
 constituted in Frysbury, in the county of York, twenty 
 miles to the north of Cornish. This church had recently 
 been taxed by the Congregationalists. 
 
 In Massachusetts Proper, about the year 1795, and 
 several years prior thereto, the Baptist churches in Barn- 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 19". 
 
 stable and Harwich were grievously oppressed by the 
 Congregationalists. This induced the Warren Associa 
 tion, to which the Baptist churches in Boston belonged, 
 to appoint a committee to give counsel to the Baptist 
 brethren or churches, who might be oppressed by taxa 
 tion: Mr., afterwards Dr. Baldwin, was one of this 
 committee. 
 
 On my arrival at Boston, in behalf of my Limington 
 friends, about the year 1799, I in the first place called 
 on Mr. Baldwin, (having a letter of introduction from 
 elder Wm. Bachelder,) whom I found to be one of the most 
 friendly and obliging persons I have ever met with. He 
 readily gave me all the assistance that lay in his power. 
 He introduced me to deacon Titcomb, of Newburyport, 
 and to Gen. Salem Town. Both of these gentlemen be 
 longed to the Senate, and were on the committee for in 
 corporations. He also introduced me to a number of 
 other gentlemen of the house. I presented the petition, 
 which was read in both houses, and committed to the 
 committee for incorporations. After I arrived in Boston, 
 I ascertained that Judge Fry, of Frysbury, who at that 
 time was a senator from the county of York, was em 
 ployed by the select-men of Limington to oppose the pe 
 tition which had been committed to my care; and I knew 
 that he was unfriendly to the Baptists. 
 
 By this time the Methodists began to increase in Mas 
 sachusetts. I found a gentleman attending the general 
 court, with a petition to defend a Methodist society: 
 however we might differ in our religious tenets, our in 
 terest was one and the same, in regard to an incorpora 
 tion. 
 
 I have the impression that there had been a bill before 
 the house several years before, the object of which was 
 to place the several religious denominations upon an 
 equal footing; and I found that our applications for incor 
 porations were the means of reviving that bill. After 
 about two weeks, I had an opportunity of being heard 
 by the committee for incorporations. I merely stated 
 the matters of fact in regard to the petitioners, and plead 
 for their constitutional rights. Judge Fry also appear 
 ed, and with great vehemence, declaimed against an in- 
 
196 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 dividual, of the petitioners, who was not a church mem 
 ber, however, of whom he had heard an ill report; and 
 represented the petitioners as a faction, who were oppo 
 sed to all wholesome government, &c. and that their ob 
 ject was only to get rid of paying ministerial taxes, i 
 observed to the gentlemen of the committee, (which con 
 sisted of two members from the Senate and three from the 
 house, that the thought had never entered my mind that 
 his honor would have taken such ground. I presumed 
 that he had no personal acquaintance with any one of 
 the petitioners; but that I was personally acquainted with 
 the greatest part of them, and knew a number of them to 
 be members of the Baptist church in Cornish. That 
 whatever defects there might be in the moral characters 
 of the honorable gentleman s employers, (and I was con 
 fident that they were not all without them,) we had on 
 ly to complain of their unjustly and unconstitutionally 
 taking away, and sacrificing our property, and pray for 
 protection. 
 
 The committee did not report in favor of the petition 
 ers, because they were confident that the general bill 
 would pass. I believe they recommended the passing 
 said bill as a substitute. I have the impression that the 
 bill passed the Senate, but am not confident. But I was 
 afterwards informed by Dr. Baldwin, that, in the Mouse 
 of Representatives, the yeas and nays were equally divi 
 ded upon the bill, and that the Speaker, (who, 1 think, was 
 Mr. Timothy Bigelow,) gave his vote against the bill. 
 I cannot say whether .Deacon Titcomb was a Congrega- 
 tionalist or a Presbyterian; he was, however, a gentleman 
 of unquestionable piety; and \vaswillingthat the Baptists 
 and other dissenters (from the standing order, so called,) 
 should enjoy equal privileges with himself. Gen. Town 
 was equally liberal. They did not think it necessary for 
 me to tarry longer, as they had no doubt that the bill 
 would pass. I was also informed by Dr. Baldwin, that 
 the Deacon very ably supported the bill in the Senate: 
 he referred to me, as the agent of a society, who had 
 spent several weeks endeavoring to obtain an act of in 
 corporation; and ho was satisfied that the petitioners 
 ought to be relieved; and the only reason which induced 
 
SHERBERXE: 197 
 
 the committee not to report in favor of an act of incorpo 
 ration, was because they had the expectation that the 
 bill would pass. 
 
 While in Boston I had a conference with Judge Wells, 
 who was the other Senator irom the county of York: he 
 agreed with me that the petitioners were oppressed. I 
 urged him, that in case the petition did not succeed, that 
 he would use his influence with the select-men of Lim- 
 ington not to tax the Baptists. I had no doubt he would 
 succeed. Whether he interfered, I cannot now say; but 
 I believe they were no longer taxed. In a few years af 
 ter this, there was a Baptist Church constituted in Lim- 
 ington, and they built a meeting-house and settled a min 
 ister. 
 
 In other places, however, the Congregationalists con 
 tinued to tax other denominations. This occasioned 
 many perplexing and vexatious law suits. In Falmouth, 
 in the district of Maine, in the year 1810, the Univer- 
 salists were engaged in a law suit with the Congregation 
 alists, for the purpose of recovering money that had been 
 taken from them by the latter. The decision of the Su 
 preme Court, in which the late Judge Parsons, Chief Jus 
 tice of the State presided, was, " That no society, except 
 those which were incorporated by law, could be entitled 
 to this privilege ; n viz. of drawing back their money again. 
 Immediately upon the news of this decision, a circular 
 address, signed in behalf of others, by Dr. Baldwin of 
 Boston, Mr. Williams of Beverly, and Mr. Bolles of 
 Salem, was distributed through the State,* together with 
 a petition, the subtsance of the prayer of which was the 
 general bill before mentioned. In the June session of" 
 1811, about thirty thousand citizens, many of whom were 
 Congregationalists, preferred their petition for this gen 
 eral bill. Eventually, relief was obtained; nor have I 
 heard of any oppression since. 
 
 Mr. John Chadbourn, who commenced preaching in 
 the time of the reformation, at Cornish, continued to 
 preach there a considerable part of the time for several 
 years: he then moved to Bethel, on the Androscoggin 
 
 * See Benedict s History of the Baptists, vol. I. pp. 447, 443, and 
 vol. II. pp. 432, 433, &c. 
 17* 
 
193 MEMOIRS or 
 
 river, where he continued about a year. The reforma 
 tion had subsided, and the church seemed to decline. 
 We, however, continued out meetings, and had occa 
 sional preaching. Mr. Ebenezer P. Kinsman, from Wa- 
 terborough, who was afterwards ordained Pastor of the 
 liaptist church in Limerick, supplied us part of the time. 
 
 Mr. Chadbourn having returned from Bethel, was 01- 
 dained, but not particularly to the pastoral care of that 
 church; he however continued to preach there some 
 time, and then went to Limington. 
 
 We were again u as sheep without a shepherd." Mr. 
 Isaac Thompson and myself served the church as Dea 
 cons at that time, and with several other brethren, en 
 tered into an especial agreement to continue our meeting; 
 but we had many trials to endure. The church was in a 
 low cold state, and there were some divisions among us 
 in regard to doctrine. Mr. Timothy Barnes was a" chief 
 man among the brethren;" he used occasionally to 
 speak in public, but he moved to Penobscot. Mr. Joseph 
 Smith, one of the most celebrated singers and teachers of 
 music in New- England, a Baptist brother, came from 
 Eppirig into the place with his family. Fie was after 
 wards appointed a Deacon in the church, and also be 
 came a preacher. Mr. Joseph Allen had a very edifying 
 gift in exhortation. The three last mentioned brethren 
 have long since been deposited in the silent grave. 
 
 Our manner of carrying on a meeting, was to sing a 
 hvmu or psalm, join in prayer, and then read a chapter 
 of the Scriptures, and any one who was disposed, made 
 observations from it. Occasionally we had an exhorta 
 tion, and when it came from deacon Thompson or broth 
 er Allen, it was both animated and animating. Mr. Noah 
 Jewett, of the Congregational church in Durham, N. H. 
 purchased one of the best estates in the town, and with 
 a large family moved in. 
 
 About this time the Free-will Baptists and Methodists 
 seemed disposed to occupy the ground, as we had no 
 preacher, and made a practice of holding their meetings 
 within call of ours; but there were, however, a consid 
 erable number who were not disposed to hear them. The 
 Methodists succeeded in forming a small class, but it was 
 dissolved in less than a year. 
 
ANDREW SHERBUR.NE. 199 
 
 Mr. Je\vett, for a while, seemed inclined to take the 
 back ground; I believe, however, that his heart was as 
 much with us as a Po^do-Baptist s could be; and notwith 
 standing our close communion, as it is called, he was 
 soon led to discover that he had as much freedom in ex 
 ercising his gifts among us, as though he had been with 
 his own brethren ; for we freely invited him to take an 
 active part in our meetings, and felt the advantages of his 
 assistance. After a while, I felt inclined to bring him 
 into a conversation with me upon baptism, but he used 
 the same kind of policy with me that the celebrated John 
 Newton did with Dr. Thomas Scott. At length I frank 
 ly invited him to a conference upon the subject. He re 
 marked to me, that it was a question with him whether I 
 should produce any argument in favor of my principles 
 which he had not heard, and that for himself, he had no 
 expectation that he should produce any in his favor that I 
 had not heard, nor did he suppose we should either of us 
 derive any benefit from a talk on the subject. As he was 
 therefore not disposed to hoist his colors or run out his 
 guns, I was by no means inclined to fire into him, as a 
 sailor would say. I wished that I had not introduced 
 the subject; but he afterwards became a Baptist, and 
 was appointed a Deacon in the church, and became one 
 of her principal supporters. I will in this place narrate a 
 particular circumstance which occurred with us, the date 
 of which I do not now particularly remember. 
 
 On a thanksgiving day, we had had a meeting, although 
 we had no minister. It was the general practice in jVew 
 England for the young people to assemble in companies, 
 oa thanksgiving evenings, for dancing, but I believe it 
 never was a practice in Cornish. 1 believe, however, 
 that they visited in small parties for recreation; this was 
 practised also by the heads of families. 
 
 At the meeting on that day, I invited my brethren 
 Jewett, Allen, Thompson, and Ranlet,to spend the even 
 ing at my house. They ail attended, arid we passed the 
 evening in a sociable and friendly mariner until past nine 
 o clock. When my guests were about to retire, I ob 
 served to them that it would be a privilege to have one o 
 them pray with us before we parted: all was silence for" 
 
2t)0 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 a minute or t\vo. I observed that I had no choice, and 
 that I would gladly join with any one of them; but finally 
 they all declined. I then endeavored to urge it upon 
 one and another, but all to no purpose, and they each of 
 them urged it upon me; but as I was in my own house, 
 it seemed remote from common practice for me to at 
 tempt the performance. My conscience upbraided me, 
 because I had not introduced the subject of religion in 
 our evening s conversation. 
 
 Each of these brethren had a similar confession to 
 make. My wife s mind had been burdened all the even 
 ing, in consequence of our omission, but she thought it 
 not her place to introduce the subject. I could not en 
 dure the thought of their leaving me without praying. 
 I therefore urged them again and again, but to no pur 
 pose. 
 
 Eventually, there was no alternative; I must myself 
 attempt to pray.* I therefore commenced under a dis 
 tressing trial of mind, and 1 prayed under the necessity 
 of praying, after I had, with deep compunction of soul, 
 confessed my delinquency. I had no sooner closed than 
 another commenced, and he had no sooner ceased to 
 speak vocally to the great I AM, than a third engaged; 
 and finally we all prayed we all wept we all rejoiced. 
 We then all sat down as in an heavenly place, and spent 
 an hour as Christians ought to spend their time when 
 tagether. The next day we were desirous to know each 
 other s state of mind. We communicated to others how 
 it had been with us; a happy revival ensued, and a re 
 formation commenced, in which a number were added 
 to the church. 
 
 About this time there was a reformation in Portland, 
 as I have before mentioned. If commenced with a few 
 persons who were not satisfied with the stated preachingt 
 in the town. They were Messrs. Benjamin Titcomb, 
 Thomas Beck, and Nathaniel Cross. They established 
 
 * Having since visited Cornish, and conversed with some of my 
 old friends, I am inclined to think that Mr. Jewett first engaged 
 in prayer. 
 
 t This was before the excellent Payson settled in Portland. 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE4\ \J J 201 
 
 . 
 
 meetings in their houses for a while, but generally at Mr. 
 Titcornb s. He afterwards became an acct 
 profitable Baptist preacher. Mr. Beck was afterwards 
 one of the deacons of the Baptist church in that place, 
 but Mr. Cross never became a Baptist; he however be 
 came a very active member of a Congregational church, 
 in which he had the happiness of seeing an extensive re 
 formation. I lived about thirty miles from Portland, but 
 my business often called me there, and [ became irifi- 
 mately acquainted with the three above named brethren. 
 
 I always called upon them when I went into the town, 
 and sometimes spent a Sabbath with them. They were 
 soon after joined by Benjamin llsley, since a deacon in 
 the church; Mark Harris, who has since been a mem 
 ber of the Senate of Massachusetts and also a represen 
 tative to Congress; William Beckett, a Baptist brother 
 from London, long since deceased; Ansel Lewis, and a 
 imniDer of others: finally, they have become a large and 
 respectable church, arid have now for their pastor Mr. 
 Thomas B. Ripley, from Boston. Mr. Titcomb is the 
 pastor of a large and flourishing church in Brunswick, 
 Me. 
 
 Until after deacon Smith and doacon Jewett joined 
 our meeting in Cornish, I was placed in very trying cir 
 cumstances; for if my brethren knew of my design to 
 be absent on the Sabbath, they would not meet togeth 
 er. We seemed inclined to lean on each other, and 
 whether they leaned more on me than I did on them, I 
 cannot say. 
 
 There were but three or four of us that took an ac 
 tive part in our meetings. There was a certain kind of 
 backwoods modesty about us, which induced us respect 
 ively to put each other forward, rather than to go forward 
 ourselves. It was frequently the case with me, that 
 when I read a chapter, there was some particular text 
 in it which lay with considerable weight on my mind. I 
 commonly made some general observations on the 
 chapter, but could not well avoid some particular explan 
 ations on that particular text that lay on my mind. I 
 was careful to avoid everything that had the appearance 
 of preaching. 
 
202 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Individuals of our own, and of other churches, had 
 from time to time given it as their opinion, that Sher- 
 burne would be a preacher: and some had even urged 
 it upon me. I dare not say that I did not secretly wish 
 to be a preacher, but I was disposed to hold myself at an 
 awful distance from that sacred office. I felt as if it 
 was next to the unpardonable sin for a creature to at 
 tempt that employment, if God had not absolutely call 
 ed him to the work; and I also indulged the idea, that if 
 God called a creature to that employment, he would 
 give him as demonstrative evidence of it as he had of 
 the existence of Deity. And I also ardently wished 
 that if I should become a preacher, I might be a good 
 and a great one. But considering the inferiority of my 
 abilities and education, it appeared to be out of the 
 question, that I should become a real minister of Christ. 
 Such thoughts and impressions revolved in my mind for 
 ten years before I attempted to preach, during which 
 time I was a constant attendant on preaching, whenever 
 I had opportunity, and was an attentive hearer, and a 
 critical observer. I sometimes thought 1 discovered in 
 some young preachers a degree of affectation, and an 
 inclination to imitate the manners of such preachers as 
 were celebrated speakers. This extremely hurt my 
 feelings. I had read and prayerfully studied the script 
 ures for more than twelve years, and felt no more com 
 petent to determine whether God had called me to preach 
 than when the subject first exercised my thoughts; and 
 yet [ could not possibly disengage my mind from the 
 subject. 
 
 About the year 1800, I spent a Sabbath with my good 
 friends in Portland, who by this time had increased to a 
 considerable number, and had hired a school-house in 
 Union-street, in which a decent congregation assembled. 
 
 Mr. Titcomb led the meeting, but I think he did not 
 preach. His speaking powerfully aiTected my mind, 
 and I felt as if I must speak when he closed. I made 
 the attempt, and I felt as if I was assisted by the Holy 
 Spirit. I had great freedom, and had the attention of 
 the people, and spake to them fifteen or twenty minutes, 
 to the particular satisfaction of my Christian friends 
 
ANDREW SHERBURXE. 203 
 
 When 1 reflected on what had passed, I concluded that 
 if I at that time had spoken under the influence of the 
 Holy Spirit, that I had very many times grieved 
 that Spirit, by declining to obey his dictates. 
 
 When I returned home, my feelings were very much 
 tried from the circumstance that my brethren had had 
 no meeting on the preceding Sabbath... And it was no 
 small trial to me, when I reflected in what manner I had 
 spoken in Portland, when I had never undertaken to 
 speak in that manner in my own church. Although I 
 had often felt as if I must unavoidably speak unto them 
 the words of this life, yet I withheld, either in conse 
 quence of its being so great a cross, or for fear I should 
 run when the Lord had not sent me. I do not know 
 that I felt any condemnation for speaking in Portland, 
 for I believe I may say that I could not hold my peace. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Commences preaching, in 1801 Visits Boston Death 
 of his sister Preaches in Boston, in Salem and many 
 other places In 1802 preaches in Philipsburg 
 The venerable Deacon Chase E. Hight, Esq. 
 Preaches at Arundel Removes to Arundel Reform 
 ation Teaches school Ordained Takes the census 
 in six towns Distressing sickness His wife out of 
 health Her life despaired of Her happy state of 
 mind Her death. 
 
 OUR meetings were carried on in Cornish, as usual; 
 the free-will brethren occasionally setting up u their post 
 by our post." On the fourth Sabbath in May, 1801, as 
 I was on the way to our school-house where we held our 
 meetings, I met several going to the other meeting and I 
 was almost determined to turn back myself, from the 
 impression that there would be none at the school-house; 
 I however went foward, and to my astonishment found 
 
204 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 a larger congregation than usually met there, when there 
 was no preacher. The books were passed from one 
 brother to another, and finally were presented to me. I 
 opened the meeting in our usual manner, and having 
 read the second chapter of the epistle to the Colossians, 
 1 informed the audience that it was my design to confine 
 rny observations to the sixth and seventh verses. I had 
 great freedom in giving my views of " receiving Christ 
 Jesus the Lord;" the reasonableness, the propriety, and 
 the necessity, of walking in his commandments and ordi 
 nances, in order to a " growth in grace, and abounding 
 therein with thanksgiving." Having delivered my 
 message, I felt a peculiar calmness of mind. 
 
 It was soon noised abroad, and in the adjacent towns, 
 that Sherburne had commenced preaching. For some 
 time I enjoyed a happy state of mind. Immediately upon 
 this, deacon Joseph Smith, before mentioned, commenc 
 ed preaching, to great acceptance. Our congregation 
 increased: the free-will brethren gave up their meeting; 
 the Methodist class was dissolved, and a reformation 
 again commenced. 
 
 I was much attached to Mr. John Watson, formerly a 
 sailor, and Mr. Asa Osgood, an old revolutionist, both 
 living in Brownfield, seven miles north of Cornish. 
 They both being members of the church with me, urged 
 me to preach in their neighborhood; and I having par 
 ticular acquaintance in Limerick, Limington, Baldwin, 
 Portland, and a number of other towns, was invited to 
 preach in those places: and as deacon Smith was preach 
 ing in Cornish, to the satisfaction of the church, I was 
 at liberty to be absent, and comply with the^wishes 
 of my friends abroad. 
 
 I had anticipated severe trials, if I were to preach, 
 but my mind was generally tranquil. I generally had 
 freedom in speaking, and took great satisfaction in read 
 ing and studying the scriptures. But my trading con 
 cerns were embarrassments to my mind, and I was re 
 solved to wind up that business as soon as possible. I 
 found myself indebted to Esq. Fierce, and others in Port 
 land, about four hundred dollars, and the property I then 
 held was worth about nine hundred dollars. 
 
AXDHEW SHERBUR.\E. 205 
 
 Iii March, 1802, Mr. John Coflin, and others, employ 
 ed me to transact dome business for them in Glocester, 
 on Cape Ann. J laving accomplished my business, and 
 being so near Boston, I resolved to visit t\vo of my sis 
 ters then residing in Boston. When 1 was there in the 
 year of 1791), I had thre.",- sisters there at service; as 
 wages were much higher in Boston than in Portsmouth. 
 They had been recommended by ladies in Portsmouth, 
 to other ladies of their acquaintance in Boston. Eliza 
 beth and Mary lived at a Mr. Boardinan d, on Fort Hill, 
 and Susan lived several years at Dr. Jarvar s, but was 
 now married to Capt. Peter Kenedy, who kept a board 
 ing-house. Mary was married to a Mr. Kelly, about a 
 year before, and shortly after died. I arrived in Bos 
 ton about six o clock, P. M. and first called on my good 
 friend, Mr. Ja s. Newhall, with whom I boarded in 1799. 
 Mrs. N. enquired whether I had been sent for-, I in 
 formed her 1 was not. "Then," said she, "you did not 
 know that your friends were in trouble/ I informed 
 her I did not, and requested to know what was the mat 
 ter. She replied, " your sister Elizabeth died this 
 morning at five o clock." 
 
 1 had never heard of her illness, as she had been sick 
 but a few days. I unexpectedly found my mother in 
 Boston. She had been living with my brother George, 
 on the Penobscot river, and went to Boston in a coaster, 
 with him, a few weeks before, to see her children. I call 
 ed on my good friend Baldwin, who attended the funeral. 
 
 This sister was the only relative I had ever followed 
 to the grave, except one cousin. As I drew near to Bos 
 ton, my mind was deeply employed in contemplating on 
 the subject of mortality, and anticipating the scenes of 
 sorrow and of joy, in which I expected shortly to be em 
 ployed witli my dear surviving sisters; little thinking that 
 the first information from the first acquaintance I should 
 meet, would be the death of one of them. "Be ye also 
 ready." While in Boston, Mr. Baldwin would have me 
 preach in his vestry, which I did, but it put me to a hard 
 trial to preach to Bostoriians. On my return home, I 
 preached at Salem, Beverly, Windham, Hampton Falls 
 and Exeter. 
 
 18 
 
206 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 In the summer of 1802, 1 preached frequently at Phil- 
 ipsburg, (now Hollis,) on Saco river, about ten miles 
 from the sea. On the second Sabbath in which I preach 
 ed in this town, which was the thirteenth of June 1802, 1 
 first became acquainted with the venerable deacon Chase, 
 of the Congregational church in Saco. He was here on 
 a visit at Elisha Eight s, Esq. His lady was the deacon s 
 grand daughter. Before public worship began in the 
 morning, Col. Lane, of Buxton, called on me; with a re 
 quest that I would attend the funeral of a Mr. Abner 
 Chase, late of Litchfield, in New-Hampshire. Col. Lane 
 and others, had employed this active and enterprising 
 young man, as the master workman of a bridge which they 
 were constructing across Saco river, between Buxton and 
 Hollis. He was unfortunately drowned in Saco river, 
 on the twenty-first of May. Great exertions were used 
 to recover the body, but it was not found until the twelfth 
 or thirteenth of June, when it arose and floated ashore 
 in Hollis, a few miles below Esq. Right s. 
 
 It was expedient that the corpse should be deposited in 
 a coffin, and even in the grave, as soon as possible; but 
 before the grave was covered, a large assembly of the 
 citizens of Buxton and Hollis formed a procession at a 
 house not far distant, and marched round the grave, and 
 then attended public worship in an orchard. The de 
 ceased was a distant relation of the deacon s, who was 
 the only relative to attend on the solemn occasion. The 
 deacon was then about ninety years of age. As Col. 
 Lane arranged the procession, it was his request that 
 the deacon and myself should walk together to the grave. 
 It was my wish to have walked at the left hand of such a 
 venerable character, and I took that position, but before 
 I was aware of it, he reversed the order, and insisted 
 upon my walking at his right hand, and I was constrained 
 to submit. 
 
 From that time, the deacon became quite attached to 
 me; and it was no small consolation to me, to enjoy the 
 friendship and attachment of such eminent Christians as 
 elder Chadbourn, before mentioned, and old deacon 
 Chase. It would be difficult for me to say which of those 
 excellent and aged Christians I most highly esteemed. 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. ^07 
 
 Elder Chadbourn had departed this life, however, be 
 fore I became acquainted with deacon Chase. I believe 
 I have before mentioned that elder Chadbourn had two 
 sons who were Baptist preachers. Deacon Chase had 
 two sons who were members of the Baptist church in Lim- 
 ington, viz. Amos and Abner; the former of whom is a 
 deacon. I believe he is yet living, and think he must 
 be more than seventy years of age. 
 
 After I settled in Arundel, (now called Kennebunk 
 Port,) deacon Chase used occasionally to come to our 
 meeting; and after they had built a new meeting-house 
 at Saco, he invited me to preach in the old one, which I 
 did several times. When he was ninety-jive, I had been 
 preaching at said meeting-house, and we stood talking 
 together after the assembly had all dispersed, and when 
 we took our leave of each other, the deacon mounted his 
 horse from the ground, with as much alacrity as I could 
 have done. The good man lived until he had almost ac 
 complished his hundredth year. But few men have lived 
 more universally respected. I believe that at the age of 
 ninety, it could scarcely be perceived, by his acquain 
 tance, that his mental powers had, in any considerable 
 degree, depreciated. u The memory of the just is bless 
 ed? Proverbs, x. 7. 
 
 I continued to preach at Hollis once a month, until 
 October, 1802. They were supplied also a part of the 
 time, by a Mr. Timothy Holdson, a young man of hand 
 some talents, and a decent education, who commenced 
 preaching that summer, and was afterwards settled in the 
 ministry in that town. I shall have occasion to say some 
 thing more of this excellent man hereafter. 
 
 NV iiile I preached in Hollis, I became very intimate in 
 the families of Esquire Right and Mr. Daniel Stone. 
 Those two families were friendly to me, and I generally 
 put up with one or the other of them, and felt myself per 
 fectly at home. None of them were public professors of 
 religion at that time, but Mrs. Stone was n person of un 
 questionable piety. I visited her some years after this, 
 while on her dying bed, and found her possessed of an 
 unshaken hope in Christ. 
 
 I cannot well refrain from saying a few words of Esq. 
 Right, who many years since left a numerous and inter- 
 
208 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 csting family to mourn his untimely death. J must con 
 fess that ot all men with whom 1 have been acquainted, I 
 have never found his superior in attention to visitors. lie, 
 appeared to take the utmost pleasure in accommodating 
 them. Sonic fifteen or twenty years since, this gentle 
 man hud a gun" 1 of hands employed in clearing a piece of 
 excellent new land, on a limn several miles frmn his 
 house. There was a certain root which attracted his at 
 tention; he tasted it, and observing that it had a pleasant 
 taste, he offered some of it to his workmen. One or two 
 of them tasted it, but did not swallow it; but lie was so 
 imprudent as to swallow it freely. Thev directly alter 
 went to the house to procure drink: they sat but a few 
 minutes, when he complained that he fe!t quite unwell. 
 He was advised to lay down on the bed, which he did, 
 and the men went to their work. The woman of the 
 house knew that he was very loud of colfee, and said she 
 would make some strong colfee, and thought he would 
 feel better. She went to the well to procure water, and 
 when she returned, she found him off the bed. and strug 
 gling on the floor. She called to the men, who immedi 
 ately carnc in and put him on the bed again; but he was 
 so convulsed that it was difficult to keep him on the bed. 
 He expired in less than half an hour. The, reader can 
 better judge, than 1 can express, what must have been 
 the distress of an affectionate wife and eight or ten loud 
 children, on the reception of such distressing tidings, 
 it was thought that the root of which this gentleman so 
 incautiously partook, was the wild parsnip. 
 
 I have known several instances in which persons have 
 lost their lives by eatinjj this poisonous root. An in 
 stance} occurred in this viciniry, in which a young bid died 
 in consequence of eating this root, us Mas supposed. In 
 giving this account, it is one object of the writer to put 
 his readers on their uuard, and to induce parents to warn 
 their children against this deadly poison. 
 
 On the first Sabbath in October, 100:2, bv icquest, I 
 preached in the new meeting-house in Anmdrl, ( now 
 railed Kennebunk Port.) This was in the ncighboi hood 
 of elder S. Locke, who occasionally preached iu thr san>e 
 house, which had been built a few years before, chiefly 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 209 
 
 by the Congregationalists; for there was no Baptist 
 church or society in the town. The Kennebunk river, 
 on tiie west of this town, divided it from Wells. It was 
 bounded on the east by Biddeford, arid on the south by 
 the ocean. It included Cape Porpoise, (which was its 
 original name,) and extended eight miles into the coun 
 try, to the town of Lyman, on the north. At the port 
 there is a handsome and populous village. The old Con 
 gregational meeting-house, in which the .Rev. Silas 
 Moody preached at that time, stood within a mile of the 
 Port; consequently some of the inhabitants had to travel 
 six miles to meeting. The new meeting-house was erec 
 ted with a design to have Mr. Moody preach in it a 
 stipulated part of the time, but as the voters at and about 
 the Port, could out vote those who were interested in the 
 new house, they could never get a vote of the town for 
 Mr. Moody to preach there. He preached to them, 
 however, one Sabbath, and several other Congregational 
 ministers being invited, preached a day each to them. 
 Being unable to settle a Congregationalist, they suf 
 fered the Baptist? to preach in it. 
 
 Mr. Timothy Remick, a licentiate from the Baptist 
 church in Parsonfield, had preached there several Sab 
 baths, and there was a prospect of a reformation. Mr. 
 Rernick was soon called to take the pastoral charge of 
 the church in Cornish, where I believe he continues to 
 this day. 
 
 By request, I preached to them again in Arundel, on 
 the second sabbath in November. I spoke twice at the 
 meeting-house; I then attended a funeral, and had a lec 
 ture in the evening; and had several other meetings in 
 the town before I returned home. .Early in December, 
 a committee from Arundel visited me, and informed me 
 that the proprietors of the meeting-house had had a meet 
 ing, and unanimously voted to consider themselves, and 
 be considered, as a Baptist society; and also to invite 
 me to come and settle with them. 
 
 With regard to emoluments, they would give me the 
 amount of the ministerial tax which they had usually 
 paid to Mr. Moody, which was about sixty dollars. One 
 half of the interest of the money for which the town par- 
 18* 
 
210 MKMOIHS OF 
 
 sonage had recently been sold, which thev supposed to 
 he about forty dollars; and I might also have the oppor 
 tunity of teaching their district school. I was by no 
 means critical with them in regard to a stipend, for our 
 lathers of the preceding generation, had considered it 
 nlmost a crime for a preacher to have a salary settled 
 upon him: and some of them seemed inclined to denounce 
 Jill such ;is hirelings, who took any thing for preaching, 
 by way of a tax. Dissenters from Congreoationalists 
 Imd been so much oppressed, and so frequently impris 
 oned, in consequence of ministerial taxes, that they de 
 tested the idea of supporting a minister by a tax. 1 be 
 lieve, however, they had no objection to u minister s re 
 ceiving a free-will offering. 
 
 1 did not hesitate to comply with their request. It 
 seemed enough for me that they wished for my services. 
 Thev had provided a house for me to live in, and would 
 provide hay for my horse and cow, and a sufficiency of 
 fire wood, and would move me down from the country, 
 (about thirty miles,) without any expense to myself. As 
 T had a year s provision on hand, 1 was not uneasy re 
 specting my subsistence. 
 
 Towards the last of January, 180:)., I moved from 
 Cornish toAruudel and took up my quarters for the time 
 with Mr. John Tarbox; and found myself pleasantly sit 
 uated in an inteiesfinir family and neighborhood. There 
 were frequent conversions, and a harmonious society. 
 Ju June following, there was a Baptist church constitut 
 ed", consisting of thirteen members; the greatest part of 
 wl>om na l been members of elder Locke s chinch, in 
 LyiiMin. On the KSf.h of July 1303, we had the addition 
 of seven to our Itttle church, viz. Nath iel Walker, and 
 Betsey, his wife; Nathaniel Cuvier, and Hannah, his 
 wife; Charles Smith; Paulina Tarbox, the wife of Mr. 
 John Tarbox, my host; and Miss Eunice Ford. I 
 preached on the OC-CRS.IOU from (Jen. xxiv, 58, il And flic 
 ffiirt I irilf ffo." They wore baptized by elder Locke. 
 The church being thus organized and enlarged, they 
 gave me a call to ordination. The society concurring 
 with the measures of the church, they united in Driving 
 me full liberty to send to as many churches as I pleased. 
 
ANDREW SI1E.RBUIINE. 211 
 
 for a council to be convened at our meeting- house, ou 
 the J~lh of September. Letters were therefore address 
 ed to eleven churches, whose delegates met according 
 to request, and on the 28th 1 was ordained, at the close 
 of mv thirty-eighth year. Mr. Moody was invited to at 
 tend the council and ordination, hut he declined. He 
 manifested very unfriendly feelings towards the Baptists 
 and towards the reformation. J never knew or heard of 
 anv such thing as a prayer meetiag or a conference meet 
 ing in his church or society, while he lived. 
 
 J held meetings at private houses, in different parts of 
 the town, and was frequently called to attend funerals in 
 and about the village. Air. Moody did not approve of 
 my being called, or of my attending on those occasions. 
 He thought me an intruder if I went into the lower part 
 of the town to solemnize a marriage, attend a funeral, or 
 to hold any religious naeeu&<*, The reformation extend 
 ed to all parts of the town, and the novelty of the tiling 
 seemed to incline, manv persons to go and see and hear for 
 themselves. This, however, was attended with some 
 difticultv, for they had reason to fear that it they should 
 indulge their inclinations, it might injure the feelings of 
 5omo of their good friends. On funeral occasions, how 
 ever, almost all seemed to be at liberty to attend. There 
 had rcecntlv been a small Baptist church constituted in 
 the north part of \Vetls, of which elder Joshua Roberts 
 was the pastor. There was a reformation in this church 
 also as well as in elder Locke s in Lyman. Occasional 
 ly others, wit!) mvsclf, preached and baptized in the 
 Rev. Mr. Fletcher s parish, in Wells. He was as lit 
 tle inclined to favor the reformation as was Mr. Moody*. 
 
 Our society manifested an anxiety in assisting me to 
 a settlement. Thomas Durrell, Ksq. and Col. John 
 Mitchell, were the most opulent and influential members 
 of our society. The latter iiad been a fellow sufferer 
 with me on board the Jersey prison-ship. Durrell h-av- 
 inr recently built an elegant house, gave me his ol d one, 
 which, with some repairs, made a decent and comforta 
 ble house; and Col. Mitchell gave me an acre of lasRfF on 
 which to set it The other members of the society were 
 equally generous, according to their abilities, but by far 
 the greater part of the society were hard pressed jo sup- 
 
MEMOIRS OF 
 
 port their families. We had some addition to our num 
 bers from the lower part of the town, but this circum 
 stance occasioned unpleasant feelings. 
 
 The leading characters of our society thought that we 
 had a just right to an equal proportion of the interest of 
 the parsonage money, as it was originally given for the 
 use of the ministry, without a designation of any partic 
 ular denomination. I was therefore advised to apply 
 to Mr. Moody, to see if he would relinquish to me a 
 part of said money, and accordingly I did, but he refused. 
 We not being an incorporated society, it was a ques 
 tion whether we could make a legal claim. It was there 
 fore concluded to make application to the general court 
 for an act of incorporation. A petition being prepared, 
 I was once more sent to Boston in behalf of the Baptist 
 denomination; and I had much better success than I had 
 seven years before, when I went in behalf of my oppres 
 sed brethren in Limington. 
 
 I had also an opportunity of renewing my acquaint 
 ance with the excellent Baldwin; but I found the dear 
 man and his family in an afflicted condition. His on 
 ly son, about twenty years of age, lay at the point of 
 death. He had been indisposed but a few days, and ex 
 pired the next day after my arrival, which was Satur 
 day; of course he lay a corpse over the Sabbath. Dr. 
 Stillman made it his business to see that ]\lr. Baldwin s 
 pulpit was sup] lied. The Doctor preached for Mr. 
 Baldwin in the morning; it fell to me to preach for him 
 in the afternoon, and the venerable Mr. G ration, from 
 Newton, preached in the evening. 
 
 The alley or gate-way which led from the street to 
 Mr. Baldwin s meeting-house, passed directly by a back 
 door of the house in which he dwelt. After the morning 
 service, a large number probably an hundred of the mem 
 bers of his church, entered this door, to express their 
 deep sympathy with their beloved pastor. It was truly 
 an atYecting scene to see the good man sitting like a pa 
 triarch, with sorrow, meekness and resignation depict 
 ed on his manly countenance, while the members of his 
 church, the females in particular, pressing by him, ex 
 tending the trembling hand, and weeping, passed out 
 
ANDREW SHERBCRNE. -213 
 
 the front door; while this man of God Occasionally ut 
 tered some appropriate text of scripture or expressed his 
 gratitude for their regard to him and his afflicted family. 
 
 Much as J had witnessed of sickness, death, hlood 
 and carnage, and while scarcely feeling " one soft affec 
 tion move, r on tins occasion I could not but drop a sym 
 pathizing tear. 
 
 Thomas Perkins, Esq. who had formerly expressed 
 his disapprobation of the incorporation of Baptist socie 
 ties, was at this time the representative from Arundel. 
 This rrcntleman had become more friendly to the Bap 
 tists. " He met me in the state-house and proffered his 
 services in favor of my petition. 
 
 The honorable John Woodman, of Buxton, was at 
 that time a member of the Senate. He was in senti 
 ment a Baptist, and to him I left the care of my petition. 
 1 found matters to be in such a train in the ueneral 
 c-uirt, that I was not at all solicitous about the success 
 of our petition. I made but a short stop in Boston, ami 
 s >o:i after my return, Dr. Baldwin forwarded to me the 
 act of incorporation, dated June C 24 1806. 
 
 My friend Durrcll being an acting justice of the peace 
 at that, time, issued a warrant to Col. John Mitchell, re 
 questing him to call a meeting of the society on the fif 
 teenth day of September, for the purpose of choosing 
 the necessary officers, Stc. 
 
 The society met at the meeting-house at the time ap 
 pointed, and called on me to pray with them; and after 
 choosing their oliieers, they voted to raise one hundred 
 dollars as a salary for me, for the ensuing year. This 
 sum was assessed and collected like an ordinary tax, and 
 paid to me. 
 
 At the expiration of the year they voted to raise the 
 same sum for the next. But when the embargo AMI* 
 laid in the year 1808, it much embarrassed the contmu- 
 nitv in general, in our region, and it becume difficult lor 
 a number of our society to pay the taxes. This ditfi- 
 cultv continued from year to year, until the commence 
 ment of the war. 
 
 A lterior to this I had sold mv property in Cornish for 
 nine hundred dollars, and had discharged my debts; and 
 
214 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 had also purchased a lot adjoining my place of residence, 
 containing between thirty and forty acres, and having in 
 curred some necessary expenses for buildings, &,c. I 
 was again rather involved in debt, but was not straitened; 
 for I had the good fortune to form a friendly acquain 
 tance with Captain Wm. Fairtield, who obliged me with 
 the loan of a sufficient sum of money with what I had on 
 hand, to make out the payment for my land. There 
 were individuals in the society who gave me more than 
 double the amount of their taxes, but there were others 
 who were move unable to pay than 1 was to do without 
 it. There were also individuals of the Congregational 
 society who bestowed many favors upon me. 
 
 I have often with astonishment reviewed the kind in 
 terpositions of the gracious providence of God in rescu 
 ing me from dangers, and providing for my necessities, 
 and [ have reason to be more astonished at my own in 
 gratitude in view of the many distinguished mercies God 
 has graciously bestowed upon me. 
 
 In the year 1810, as I was walking the street in Saco, 
 I observed that Dr. Thorntan had a new office, which I 
 had never before noticed. It occurred to my mind, that 
 twelve or fifteen years before, while we attended the 
 county convention, which I have before mentioned, the 
 doctor gave me a pressing invitation to call on him. We 
 did not see each other frequently, but he always renew 
 ed his request whenever we met. 
 
 At that time he was a practitioner in physic and a 
 member of the Legislature; but now he was marshal of 
 the District of Maine. 
 
 I was resolved at this time to give the doctor a call; 
 and accordingly I stepped into his office, where I found 
 him alone. He gave me a cordial reception, but was 
 inclined gently to rebuke me for not calling on him be 
 fore. I could defend myself only by observing to him, 
 that I had oft on invited him to call on me, but that he 
 had never called. He observed that he had sometimes 
 passed rny house, but that it was when he was on busi 
 ness that would not allow of his stopping. He thought 
 as I was frequently in the village, I might occasionally 
 him a call; he should be happy to see me at any 
 
ANDREW 3HERBURNE. 215 
 
 time. We passed half an hour quite agreeably. It was 
 early in the day and 1 had some business that called my 
 attention, but he insisted that I should dine with him that 
 day. I returned and took dinner with the doctor. In 
 conversation he observed that it appeared to him, that 
 the people in the vicinity of my meeting-house, were gen 
 erally in indigent circumstances. He, in his familiar 
 way inquired what I received for a subsistance among 
 them; observing by the way, that he had thought of of 
 fering me some business, if it would be agreeable to me 
 to engage in it. I inquired what it was? He replied 
 that he had recently received orders to take the census 
 of the district, anc that if I was disposed to take a part 
 of it, he would give me a district as large as I wished to 
 take. I replied that I did not know whether it would 
 comport with my calling. "I think," said he, "you 
 need not indulge any scruples on that account, for Mr. 
 E. (a Congregational preacher) has made application to 
 a friend, to procure a district for him. There have been 
 fifteen or twenty applications made to me already, but I 
 have not as yet committed myself to any one; but this 
 much I will say, Mr. Sherburne, if you will take a dis 
 trict I will give you one as large as you think you can 
 take. I replied that I would think of the matter, and 
 give him an answer in a few days. 
 
 I consulted some of my best friends on the subject, 
 particularly deacon James Tarbox, one of my most con 
 fidential friends, Col. Mitchell, esquire Durrell, and oth 
 ers. I found none opposed to my undertaking. Previously 
 to my calliug on the marshal, I had not indulged the re 
 motest thought of applying for, or of being requested to 
 engage in this business. I therefore considered it as a 
 gracious display of divine providence towards me. The 
 Lord knew my wants, and he also knew that my people 
 were unable to supply them. 
 
 I shortly after called on the Marshal again, and in 
 formed him that I had concluded to accept his offer, and 
 he assigned me the towns of Kittery, Elliot, York, Wells, 
 Arundel and Biddeford. Those towns included all the 
 territory on the sea coast, between the Piscataqua river 
 on the west, and Saco river on the east; a distance from 
 
216 MF.MOIRS OF 
 
 thirty to forty miles, and extending eight or ten miles in 
 to the country, probably including three hundred square 
 miles, and sixteen or seventeen thousand inhabitants; 
 averaging from fifty to sixty on a square mile. 
 
 In addition to the census, government had directed 
 that the assistant marshal should also take an account of 
 the several manufacturing establishments in their sever 
 al divisions, together with the quality and value of the 
 articles manufactured annually. This business was to 
 commence on the first Monday in August, and to be 
 completed in five months. 
 
 I had to explore a large field, and introduce myself to 
 a variety of characters, and to interrogate persons res 
 pecting the different members of their family, and the 
 kind and quantity of articles which were manufactured 
 by them. 
 
 In order to carry the laws into execution, it became 
 necessary to put at least a dozen questions, and some 
 times thirty or more. I soon perceived that it was nec 
 essary for me to proceed with the utmost caution, and 
 introduce rny business with all the prudence of which I 
 was master. 
 
 A large proportion of the people were unfriendly to 
 the administration, many of them seemed to have forgot 
 ten, or never known that there had ever been a census 
 taken before. There were not a few, however, who 
 had paid so much attention to their bibles, as to have 
 ascertained that David numbered the children of Israel, 
 and thereby incurred the displeasure of God and brought 
 a heavy judgment upon the nation. 
 
 In many instances when I entered a house and cau 
 tiously made known my business, before I could ask a 
 question and obtain an answer, I was under the neces 
 sity of answering half a dozen questions. "What do 
 you want to number the people for?" was a question 
 frequently asked in the remote parts of towns and along 
 the sea-shore. It would have been rude in me not to 
 have taken some notice of their questions. I would 
 sometimes tell them that the constitution of the United 
 States required that the people should be numbered 
 once in ten years; I would sometimes tell them that it 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 217 
 
 was the law ofthe land. They would sometimes reply 
 in the following language^ " Why, can t our rulers find 
 nothing else to do, but to make such foolish and wicked 
 laws?" 
 
 On an evening towards the going down of the sun, I 
 was coasting down a beautiful little creek which made 
 out of the Piscataqua river, thickly lined with small 
 houses on each side. 1 called at a small house, standing 
 twenty feet from the margin of the creek, and probably 
 twenty feet above its surface. The old lady was busy 
 near the end door, from which a flight of stairs led down 
 to the creek. 
 
 The old gentleman had just arrived from the ocean 
 with a fare offish, a business which he had probably fol 
 lowed more than fiftv years. He seemed quite decrep- 
 id, deaf, and sat in his canoe, heaving out his fishes. I 
 modestly informed the good old lady what my business 
 was. c< Numbering the people!" exclaimed the good 
 woman, " what do you want to number the people for? 
 do you want to bring the judgments of God upon the 
 land? don t you know what David did? I don t believe 
 tis right," turning to the old gentleman and raising her 
 voice, " do you father?" " What is it?" said the old 
 man. (t Why, here is a man taking the number ofthe 
 people, and I don t believe tis right, do you father?" 
 " Believe," said he, " I don t believe nothing about it; 
 I know it ari t right!" 
 
 In this case, as well as in many others, I had to make 
 the best of it. I was obliged to luff and bear away, as 
 circumstances required. In visiting two or three thou 
 sand families, without selection or exception, there is 
 something to be learned. A person of sensibility and 
 penetration, possessing the power of description, in pas 
 sing through such a scene, might present an instructive 
 picture to the inquisitive and observing; but for myself, 
 I must get along with my simple narrative without any 
 such exhibitions. 
 
 Anterior to this, I had supposed that the more igno 
 rant and wretched part of community was to be found in 
 the back woods, but when I came to travel over and 
 around the mountains in old York, well known to sailort 
 19 
 
218 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 by the name of Agamentaeus, and to visit from house to 
 house about Kittery Point, Cape Neddock, and Cape 
 Porpoise, I formed a different opinion. A large propor 
 tion of the inhabitants of this region, get their living 
 principally by fishing, and within a few years previous to 
 this, there had been a great destruction among the fish 
 ermen. In one storm, there were probably from twen 
 ty to thirty women left widows, and probably more than 
 a hundred children left fatherless, in the town of Kit 
 tery. I recollect calling on one poor old widow, who 
 was surrounded by four or five little ragged grand chil 
 dren; one of their parents was dead and the other had 
 deserted them; but I cannot now remember whether it 
 was the father or mother. 
 
 The old lady having told me her pitiful story, asked 
 me if I would give her a little money to buy the children 
 some bread. I never had so many applications made to 
 me for alms, before or since, as while I was in this ser 
 vice; and as I never was without change in my pocket, 
 I never felt myself at liberty to refuse, nor did I conclude 
 that the few dollars I disposed of in this way, were lost. 
 I considered it, as Dr. Scott termed his charities, " seed 
 corn;" though I had the mortification afterwards to learn 
 that some of it went for rum. 
 
 In the new back country, although they sometimes 
 have but little preaching, and that in private houses or 
 barns, yet the people in general make it their practice 
 to attend, let their apparel be what it may. But in those 
 towns on the sea coast, there are many persons who 
 probably do not go into a meeting-house once in seven 
 years. 
 
 One cause for this is, that a large portion of commu- 
 uity who attend meetings, dress so much better than the 
 poor, that they are ashamed to go. They are suspicious 
 that the rich and gay will look down on them with con 
 tempt. They will sometimes, in vindication of the prac 
 tice, argue that they * have a bible and other good 
 books, and they think they can get as much good by 
 reading as they can by going to meeting." But I am 
 inclined to think that in general when people become 
 habituated to absent themselves from meeting) that the/ 
 
ANDRIW SHERBURNE. 219 
 
 shortly become habituated to neglect their " bible and 
 other good books." 
 
 I was occasionally requested to visit the sick, and in 
 some instances those who were near the borders of eter 
 nity, through intemperance. 
 
 1 realized but little inconvenience in regard to preach 
 ing. My pulpit was constantly supplied, either by my- 
 sejf, or through an exchange with some brother; and as 
 I was not employed by the day, I could occasionally 
 gratify my friends by giving a lecture. I had never been 
 in the habit of confining myself exclusively to study; my 
 circumstances would not admit of it. It was rarely the 
 case, however, that I spoke from a text without some 
 previous reflections. 
 
 It was common for me to arrange my subjects while 
 riding or walking alone, or while engaged in some other 
 business, sometimes "in wakeful hours by night." I 
 have, however, sometimes spoken from the impulse of 
 the present moment, and found as much liberty in speak 
 ing as when I had most attentively studied and arranged 
 my subjects. But I have never found myself so much 
 embarrassed for something to say, and that according to 
 truth, too, as I have to find in myself those internal and 
 external qualifications which Paul has declared neces 
 sary for a minister of the gospel. 
 
 In November, an afflicting circumstance occurred in 
 my society. Mr. Luther Walker, (whose father was a 
 member of our church, and a neighbor to me,) returned 
 from the West Indies, very sick of a contagious fever. 
 He was too ill to be taken home to his father s house, 
 five or six miles distance, and was conveyed to Mr. An 
 drew Walker s, his uncle, who lived near the Port. He 
 was here confined, extremely ill a part of the time, for a 
 week or two; but at length so far recovered as to be con 
 veyed home. Mr. A. Walker s wife, and Jane, his el 
 dest daughter, were members of our church. 
 
 About the time that Luther was taken away, Jane be 
 gan to complain; Mary and Susan, the two next, were 
 also attacked with the same disease; arid shortly after, 
 Palmer, Sophia, Lydia, Joseph, and Anna were confin 
 ed, and last of all, Mrs. Walker herself. Mr. W. and 
 
220 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Andrew the youngest son, only escaped this distressing 
 lever. 
 
 In about a week or ten days, Jane died, strong in the 
 faith. She was one of the most devoted and exemplary 
 young persons I was ever acquainted with : she was about 
 twenty. Mary, about eighteen, and Joseph, about eight, 
 were in a few days after laid by the side of Jane. The 
 others recovered, and a young widow also, who took the 
 same fever in the family. The neighbors were so much 
 alarmed, that they were afraid to go to the house. It 
 was a fortunate circumstance that Mr. Walker himself, 
 was not sick. Dr. Langdon, their physician, was inde 
 fatigable in his attention, and sat up with them many 
 nights. In the course of their sickness, I watched with 
 them seventeen nights, and several gentlemen from the 
 Port, especially Messrs. John and Samuel Davis, were 
 particularly attentive. 
 
 This calamity retarded me in my business, and I was 
 liable to a heavy fine, if I failed to make out my return 
 in due season. But Mr. W. was one of my most inti 
 mate friends, and he was desirous that I should pay all 
 the attention I possibly could to his family, and told me 
 that if I was fined, he would pay it himself. I however, 
 succeeded, and made out my return in season, to the en 
 tire satisfaction of the marshal. From the avails of this 
 service, I was enabled to discharge some of my debts, 
 and to procure some necessaries that we could not well 
 do without. Thus God, in his abounding mercy towards 
 me, graciously supplied my wants, so that I had a com 
 fortable living, and myself and family could make a re 
 spectable appearance. 
 
 For thirteen or fourteen years, I taught the school of 
 the district, in which I resided, three or four months in 
 a year; and at length had the gratification of seeing some 
 of my earliest female scholars, lead their little ones to 
 my school. 
 
 In the year 1807, I was, by Governor Sullivan, com 
 missioned as the chaplain of the sixth regiment in the 
 first brigade and sixth division of the militia of the com 
 monwealth of Massachusetts. This office I sustained 
 r ten years, little suspecting, however, when I ac- 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 221 
 
 cepted the appointment, that I should ever be called to 
 any other services than a regimental review: but in this 
 I was mistaken, for after the war commenced, in 1812, 
 there were ten thousand, if my memory is correct, of the 
 militia of the commonwealth, detached to defend the 
 coast, &c. The major and several companies, with my 
 self, were detached from our regiment, to be stationed at 
 Kittery point for the defence of Portsmouth harbor : 
 but when Governor Strong was elected, he countermand 
 ed those orders, so that we never took that station. We 
 had something, however, to attend to nearer home; for 
 the enemy committed depredations on our coast, within 
 a few miles of us, more than once. Our regiment was 
 once called out to defend our own harbor, but the enemy 
 did not think it best to land. They entered Saco harbor, 
 a few miles to the east of us, took several vessels, and 
 burnt one on the stocks. They chased a privateer ship 
 on shore, within a mile of our harbor, and finally captur 
 ed her, got her off and took her away. It was said that 
 the privateer had on board a number of deserters from 
 the British navy, but they made their escape before the 
 enemy got possession of the privateer. Had they fallen 
 into the hands of the British, they would probably have 
 been hanged. We had hard times, in consequence of 
 the embargo and war, and had to endure many priva 
 tions. At one time Indian corn was two and a half dol 
 lars per bushel, and many were entirely destitute of bread 
 for weeks together; but our sufferings were nothing, in 
 comparison with many others, in different sections of our 
 country. 
 
 In the year 1814, I was appointed one of the assist 
 ant asssessors of the direct tax. My district consisted 
 of the towns of Wells and Arundel. I was at that time, 
 as might well be expected, in narrow circumstances; as 
 was also a large proportion of my fellow citizens. Any 
 legal means to increase our funds, was very desirable. 
 I never sought for the office, however, either directly or 
 indirectly, nor did I know any thing of the matter, un 
 til Daniel Wood, Esq. the principal assessor, called on 
 me with a commission, and other documents made out 
 in my name. I viewed the hand of divine proridence 
 19* 
 
MEMOIRS OF 
 
 in this, and thought it my duty to accept the office. I 
 afterwards ascertained that Judge Thatcher, \rho kept 
 the post-office in Kennebunk, and was afterwards the 
 collector of the revenue at Eastport, recommended me. 
 This business, however, proved very fatiguing and un 
 pleasant, and we earned the small pittance which gov 
 ernment allowed for this service, at a dear rate. It was 
 winter season, and we had short time allowed us in 
 which to perform the service, and were much exposed 
 to inclement weather. A large proportion of the peo 
 ple were hostile to the measures of government. The of 
 ficers of the large town of Wells would not permit me to 
 have the least access to their town documents; of course 
 I had much difficulty in making out lists of valuation, 
 and although I was treated with politeness by many of 
 the refined part of the community, yet there were those 
 of high standing, who would encourage and counten 
 ance the vulgar to insult and abuse me. Sometimes I 
 had my horse turned loose, and sometimes his harness 
 was cut. In some places I felt in danger, if out in the 
 evening. In one instance a merchant, who had held 
 high and responsible offices, gave a weak and clamorous 
 woman a quarter of a pound of tea, because she had 
 treated me with insolent and abusive language. One 
 lady, (if such a title be proper,) threatened to drive me 
 cut of the house with her broom-stick. Numbers were 
 very loquacious, but not altogether so determined for 
 war. These circumstances discover in some degree, 
 what was at that period the spirit of the times. - 
 
 About the winding up of this business, as I was re 
 turning home on Saturday evening with a bushel of In 
 dian corn on my horse, for which I had just paid two 
 dollars and fifty cents, I was passing the dwelling of an 
 old Baptist deacon. I knew he had recently been very 
 sick, but had just got out again, and I saw him a little 
 before me, staggering along with some wood on his 
 shoulder. He was a very poor man, and remarkably pi- 
 ou?, I contrasted the old gentleman s condition with 
 my own, and in a moment felt an impression to give the 
 old saint a quarter of a dollar. About sixty cents was 
 all the money I was master of, and this I had in small 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 223 
 
 change; 1 therefore questioned the propriety of divid 
 ing my little purse so equally with this man, and quer 
 ied whether half the sum would not do, but durst not re 
 ject the first impression. My wife was at this time in poor 
 health, though not destitute of the common comforts of 
 life, and I again queried whether it was expedient for me 
 thus to part with my money. It would be some time 
 before 1 should get my money for my services, and that 
 would not be sufficient to pay all my debts: but by the 
 time I had got up with my old brother, and enquired 
 about his health he told me he had been very sick, &c. 
 It was about the setting of the sun, and I had about 
 four miles to ride, and felt in haste, but my conscience 
 would not suffer me to leave him, until I had given the 
 little sum of twenty-five cents. The old man was ex 
 ceeding grateful, and began to lavish encomiums on my 
 wife for deeds of charity towards him, but his manner of 
 speaking induced me to be off as soon as I could, and I 
 went on my way, more at ease, I believe, than I should, 
 if I had withholden the little sum, or any part of it. On 
 reflection, I felt not a little ashamed that my covetous 
 heart should object to a duty so obvious. By this simple 
 narration I do not mean to sound a trumpet before me, 
 but to exhibit the especial mercy of God towards me. 
 
 The next day being the Lord s day, I preached twice 
 in our meeting-house, and had an appointment at a school 
 house at the Port, at five o clock, which was about five 
 miles from our meeting-house. Just as I was going in 
 to the school-house, a gentleman requested me to give 
 an opportunity for a contribution, before I closed the 
 meeting, but did not inform me on what account. The 
 contribution was taken, and after the meeting was dis 
 missed, a gentleman put their contribution into my hand 
 amounting to about twenty dollars. It was entirely un 
 expected by me; there had never such a thing taken 
 place there before, to my knowledge. The first thought 
 that came to my mind, was the twenty-five cents I had 
 parted with about twenty-four hours before. The wise 
 man tells us to u cast our bread upon the waters, and 
 that we shall find it after many days;" but in this case, 
 with me, it was not many days before I gathered about 
 
224 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 eighty fold. Thus the Almighty arm, which had been 
 so often extended to pluck rne from the grave, was mer 
 cifully extended to supply my wants. 
 
 It seemed as if there was never a more seasonable 
 supply, or one more unexpected. My wife was declin 
 ing under the pressure of a distressing disease a poly 
 pus, which eventually brought her to her grave. 1 could 
 not bear that she should be in want of any thing which [ 
 could possibly procure for her comfort. I could indeed 
 obtain any of the necessaries of life I wished, on credit; 
 but was unwilling to increase my debts, without some 
 promising prospects of discharging them. The winter 
 of 1815, was a period of uncommon affliction in my 
 family. My wife s disease increased to an alarming de 
 gree: she was unable to lie down in her bed for many 
 months, and she was obliged to sit almost erect, either in 
 bed or in on easy chair, and frequently so much distres 
 sed for breath for some minutes, as to alarm the whole 
 family. At the same time, Betsey, our adopted daugh 
 ter, about twenty years of age, was HO out of health, 
 that she was incapable of taking charge of the family. 
 A few years before, she had had such a violent attack of 
 typhus fever, that she never after recovered her health. 
 I was obliged, of course, to employ two or three females 
 in my family for a number of months. Medical endeav 
 ors seemed to be of no avail, in behalf of either my wife 
 or daughter. The church and society, and all my neigh 
 bors, were exceeding kind. I w r as also under especial 
 obligations to individuals of the Congregational society, 
 from whom I received signal favors. 
 
 At this period, I was in the fiftieth year of my ftgev I 
 call the first twenty-five years of my life the morning of 
 my days. This was overcast and frequently boisterous, 
 but my meridian was bright and almost cloudless. It is 
 true, that in a period so eventful for wrecking and over 
 turning ol empires and kingdoms, it was to be expected 
 that I should have to endure those little crosses and per 
 plexities to which mortals generally are subject; but I 
 liad no trials to be compared with those which I had 
 previously suffered. That righteous God, who had in 
 dulged me with so much prosperity in the meridian of 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 225 
 
 my life, saw cause to reserve for me some adversity for 
 the evening of my days, which has proved to be dark 
 and stormy. It is possible, nevertheless, that my sun 
 may set clear; which may God, of his infinite mercy 
 grant, through Jesus Christ my Lord. 
 
 The winter of 1814 15, was a trying season to me. 
 There appeared no prospect of my wife s recovery, and 
 but very little in favor of my daughter. 
 
 Towards the spring of 1815, the physicians seemed to 
 indulge some faint hopes that Mrs. B. might recover, 
 but were soon convinced that their hopes were abort 
 ive. She endured her very distressing illness with re 
 markable fortitude and patience, until the first day of 
 June, when she serenely departed this life, without a 
 struggle or a groan, that she might rest from her labors, 
 and enter into the joys of her Lord. In the 4?th num 
 ber of the Massachusetts Baptist Missionary Magazine, 
 No. 11, of vol. 4, pages 372 and 373, was published a 
 biographical memoir of Mrs. Sherburne, written by the 
 Rev. Wm. Bachelder, late of Haverhill, Mass., de 
 ceased. 
 
 Those only who have had the experience of losing 
 the wife of their youth, can fully enter into the feelings 
 of such an one. To me, at that time, the world seemed 
 completely revolutionized; yet I presume that my case 
 was not different from many others. We had lived to 
 gether almost twenty-four years. She left an only son, 
 in the twentieth year of his age: he has always been 
 sickly. My daughter was so unwell that she could not 
 attend her mother s funeral. Towards the fall, howev 
 er, she partially recovered her health, but not so as to be 
 able to take care of the family. 
 
226 MEMOIRS or 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Takes an appointment as a Missionary He marries 
 again Defers his Mission and preaches several 
 months at South Reading Goes on a Mission in the 
 States of New- York and Pennsylvania Removes 
 icithhis family to Ohio Dangers m descending- the 
 Allfghany and Ohio Inflammation of the eyes 
 Family sick Himself sick in Ohio On his return 
 from Ohio, he is taken sick in Middletown, Con. 
 Arrives at Kennebunk Returns to Ohio and removes 
 his family into the State of N. York. 
 
 FOR several years last past, while my wife was in 
 heath, 1 had felt strongly inclined to go to the State of 
 Ohio. Under the impression that the land was cheap 
 and good, and having but one son, and he but a feeble 
 thing, I was very desirous to procure and leave a little 
 inheritance for him; if, in the order of Divine Provi 
 dence, he should survive me. But my wife could nev 
 er endure the thoughts of leaving the place where she 
 was very happily united with the little church, that, un 
 der God, we had been the instruments of raising up, 
 (for she was indeed a help-meet, both temporally and 
 spiritually,) nor could I feel myself at liberty to remove 
 without her consent. 
 
 I had no prospect of paying my debts, without selling 
 my little farm, consisting of about thirty-seven acres of 
 land. Elder Bachelder, formerly of Berwick, but at 
 that time pastor of the Baptist church in Ha verb ill, was 
 an intimate acquaintance, and a particular friend of 
 mine. He was a member of the board of the Massachu 
 setts Missionary Society, and proposed to me to engage 
 in a three months mission in the interior of the State of 
 New-Hampshire. When the board met, in the au 
 tumn of 1815, they gave me the appointment for three 
 mouths, but I found it very difficult to leave either my 
 family or the church and society. The situation of my 
 family was such that I was obliged to hire one girl con- 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 227 
 
 stantly, and sometimes two. I therefore thought it ex 
 pedient that I should marry again, and in December, 
 1815, I married Miss Betsey Miller, a young woman 
 whom I had baptized about thirteen years before. In 
 the summer of 1816, I attended the Warren Associa 
 tion, as a messenger from the New-Hampshire Associa 
 tion, to which all the churches in the county of York, in 
 Maine, at that time belonged. 
 
 My object in attending the Warren Association, was 
 to obtain an interview with the members of the mission 
 ary board, and if agreeable to them, to perform my mis 
 sionary services in the State of New- York, instead of 
 New-Hampshire. In a conference with Dr. Baldwin, 
 the chairman of the board, he presumed that the board 
 would have no objection, and proposed that I should take 
 a mission for six months. The board was to meet the 
 next week, on the day preceding the sitting of Boston 
 Association. On the Sabbath between the sitting of the 
 Warren and Baptist Associations, I was requested to 
 preach to the Baptist church in South Reading, ten 
 miles from Boston. This church being at that time des 
 titute of a pastor, and understanding that I contemplat- 
 ted going on a mission, requested that I should spend 
 the time with them. I informed them that I did not feel 
 myself at liberty to serve them, unless the measure 
 should meet the cordial approbation of the board. The 
 church therefore appointed a committee to confer with 
 the board on the subject, who willingly complied with 
 the request of the church, and also agreed to employ me 
 six months on a mission, if it would agree with my 
 wishes. 
 
 I served this church about four months, and was very 
 agreeably accommodated in the family of Mr. Thomas 
 Evans, brother to elder George Evans. This church 
 would have employed me longer, but I had so great a 
 desire to travel in the western country, that I was resolv 
 ed, by God s permission, to goon the mission. 
 
 By my own request, the Baptist church and society in 
 Arundel had not raised any tax for me for a number of 
 years; for after the embargo, and the subsequent war 
 commenced, a large proportion of the people found it 
 
223 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 very difficult to support their families. There are gen* 
 erally some delinquents: there were individuals of the 
 society who insisted that delinquents should be distrain 
 ed upon for their taxes. 
 
 At an annual meeting of the society, I remonstrated 
 against this measure, and observed that I could not feel 
 myself at liberty to take any man s money that was forc 
 ed away from him. I told them I would serve them as 
 long as I could, and would take what individuals were 
 disposed to give me. Some highly applauded, and 
 others censured me, on account of the principles I pro 
 fessed. Some said they would continue to pay at the 
 same rate that they had previously done; and others said 
 they would give me more: in fact there were numbers 
 who were not able to give any thing. I do not recol 
 lect to have heard any complaint when I engaged in the 
 aforesaid mission. 
 
 On the first day of February, 1817, I set out on my 
 mission. I passed through Concord, in New-Hamp 
 shire, and Northampton, in Massachusetts, and crossed 
 the Green Mountains in Beckett. The weather on the 
 14th was the most severe 1 had ever experienced. I left 
 elder Silas Kingsley s, at 9 o clock, A. M. and rode 
 about four miles, to Elieda Kingsjey s, and found that 
 one of my thumbs was frozen. I stopped two or three 
 hours, and started again, and arrived at the house of a 
 good old brother, Henry Veats, on the height of land, 
 and found I had frozen both cheeks and one ear. I was 
 exceedingly chilled, but in this friendly family every at 
 tention was paid me. I afterwards learned that a num 
 ber had perished that day, which was denominated the 
 cold Friday. The next day I arrived at elder Jesse 
 Hartwell s, in New-Marlborough. 
 
 I had been instructed by the missionary board, to call 
 on elder Hartwell, and travel with him to the county of 
 Bradford, Pa. where he was to leave me, and proceed 
 on his mission to the State of Ohio. My labors were 
 confined principally to the county of Bradford, until th 
 first of July. On the second of July, I assisted in the 
 ordination of elder Levi Baldwin, in the State of New- 
 York, not far from Oswego village, and on the fourth of 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 229 
 
 July I assisted in the ordination of elder Benjamin 
 Ovett, at the court-house in Spencer, in Tioga county, 
 State of New- York. I preached on both those occa 
 sions. 
 
 I continued to journey westerly, preaching alternate 
 ly in New-York and Pennsylvania, and arrived at An 
 gelica, in Alleghany county, New-York, on the twenty- 
 first of July. Here I had the satisfaction of receiving 
 a letter from my family, from which I had been absent 
 almost six months, and another from elder Daniel Sharp, 
 Secretary of the hoard, informing me that I was author 
 ized to continue my mission four months longer. I visi 
 ted Olean point, on the Alleghany river, and coasted up 
 that river about twenty-five miles into Pennsylvania. I 
 then travelled northerly to the head waters of the Catta- 
 rau^us, and westerly down that river to Lodi, within 
 eight miles of Lake Erie. I then returned by a differ 
 ent route to Angelica, and then took my old track 
 through the counties of Steuben and Tioga, in New- 
 York^ and in Tioga and Bradford, in Pennsylvania. I 
 then coasted up the Susquehannah to Chenango Point, 
 and up the Chenango to Norwich. I then considered 
 myself off missionary ground, and made the best of my 
 way home, where I arrived about Christmas, after hav 
 ing been absent frommy family and friends almost eleven 
 months. 
 
 During my absence, I had a son born, on the first day 
 of August, whose name we call Andrew Miller. There 
 is, therefore, ulmost twenty-twolyears difference in the 
 age of my first and second son. 
 
 As my report of this mission was published in the 
 Massachusetts Baptist Missionary Magazine, I have 
 thought best to give but a short sketch of my travels, 
 <fec. I would observe, however, that I spent most of 
 iny time in the newest settlements, where the roads in 
 general were very bad, and in a season when provisions 
 were more scarce than they had ever been since the set 
 tlement of that country. 
 
 Some of the people had to go sixty miles for grain; 
 and some of the poorer inhabitants begged the bran of 
 those who were in better circumstances, to make bread 
 20 
 
230 MEMOIRS O F 
 
 of, and some were entirely destitute for many days, 
 A person engaging in such a mission must calculate 
 to endure much fatigue, and many privations. To trav 
 el frequently, five, ten and sometimes fifteen miles or 
 more, without seeing a single human dwelling, in a dark 
 woods and muddy road, four or five hundred miles from 
 home, and altogether among strangers, is calculated to 
 excite some gloomy feelings and prompt a wish to enjoy 
 the pleasures of one s own fire side, and the pleasant 
 circle of intimate friends and acquaintance. 
 
 It is no small alleviation to such feelings, however, to 
 fall in with a family by whom you are most cordially 
 greeted as a father, or a brother, who has been long ab 
 sent; or to fall in with a little assembly, whose ears and 
 hearts are open to hear u the words of this life." 
 
 I never had occasion to complain of meeting with a 
 cold reception, in any family I visited in all this long 
 tour. 
 
 I never attended a single funeral in all the time I was 
 absent from home; but on my return, I found that near 
 ly fifty of my acquaintance in Arundel and in the towns 
 adjacent were no more. The principal object which 
 induced me to request the board to change my mission 
 from New-Hampshire to New- York, was, that I might 
 find a proper place to which I could remove my family. 
 Mr. Timothy Kezer, of Kennebunk, of the Baptist 
 church, and an intimate friend of mine, had resolved to 
 remove into some part of the western country, and it 
 was our mutual wish to settle in the same neighborhood. 
 
 When I returned from my missionary tour, I found 
 that Mr. Kezer had removed to the state of Ohio, and 
 settled himself in the town of Batavia, in the county 
 ofClermont, about twenty miles from Cincinnati. I 
 immediately wrote him, ami shortly after received a very 
 friendly and pleasing answer. I was resolved to follow 
 him. The next summer I sold my place, paid my debts, 
 and procured a span of good horses and a new wagon, 
 and got ready to start for Ohio on the twenty-fifth of 
 August, 1818. 
 
 Although I had no family connexions in this place, it 
 was no small trial to leave a large circle of interesting 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 231 
 
 friends, where I had spent fifteen of my happiest years. 
 To me, however, it appeared the path of duty, and al 
 though the order of a wise and mysterious providence 
 cannot be reversed, I have since, been fully convinced, 
 that in this undertaking I did not make it a subject of 
 prayer, and humble inquiry before God, as I should 
 have done, and that I was by far too much impelled by 
 worldly interest. 
 
 My impressions were, that if my life should be con 
 tinued a few years, I might leave my family in the pos 
 session of a good farm in Ohio, which would prove to 
 them a comfortable support. 
 
 Little did I apprehend of the trials through which I 
 had to pass, and the dangers to which I was to be ex 
 posed. 
 
 According to our purpose we set out on the twenty- 
 fifth of August, and 1 having acquaintance all the way to 
 Boston, it was thought best to commence this long jour 
 ney by short stages. When we took our leave of friends 
 and acquaintance along the way, it was under the im 
 pression that we should see each other s face no more 
 in this state of existence. 
 
 In South Reading I left my family and team at my 
 old friend, Thomas Evans , several days, while I visited 
 my friends in Boston. In Reading, my wife had a gen 
 erous present in shoes, from Mr. B. B. Willey, which 
 supplied her for a number of years. The same gentle 
 man had made her several valuable presents before. In 
 such ways the favors of divine providence are manifest 
 ed. 
 
 Nothing remarkable transpired with us until we came 
 within two miles of the village of Belchertown, in Mas 
 sachusetts, where I had designed to put up that night; 
 but just as the sun was sitting, our hinder axle broke 
 down. This circumstance, at such a time of the day, 
 placed us in a very unpleasant predicament. Our child, 
 (a little more than a year old,) was quite troublesome. 
 It was therefore my first concern to get a harbor for my 
 wife and child. In this I had good success, and got 
 them in with a friendly family, about thirty rods from 
 my wagon; which was in such a narrow place in the 
 
232 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 road that another tenm could not pass. I had therefore 
 to unload it and get it out of the way. The next day I 
 got my family and goods to the village, and put up 
 with elder Marshall, who had recently moved into the 
 place. On inspecting my wagon, it was found neces 
 sary to have a new set of axletrees, and it being Satur 
 day, we had no prospect of getting under way again un 
 til Monday, for I never travelled any on the Sabbath un 
 til I got on the Alleghany river. We were hospitably 
 entertained by elder M. I preached for him on the 
 Sabbath, and on Monday afternoon got ready to set out 
 again. 
 
 We pursued our journey towards Albany, but had to 
 hire a team to help us over the mountains. At Albany 
 we called at elder Joshua Bradley s, He was at that 
 time attending the commencement at Brown Universi 
 ty, but his lady treated us with marked attention. Here 
 we spent another Sabbath, and I preached part of the 
 day to the Baptist church. We had gone but a few 
 miles from Albany before we were obliged to get our 
 axletrees shortened, and this circumstance compelled 
 us to fix a bolster on our hind axletree, so as to raise the 
 body of the wagon above the naves of the wheels. The 
 eastern people made so little use of wagons, that tbey 
 knew no better than to secure the body of the wagon 
 on the hinder axle, nor had I knowledge enough to give 
 any better directions. 
 
 Before I set out on this journey, I had designed to 
 have kept a journal, but I had so many other cares, and 
 was so fully employed, that I never wrote a single line 
 in my book. Although my memory is very treacherous, 
 yet the most important occurrences are fresh in my mind. 
 
 At this time the tide of emigration was sitting strong 
 ly to the West. When I was at Olean Point, in the 
 summer of 1817, I was told that more than three hun 
 dred families descended the Alleghany in the spring 
 freshet, and I think it highly probable that as many went 
 into the western states by the way of Pittsburg and 
 along lake Erie. Mr. Kezer informed me that he saw 
 two rafts of boards lashed together, from Olean, on 
 which were thirteen families, their wagons, and part of 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 233 
 
 their horses. He also mentioned an instance, in which 
 a raft from Olean brought down more than one hundred 
 persons. 
 
 It cost some of those families all their property to 
 move into that country, and indeed many set out who 
 were almost destitute of property when they started. 
 The emigrants generally furnished their own provisions, 
 and paid a certain rate at taverns for the use of cook 
 ing utensils and table furniture; and in most instances 
 carried their own beds to sleep on. In many instances 
 they were not very welcome guests at taverns, as there 
 was not much to be gained by such customers. Wher 
 ever we put up at a tavern, we hired our lodging. 
 Whenever I could make it convenient, I put up with my 
 Baptist brethren. 
 
 One evening I put up at a public house in a small vil 
 lage, and in the morning there was an appearance of a 
 heavy storm. I enquired of the landlord whether there 
 were any Baptist farmersonthe road, afew miles ahead; 
 he could not inform me of any, but observed that there 
 was a Baptist lawyer, who had an office in the village. 
 I called at his office to make the enquiry. I wished to 
 have gone on six or eight miles, as I had a covered wag 
 on, but the lawyer chose to have me go to his own 
 house; and when he came home at noon, (for he was 
 engaged in business in his office,) he requested that we 
 would make ourselves contented until he should think 
 it proper for us to go on. We tarried several days, 
 one of which was the Sabbath, and when we went on, 
 this lady bountifully replenished our stock of provisions. 
 I believe he was the first Baptist lawyer I had ever seen. 
 
 When I got on to Rushford, in the Holland purchase, 
 I struck on to my old missionary track, where we were 
 courteously received and entertained by Messrs. Free 
 man, Going, M Call and Benjamin. We tarried with 
 these friends a week or ten days, in which time I visited 
 Olean, and they would have us tarry longer. We were 
 now within thirty miles of Olean, but the water was not 
 sufficiently high for boats to descend the river. 
 
 Judge M Call advised me to go no farther; but I had 
 set my face to go to Ohio, and to Ohio I must go. 
 20* 
 
234 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 When I was at Olean, the year before, I had made 
 my principal home at Judge Brooks ; and he engaged, 
 that in case I should move my family, lie would take me 
 into his house, and accordingly did so. There were 
 probably a hundred families new waiting for the water 
 to rise, that they might descend the river; and the num 
 ber daily increasing. Many of them could obtain no 
 other habitation than their wagons, until they could pro 
 cure boards or slabs, to build what they called a shantce. 
 They would, with boards, stakes and withes, build a kind 
 of sheep s pen, and cover it with boards or slabs, fre 
 quently without any floor but the ground, and sometimes 
 two or three families would camp together in those 
 shantces. 
 
 In this little village, situated among large smutty pine 
 stumps, were five or six taverns, three or four stores, 
 and probably twenty or thirty other houses. It was a 
 place of real speculation. Among the emigrants wero 
 characters of almost all descriptions: some very rich, 
 and others extremely poor. Speculators were there 
 from various parts of the country, for the purpose of 
 buying up horses from the emigrants, who were fre 
 quently glad to get rid of them, at almost any price, 
 as horse keeping was very high. They could seldom 
 sell them for cash, but were obliged to take goods at 
 an extravagant price. Olean point was denominated 
 the "jumping off place" as frequently persons in des 
 perate circumstances would "clear out," (as it was cal 
 led,) and hasten to this place, step or jump on board the 
 first boat in which they could obtain a passage, and be 
 off. Sometimes, however, they were overtaken by a 
 wife, or a creditor, before they had opportunity to em 
 bark. A small unfinished rcom would let for a dollar 
 per week, and there were many erected for that purpose. 
 
 Provisions were very dear; flour at six dollars per hun 
 dred; bacon and butter at twenty-five cents per pound, 
 and other provisions in proportion. We were detained 
 seven weeks in this place, before there was a sufficiency 
 of water in the Alleghany for boats to descend. My horses 
 cost me one hundred and forty dollars, but I did not sell 
 them for more than half that price. 
 
ANDREW 3HERBURNE, 
 
 One Major Shepherd, with whom I had some acquain 
 tance at Tioga point, the year before, had built a con 
 venient boat to take his family down the river. He of 
 fered me a passage for ten dollars. I took my family on 
 board on the second day of December, in the afternoon, 
 and in company with several boats pushed off for Ohio; 
 having on board several passengerSj who boarded with 
 Major Shepherd. 
 
 We had already been almost four months on our jour 
 ney; and our long detention at Olean the excessive 
 high price of house-rent, and provisions together with 
 the approach of winter, and the probability of the fall of 
 the river in a short time all conspired to induce us to 
 hasten on our journey. 
 
 I was much pleased on pushing off into the channel of 
 the Alleghany, in company with lour or five other boats. 
 Imagination could scarcely paint a more pleasant scene. 
 It was perfectly calm; the river about fifty yards wide in 
 this place, and beautifully overhung on either side with 
 majestic and spreading trees. The gentle current, slo 
 ping banks, and serpentine course, presented such a 
 beautiful prospect as could not fail to elevate the mind 
 of any one possessed of sensibility. 
 
 I had now once more launched out upon this delusive 
 and treacherous element, which had heretofore, in so 
 many instances, proved so disastrous. I scarcely anti 
 cipated any further difficulty, until we should have arrived 
 on the pleasant banks of the Ohio. As we were thus se 
 curely gliding down the stream, without the least appre 
 hension of danger, at about the going down of the sun, 
 we ran upon an old log in the middle of the river, and 
 stuck fast. To my shame I would speak it, I did not 
 apply the admonition of Watts, in the following lines, 
 while I was feasting my fancy: 
 
 " We should suspect some danger nigh, 
 When we possess delight. * 
 
 We immediately got out our setting poles, and found 
 the water to be about ten feet deep, and the log elevated 
 from the bottom at an angle of about forty or fifty de- 
 
236 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 grees. We could wheel our boat round and round on 
 the log, but could not get her off. It was indeed appal 
 ling to be thus fast moored, and see the other boats of 
 our little fleet all pass by and leave us. 
 
 We were in league with a Mr. Abbott, who had his 
 sons and sons-in-law, and daughters and daughters-in- 
 law with him, in a boat about as large as ours. They 
 having gone on about a mile, and finding that we did not 
 come on, were faithful to their engagements, landed, and 
 came back to our assistance. But it was now nearly 
 dark, and we had no skiff or canoe, and lay fast in the 
 middle of the river, in ten feet of water. There was no 
 alternative for us but to remain where we were until 
 morning, although in imminent danger of filling and sink 
 ing; for the bow of our boat was already six inches higher 
 than our stern, and the river was falling, and the more 
 the river fell, the more our danger increased. As might 
 be expected, our women were much frightened; and if 
 the men were equally so, they kept it to themselves. 
 
 We having on board a Mr. S. a Free-will Baptist 
 preacher, and a deacon M., a Presbyterian, as might be 
 expected, we had prayers that evening. God was gra 
 ciously pleased to preserve us until morning, and our 
 comrades came early to our assistance. They cut two 
 or three long poles, and lashed end to end so as to reach 
 us. We caught the poles and chained them to our boat, 
 and the men on shore, by my direction, rigged what sail 
 ors call a " Spanish windlass," and shortly drew us off 
 the log. To our great joy we rejoined our comrades, 
 and went on pleasantly: but alas! there were yet trou 
 bles ahead. 
 
 We shortly came in sight of several boats which were 
 fast upon the ripples, and the men out in the water en 
 deavoring to heave them along with handspikes, and it 
 was shortly our lot to be in the same predicament. We 
 all succeeded however in getting over; and passing on 
 a few miles, found ourselves in a similar condition, and 
 we had repeated scenes of this kind that day, and at 
 night stopped at the head of Jemmison s islands, which 
 were dangerous to pass. The channel was narrow and 
 crooked, and the water very rapid, and there were some 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 237 
 
 dangerous obstructions in the way. On the morning of 
 the third day, we found ourselves surrounded with ice. 
 We lay in a cove where the water was still, and the ice 
 was about an inch thick. We broke away the ice and 
 . pushed into the stream, and descended the rapids without 
 injury. 
 
 Hitherto my age and infirmities had exempted me 
 from exposing myself to the water, but I was now oblig 
 ed to assist, for sometimes it took two or three boats 
 crews to get over a ripple. I was thus exposed two 
 days in succession, sometimes in the water half an hour 
 at a time, and sometimes up to my middle. On the fourth 
 night aftei we started, there came a heavy rain, and 
 raised the river five feet perpendicularly. The storm 
 terminated with snow, which was five or six inches deep. 
 The velocity of the current was now much increased, 
 which greatly facilitated our passage to Conawango 
 creek. Here were a number of large rafts of boards and 
 timber ready to set off. Their owners were depending on 
 men who might be coming down in boats, to help them 
 work their rafts. It was moreover an advantage to a 
 boat to join a raft, for they got along much faster, and 
 the raft men had the privilege of cooking, and sleeping 
 under cover, in the boat. 
 
 A Mr. Woodworth had two large rafts, with which he 
 was bound to Maysville, Kentucky. Mr. Abbott s boat 
 joined to one of those rafts, and our boat to the other. 
 It was Mr. Woodworth s design to join all together when 
 we got into the Ohio. 
 
 Our pilot had the misfortune to run our raft on to 
 Deadman s ripple, fifteen mihs below Pittsburg, about 
 an hour before day light. The other raft was at that 
 time some distance ahead. Our raft was swung round 
 by the stream and completely shut our boat in on the 
 head of the island. The water was fast falling, and it 
 was with difficulty we got off our boat. After some 
 hours labor, we proceeded on and came up with Wood- 
 worth s raft and Abbott s boat, at Beaver creek, thirty 
 miles from Pittsburg. The Ohio had fallen ten feet 
 since the last rain, and the ice was increasing very fast. 
 Two young men, who were going down in a skiff, very 
 
233 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 gladly joined our raft, and their skiff was of great ser 
 vice to us. By the time we got to Steubenville. seventy- 
 three miles from Pittsburg, the river was almost cov 
 ered with ice. I was under the necessity of landing at 
 Steubenville, to purchase a book called the navigator. 
 
 The river was so much obstructed with ice, we had 
 some difficulty in landing, and much greater in coming 
 up with our raft again, which we did not effect in some 
 hours. Our raft at length became entirely unmanagea 
 ble; in despite of all we could do, it would turn about in 
 the river, and the broken ice would pile up two or three 
 feet thick upon the raft when it swung round. 
 
 At length we were driven on the Kentucky shore, in 
 the night. We were all very much alarmed at the ter 
 rific rumbling of the raft against the ice and the shore. 
 The ice was in many places piled three or four feet thick 
 on the shore, and sometimes the large sheets of ice, con 
 taining three or four, and sometimes even ten acres, 
 would rush against the raft with a tremendous crash. 
 Fortunately for us, the boats were frozen fast to the raft, 
 and the ice on the side where the boats were, was much 
 firmer than elsewhere. 
 
 In the morning we succeeded in making fast to the 
 shore, but were soon broken away again by the ice. At 
 length, Mr. Burke, a lawyer, came down to the shore, 
 and advised us to fall a large sycamore tree into the riv 
 er, a little above our raft, in order to turn away the ice. 
 In this we succeeded, and had a safe harbor, where we 
 lay several days until the ice had chiefly ran out of the 
 river. By this time the raft had grounded; we then took 
 our boats, and in about three days we Janded at New 
 Richmond, twenty miles above Cincinnati, and ten miles 
 from Batavia, whither we were bound. 
 
 Major Shepherd went on to Cincinnatti, was violently 
 attacked with a fever, and died in about a week; he was 
 about forty-five years of age, and a fine, healthy, robust 
 man. He had been but very little more exposed than 
 myself, and when he left us, was in perfect health and 
 in good spirits. Thus my brothers, sisters, and acquain 
 tances, are cut down my comrades and shipmates have 
 fallen by hundreds, and I am still spared. May God, of 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 239 
 
 his infinite mercy, prepare me that I may be ready when 
 he calls. 
 
 The next day after \ve landed, I took a horse and went 
 to Batavia to see my friend Kezer, who had been long 
 looking for me. 1 was joyfully welcomed by the whole 
 family. His wife was an amiable woman, and highly 
 esteemed by all who were acquainted with her. The 
 next day Mr. K. procured a wagon and horses, and 
 also a span of horses for the wagon which I had taken 
 down the river with me, and on the following day he took 
 me and my family to his house, January 1st, 1819. I 
 was four months and five days on my tedious and ex 
 pensive journey. 
 
 Batavia in Ohio, now the county town of Clermont 
 county, is situated on the north bank of the east branch 
 of the little Miami river, ten miles from the Ohio, and 
 twenty from Cincinnati. Having hired a small house, 
 and partially settled my family concerns, 1 bought a horse 
 and visited a number of persons with whom I had been 
 acquainted in Maine. There was a Baptist church with 
 in three miles, but they had a pastor; there were several 
 others within fifteen miles, who were generally unsup- 
 plied with preachers. The Methodists occupied the 
 ground in Batavia, I however preached occasionally for 
 them. Towards spring my wife was quite out of health. 
 My son John was also enfeebled by an hemorrhage of the 
 lungs or stomach. Having a little money of his own, I 
 advised him to purchase some village lots which wre 
 then rising in value. He purchased four, containing one 
 acre of land, for which he gave one hundred and fifty 
 dollars. In six weeks after, he could have taken two 
 hundred dollars for them, but in six month** he could not 
 have obtained fifty dollars for the whole. 
 
 On the 16th of June, my third son was born. About 
 this time I read Riley s narrative; in consequence of 
 which I became so partial to Wm. Willshire, the British 
 Consul at Mogadore, that I was desirous to perpetuate 
 his name, not however to the exclusion of that of my 
 brother Samuel, whom I have before mentioned. We 
 therefore called the boy Samuel William Willshire. 
 About this time little Andrew began to decline rapid- 
 
240 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ly, under extreme weakness of the bowels, and there 
 seemed but little prospect of his recovery. In Septem 
 ber, I was exceedingly distressed with an inflammation 
 of the eyes, which continued several months. During 
 several weeks, I was obliged to keep house, and have the 
 windows all darkened. These circumstances obliged us 
 to hire a girl, at a dollar per week, most of the time. 
 
 Under such circumstances, I was in a fair way to be 
 come moneyless in a short time. Before I left Maine, 
 I had, through the agency of Judge Thatcher, before 
 named, made application to the Secretary of War, for a 
 pension. The application was made in April, 13] 8, but 
 I received no returns from the War department. I wait 
 ed until July, and thought that it was requisite I should 
 make some further efforts. 
 
 A Mr. Wm. P. Prebble, district attorney, (the son of 
 Col. Prebble of Old York, deceased, who was a veteran 
 of the revolution,) for some cause, became quite partial 
 towards me, and cheerfully proffered his services to fur 
 nish me with a new set of papers, which should have the 
 signature of A. K. Paris, Esq. district judge, who has 
 since been the Governor of Maine. The district judge 
 was the most proper officer through whom to make ap 
 plication for pensions. The 8th of July, the district 
 court held its session at Portland, and of course Marshal 
 Thornton was there; therefore, having reference to 
 Thornton and Prebble. I might venture to say I had two 
 frfends in court. To the judge I was a stranger, but 
 my friends introduced me to him as a Baptist clergyman; 
 and after my documents were completed, the Judge had 
 the politeness to address a private letter to Mr. Cal- 
 hoiin, the Secretary of War, representing me as " a meri 
 torious character," and expressing his hope that I should 
 succeed. Mr. Prebble advised me to obtain, if possible, 
 the depositions of some of the officers of the Ranger, to 
 prove that I had served on board of her. I knew but two 
 of the Ranger s crew who were living, except my uncle, 
 James Weymouth, and myself. They were both officers: 
 viz. Elijah Hall, Esq. of Portsmouth, and Lieut. Morris, 
 of Berwick. Hall was first Lieutenant of the ship, and 
 Morris was Lieutenant of marines. I obtained the de- 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 241 
 
 positions of those gentlemen, and after reaching Ohio, 
 I forwarded my papers to General C. Storer, a Senator 
 from New-Hampshire, and the Hon. J. Holmes, a Sen 
 ator from Maine. I wrote those gentlemen on the third 
 of February, 1819, requesting them to use the deposi 
 tions in support of my first application, if it should be 
 found in the office, in order that my pension might com 
 mence at the date of my first application; for by this 
 time cash was so scarce with me, that the pension from 
 April to July was an object of consequence. I was ap 
 prehensive that Messrs. Storer and Holmes would leave 
 Washington before my letter would arrive, and on the 
 12th of February I wrote to the Secretary of War, stat 
 ing the case to him fully. 
 
 About the first of March I received letters from Messrs. 
 Storer and Holmes, informing that they had been to the 
 office and obtained a promise that my certificate should 
 be forwarded. About the 20th of March, I received a 
 communication from Mr. 1. L. Edwards, informing me 
 that mine of the 12th of February, to the Secretary of 
 War, had been sent to that office, and that it did not ap 
 pear, from the records of that office, that my application 
 had ever been received. I was <c taken all aback," as a 
 sailor would say; and after pondering awhile, I wrote the 
 Secretary a long letter: I told him "the truth, the whole 
 truth, and nothing but the truth," and some time in May, 
 I received a most acceptable answer, viz. a pension cer 
 tificate, commencing at the date of my first application. 
 
 It seemed that there had been some unaccountable 
 blunder in the office. This pension was now my sheet 
 anchor, but I had received but one payment before my 
 cable was cut away, and all the pensioners struck adrift 
 again. 
 
 Towards the fall, my son John got some better, but my 
 wife and Andrew, still continued quite feeble. In No 
 vember, Mr. Kezer went down the Mississippi, and on 
 his return in the spring, soon after he entered the Ohio, 
 was attacked with a fever, and in a few days died; leav 
 ing a large family strangers in a strange land. Towards 
 the spring, Mrs. Sherburne s health was much more im 
 paired. In March we moved into the county of Brown, 
 21 
 
242 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 in the neighborhood of the village of Ripley. My wife 
 was ill able to endure the journey, of about thirty miles, 
 and was in a feeble state through the summer, and a con 
 siderable part of the time entirely confined to her bed. 
 
 Government having stayed the payment of pensions to 
 the revolutionists, we were under the necessity of going 
 through a round of ceremonies. We were to make out 
 a schedule of our property, and attest to its correctness 
 before a court of record, &c. To report the names, 
 ages, number and condition of our families. By reason 
 of some informality, all the applications from the county 
 of Brown were returned. I took my papers from the 
 file, had them corrected, and forwarded them to J. W. 
 Campbell, Esq. who was a representative from the coun 
 ty of Brown. This gentleman particularly attended to 
 my business, and forwarded to me the certificate of the 
 continuation of my name on the pension roll, dated Jan 
 uary 15th, 1821. 
 
 While in this place, I partially supplied the churches 
 of Red Oak andDecatur. I lived within the bounds of 
 Red Oak church a year and a half. The members were 
 quite scattered, and many of them poor; I was conse 
 quently much dependant on my friends. I cannot for 
 get the especial favors I received from Dr. Campbell of 
 Ripley, who at all times gratuitously attended my family 
 in sickness, while I resided in this place. 
 
 In the Autumn of 1821, I visited the churoh in Berlin, 
 in the county of Delaware, one hundred miles north of 
 Ripley. They invited me to remove my family there, to 
 which I agreed; and they sent teams and removed me at 
 their own expense. 
 
 I took up my residence with a Baptist brother, whose 
 name was John Johnson, and found him and his family 
 very friendly. Soon after our arrival my wife waa taken 
 sick, and was confined to her bed several weeks. In 
 the winter of 1822, I taught a school in Berlin. In this 
 place I contemplated procuring a few acres of land and 
 building a log house, and in order that I might be nearer 
 to the place where I contemplated building, I removed 
 into the house of another Baptist brother, by the name of 
 Nathan Sherwood. While residing with this friendly 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 243 
 
 family I had occasion to make a journey to the counties 
 of Clermont and Brown; and narrowly escaped being 
 drowned in the Sciota river. I was unacquainted with 
 the ford way, and although I had been particular in en 
 quiring respecting the depth of water, I did not get pro 
 per views of the direction in which I should have passed 
 this river. I entered in a plain wagon road, but my sight 
 was very poor, and it being foggy, I could not discern 
 the landing place on the other side. I should have as 
 cended the river in the middle, several rods further, 
 where the water was shallow, but my horse was inclined 
 to strike for the shore, and I suffered him to take his 
 own way. He soon began to swim; the wagon sunk 
 and swung down with the current: but he was a power 
 ful animal, and reached the shore and drew me up a 
 very steep bank on to a bench of the river. The horse 
 trembled like a leaf, but he was not more frightened than 
 his driver. In view of the danger, I trembled and was 
 astonished I discovered that if the stream had swept 
 me down a few rods further, I could not possibly have 
 landed, nor were there any near to have come to my 
 assistance ! " O, that men would praise the Lord for 
 his goodness and for his wonderful works to the children 
 of men! And let them sacrifice the sacrifices of thanks 
 giving and declare his works with rejoicing." 
 
 The Lord saw fit to defeat rny design of building, for 
 in August, 1822, 1 was violently attacked with that dis 
 tressing disease, the fever and ague, which continued 
 until November. For the first week 1 had a fit only 
 every other day, but after that every day, and constantly 
 attended with delirum. 
 
 This disease very much reduced my body, mind, and 
 purse, and left me quite poor. The prospects before me 
 were gloomy indeed. As I began slowly to recover, my 
 wife declined in health; and my physicians informed me 
 that I should probably have another attack the next year. 
 I was at a loss what method to take: I felt as though I 
 could preach no more, I found my memory much impair 
 ed, and I could myself discover that I had become more 
 peevish than usual. 
 
 Our clothing, and especially our bedding, had not been 
 
244 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 replenished for four years, nor was a single member of 
 the family able to earn any thing. I saw that although 
 my pension was of material service to me, it could not 
 do every thing. 
 
 I finally resolved to move my family into Columbus, 
 about twenty miles from Berlin. And I further resolved 
 to ask the general government to give me a small piece 
 of land, presuming that as I had been so partially remu 
 nerated for some of my services, and as there was yet a 
 quantity of land in Ohio unsold, and that some of it was 
 in small lots, I thought that under my peculiar circum 
 stances they would shew me some favor. It was my de 
 sign to visit the seat of government, and thence to jour 
 ney eastward and spend the next season, hoping to es 
 cape the fever and ague. 
 
 There were persons whom I considered as having good 
 information, who thought there was no doubt of my suc 
 cess. At any rate, I could petition with strong hope. 
 On reflection, I could recognize various distressing 
 scenes, when my circumstances were such as I could 
 make no effort for relief with the least possible prospect 
 of success. I came to the conclusion, that with my own 
 endeavors my country owed me a living, and whether the 
 government would help me or not, I was persuaded that 
 there were individuals who, if they knew my circum 
 stances, would freely afford me some relief. I was con 
 firmed in this idea from the circumstance of receiving 
 many friendly offices from several gentlemen, after I had 
 removed my family into Columbus. 
 
 Having made the best provision I could for my family, 
 I commended them to God, and set out for Washington 
 about the middle of January, 1823. On the 20th I fell 
 in company with elder J. M Aboy, of Kentucky, and 
 rode with him to Marietta, where he introduced me to Ca 
 leb Emerson, Esq. another Baptist lawyer. In this place 
 I found E. Emerson, formerly a deacon in the Baptist 
 church in South Reading, when I preached at that place. 
 Mr. E. introduced me to the Rev. Mr. Robins, the Con 
 gregational minister, who invited me to preach for him 
 on the Sabbath, which I did three times this was the 
 first of my preaching siqce my sickness. In this place I 
 
ANDREW SHEREURNE. s 245 
 
 found Capt. N. Dodge, from New-Hampshire, with 
 whose father and family I was well acquainted. Mr. 
 Robins and others, solicited me to spend several days 
 and deliver several lectures. The person whom I have 
 here named, as well as others, manifested their friend 
 ship towards me. I was quite indisposed in consequence 
 of preaching frequently. 
 
 Having recruited myself and horse, I set forward on 
 my journey; passed up the Ohio, went through Wheeling 
 and on the Cumberland road to Cumberland, in Mary 
 land, where I arrived on Lord s day. Feb. 8th, I called 
 on the Rev. Mr. Kennedy, a Presbyterian, for whom I 
 preached in the evening. He introduced me to a young 
 Baptist preacher, by the name of Charles Pollard. He 
 was out of health. With him I spent the next day very 
 agreeably, it being stormy. Mr. Kennedy took my horse 
 from the tavern to his own stable, nor would Mr. Kripp, 
 the innkeeper, take any thing for my dinner or horse 
 keeping. On the 1 1th, as I was passing over a sheet of 
 ice which was covered with light snow, my horse fell sud 
 denly on his right side; he arose immediately; my right 
 foot was confined in the stirrup; the fall was so sudden 
 that I lost hold of the bridle, I tried to stop the horse by 
 speaking to him, but could not he soon became fright 
 ened, and was on the point of starting on a gallop, when 
 the girth of the saddle broke and relieved me, after hav 
 ing been dragged about four rods. I was considerably 
 hurt by the fall, and if the girth of my saddle had not 
 broken, I should probably have been killed in a few min 
 utes. How mercifully has God interposed his power, 
 from time to time to preserve my life when in imminent 
 danger. 
 
 I arrived at Washington on the 17th of Feb. 1823, and 
 called on the Rev. Obadiah B. Brown, pastor of the Bap 
 tist church, and one of the principal clerks in the post- 
 oflice. I was affectionately received and entertained by 
 Mr. B. and his lady. Gov. Meigs, who was the post 
 master general, Col. R. M. Johnson, a senator from 
 Kentucky, and Maj. I. Johnson, a representative from 
 Kentucky, were boarders with elder Brown at this time. 
 I was by Mr. B. introduced to those gentlemen respec- 
 21* 
 
24G MEMOIRS OF 
 
 lively, and as I became one of the family for eight or 
 ten days, I became partially acquainted with them. Maj. 
 Johnson was a member of the Baptist church. 
 
 I made it my first business to see Mr. J. N. Camp 
 bell, a representative from Ohio, whom I have before 
 mentioned, to whom I had forwarded my petition from 
 Marietta. He treated me with particular attention. He 
 informed me that he had presented my petition; that it 
 had been read and committed; but that he could give me 
 no encouragement that its prayer would be granted. I 
 took a walk to the capitol, and before I entered, exam 
 ined it without a superb building indeed : I entered this 
 stately edifice. It would require some hours to walk 
 through and survey its interior. I could not but inquire 
 whether all this expense for show was necessary. While 
 walking in the capitol, to my surprise and joy, I met Mr. 
 Mark Harris, of the Baptist church in Portland, Maine, 
 one of my most intimate friends; he was a member of the 
 House of Representatives. In the evening, Mr. Harris 
 called to see me at Mr. Brown s. It was an object with 
 me to introduce the subject of my petition, and engage 
 the attention of those gentlemen who boarded with Mr. 
 Brown, as well as Mr. Harris, in its interest. They 
 were all agreed that my claim was just. It was known 
 that the chairman of the committee on such claims, was 
 hostile to the measure. They therefore would not ad 
 vise me to pay any further attention to it. 
 
 Governor Meigs observed that he would cheerfully 
 appoint me to a Post-office, worth four or five hundred 
 dollars per year, if there was any vacancy where it would 
 be convenient for me to be located. I observed to those 
 gentlemen that I must have some assistance from some 
 quarter, if I could obtain it by honest means; that I had 
 been unfortunate in removing my family to Ohio; that 
 they were in a helpless condition; that we hao) been re 
 duced to this condition by sickness and other misfor 
 tunes; that it was my lot to return from prison a beggar, 
 three times, during the war of the revolution; that beg 
 ging was a humiliating business, but that if there was no 
 other alternative, I must try it again. As might be ex 
 pected, those gentlemen contributed something to my 
 relief. 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 247 
 
 The next day the Governor observed to Mr, Brown, 
 that he thought Mr. S s hat was hardly becoming a Bap 
 tist clergyman, and requested a person to see that I was 
 furnished with a new hat. 
 
 The reader will probably recollect, that in the early 
 part of my narrative, I mentioned that I once set my 
 face to go to Alexandria, in Virginia, " to buy and sell 
 and geUrain," and that I was defeated in my purpose by 
 a British frigate. Now, being within a few miles of that 
 place, it seemed to be some object to visit it. As I was 
 a stranger, my brother Brown had the politeness to give 
 me a letter of introduction to Rev. Mr. Cone. 1 found 
 him and his lady very friendly and affectionate. I was 
 to preach for him the next day in the forenoon. Mr. 
 Cone inquired whether he should ask for a contribution 
 for me. I observed that as contributions were so com 
 mon on different occasions, that under present circum 
 stances I did not wish it but if individuals who were in 
 easy circumstances, were disposed to afford me any as 
 sistance, it would be very acceptable. The next day 
 Mr. C. handed me six dollars, in addition to several 
 presents which he made me. I returned to Washington 
 on Tuesday, and with the Rev. Luther Rice and others, 
 visited Columbia College, and tarried all night with 
 Professor Chase. 
 
 On Lord s day, March 2d, preached for elder Brown 
 to the Baptist church in the city; and on the fourth of 
 March set out for Baltimore, was kindly received by Rev. 
 Messrs. Healy and Reese, and on Lord s day preach 
 ed to the third Baptist church, which was destitute of a 
 pastor. I put up with a brother, Wm. Cook, who had 
 an interesting family. Next Lord s day, I preached for 
 Mr. Reese and was invited home by a brother France, 
 whose family paid particular attention to me. I made 
 my home with Messrs. Cook and France, during the 
 time I was in Baltimore. 
 
 There had recently been a destructive fire at Alexan 
 dria, and Mr. Cone was among the sufferers. 
 
 On the third Lord s day in March, I preached for Mr. 
 Healey, at Fell s Point. At this church as well as at 
 the Ebenezer church, where Mr. Reese preaches, there 
 
248 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 was a contribution made for me, amounting in the whole 
 to seven or eight dollars. In Baltimore I received 
 some assistance from several wealthy individuals, of the 
 Baptist denomination. 
 
 On the twenty-second of March, set out for Lancaster, 
 in Pennsylvania. Here I put up at Col. Slaugh s tav 
 ern. He was a revolutionary officer. I called on Rev. 
 Mr. Ashmead, the Presbyterian, and Rev. Mr. Muche- 
 lenburg, the Episcopal clergyman. They each of them 
 first gave me some money, and then recommended me to 
 the attention of some of the most wealthy of their con 
 gregations. Colonel S. advised me to go to Harris- 
 burgh: accordingly, I did, and called on Dr. Loch- 
 morn, of the Lutheran church, and on the Rev. Wm. 
 De Witt, of the Presbyterian church. Those gentle 
 men, like their brethren in Lancaster, first bestowed 
 their charities upon me and then named some of their 
 more wealthy parishioners. I had fallen in with no man 
 since I left home, that manifested more sympathy for me 
 than did Mr. De Witt. He introduced me to Governor 
 Hester and several other gentlemen of distinction. 
 
 On Lord s day I went to hear Mr. De Witt in the 
 morning, and preached for him in the afternoon; and on 
 Monday evening attended a prayer meeting at Mr. De 
 Witt s house. 
 
 On the first of April I set out for Philadelphia; pass 
 ed through Lebanon and Reading; in each of those pla 
 ces I found generous friends. On the first Sabbath in 
 April I preached for Rev. C. Moor s people at Brandy- 
 wine church, near the Yellow Springs. They gave me 
 four dollars. At this place I was kindly entertained by 
 a brother John Tustin. In going on tmvard Philadel 
 phia, I passed over Gen. Washington s camp ground, 
 near Valley Forge, and was within a few miles of Pao- 
 li, where Gen. Wayne with a detachment of our army 
 was surprised. I went into a house, the family were of 
 the denomination of Friends. In conversation with the 
 old lady, I ascertained that I was in the very house 
 where Washington .made his head quarters. I recol 
 lected to have heard soldiers of my acquaintance, speak 
 of events which transpired here and at Paoli. My mind 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 249 
 
 was solemnly employed in contemplating the scenes 
 through which the revolutionists passed. I presume 
 that there was not one in ten living at that time. 
 
 I called on deacon E. Siter, at Siterville, on the 
 Lancaster turnpike road. The deacon and his lady 
 treated me with special attention. I called on elder 
 Horatio Jones, whom I found quite friendly; he and his 
 brethren gave me about ten dollars. On the ninth of 
 April I went into Philadelphia and put up with a broth 
 er, David Johns, at the sign of the white horse, in Bank 
 street. I visited Dr. H. Holcomb, Dr. Rogers and 
 Dr. Staughton. Dr. Holcomb invited me to preach for 
 him, as did Dr. Staughton. I at first declined; but fi 
 nally preached for each of them more than once before 
 I left the city. I received favors from all those gentle 
 men, as also from a number of their wealthy brethren. I 
 also called on Dr Ely, who treated me courteously and 
 gave me a book and three dollars. 
 
 In Philadelphia, I fell in with elder Daniel Lewis, 
 with whom 1 had been acquainted in Maine. He was 
 now preaching at Frankfort, a few miles from the city. 
 I spent a Sabbath with him and preached all day. His 
 people made a contribution for me. 
 
 I was invited to preach to a Baptist church, called the 
 Great Valley church, about fifteen miles from Philadel 
 phia. Deacon Siter, before mentioned, belonged to this 
 church. I complied with the request on two Sabbaths, 
 and also delivered a lecture or two. They gave me fif 
 teen dollars. Deacons Philips and Siter, and a brother, 
 Daniel Abrahams, gave me fifteen dollars more. My 
 horse, which cost me seventy dollars and was the great 
 est part of my estate when I left Ohio, proved so lame 
 that I was afraid to* ride him. I therefore sold him 
 with my saddle and bridle for thirty dollars. 
 
 From the Great Valley I returned to Philadelphia; 
 bid an affectionate farewell to my friends, and took the 
 steam-boat for Bordentown. We then took the stage,, 
 passed through Trenton and Princeton to New-Bruns 
 wick, where my company took the steam-boat, and I 
 called on elder Daniel Dodge and Dr. Livingston. Mr. 
 Dodge gave me a dollar, and Dr. Livingston three, 
 
250 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 The next day I embarked in the steam-boat for New- 
 York and called on elder Wm. Parkerson and was 
 treated kindly. The next day I met elder Johnson 
 Chase in the street, very much to his surprise. He was 
 an old acquaintance, and was glad to see me. He re 
 quested me to send my trunk to his house and make 
 that my home while I tarried in the city. He being a 
 man of wealth and having no family, I readily complied 
 with his invitation, although I was made welcome by 
 elder Parkerson. 
 
 Brother Chase introduced me to elders Sanford, 
 Williams and Smith. They .acted towards me the part 
 of brethren. While here I had the satisfaction to fall 
 in with elders Going, of Worcester, Sharp of Boston, 
 and Willey of Utica. G. and S. were old acquaintances. 
 They were returning from the Baptist General Conven 
 tion, which had been holden at Washington. They all 
 invited me to call, as I was expecting to pass through 
 their several towns. 
 
 While in the city, I had the pleasure of meeting with 
 three sea Captains from Kennebunk, with whom I had 
 been intimately acquainted, viz. R. Patterr, D. Nason, 
 and I. Ward. The last named had been one of my 
 scholars. Each of those gentlemen had the command 
 of a vessel bound directly for Kennebunk Port, and 
 each had the politeness to invite me to take a passage 
 with them, but it had been so long since I had been on 
 the sea, I was fearful { should be sea-sick. I there 
 fore declined accepting their kind offer. 
 
 I took an opporl unity to visit the navy-yard, directly 
 opposite to which, formerly lay that dismal ship, the old 
 Jersey. I passed over her remains, some of which I 
 could see laying in the bottom of the East river. Her 
 satellites, the hospital ships, three or four in number, had 
 disappeared. The navy-yard now occupies the ground 
 where thousands of the American prisoners were buried. 
 The " bank" was a high bluff of loose earth, under the 
 side of which, the dead were laid, wrapped up in a ham 
 mock or blanket, and a little sand or earth hauled down 
 upon them, was entirely removed. It caused my very 
 soul to thrill when 1 passed over the remains of that 
 wretched ship, and was approaching the shore to re- 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 251 
 
 view the awful scenes I had witnessed, and the distress 
 ing suffering I had there endured through a long and 
 tedious winter, more than ibrty years ago, and where 
 more than two thirds of my shipmates had laid their 
 bones. I recollected to have read in the newspapers, 
 that the bones of the prisoners who had died on board 
 the prison ships were collected and deposited in a vault, 
 and a building erected over it. I designed to indulge 
 my curiosity in visiting the place, but I at once met with 
 an obstruction. A sentinel forbade my proceeding fur 
 ther; I informed him that I wished to see the command 
 ing officer. The sergeant of the guard was called, and 
 after a little ceremony I was permitted to enter and con 
 ducted to the door of his apartment I had not been 
 careful to acquaint myself with the. rules of naval eti 
 quette. The gentleman was a stranger to me, I do not 
 know that I had ascertained his name, I was equally a 
 stranger to him. I told the gentleman my name; in 
 formed him that I had belonged to the navy and had been 
 a prisoner on board the Jersey, and that being on a visit 
 to the city, I had a wish to see the Wallabout,, and had 
 crossed the river for that purpose. He had the polite 
 ness to inform me what route I might take to find it, but 
 .did not appear half so much interested in the matter as 
 1 was. I found the spot; I walked round it; I survey 
 ed it; I pondered and wondered that my bones had not 
 been scattered there long ago. I thanked and adored 
 my merciful Preserver, that I was yet spared, while al 
 most all my shipmates had been numbered with the 
 dead- 
 
 I retired from the navy-yard without molestation; re- 
 crossed the river and according to previous engagement, 
 called on deacon J. M. Fought, who accompanied me 
 to the residence of Colonel Henry Rutger and introduc 
 ed me to him. He received me courteously and in 
 formed me that he had the honor of waiting on Washing 
 ton and other Generals at his house. I referred to my 
 visit to the Wallabout. The Colonel went into a partic 
 ular detail of the matter, and gave an account of the 
 funeral procession on that occasion. A coffin filled with 
 the remains, was carried in procession through the priu- 
 
25*2 MEMOIRS or 
 
 cipal streets, and conveyed back again and deposited at 
 the Wallabout. He was one of the pall-bearers. When 
 I took my leave of the Colonel he gave me a check on 
 the bank for ten dollars. 
 
 While Mr. Going was in the city, he invited me to ac 
 company him to visit a brother, D. H. Barnes. Mr. G. 
 introduced me to Mr. B. The time passed pleasantly 
 for a few minutes, for Mr. G. was in haste to take the 
 steam-boat. I think he did not sit down. When we re 
 tired I said to B. " Brother Barnes, I think I shall give 
 you another call, before I leave the city." "Well, broth 
 er S." said he, " if your object is any thing besides 
 money, I shall be glad to see you, but as for money, it 
 is very scarce with us." I made no reply and accom 
 panied Mr. Going to the steam-boat. 
 
 Some days after, I was walking the street with elder 
 Smith; said he, a will you call and see brother Barnes?" 
 I was so much of a stranger in the city, that I did not 
 know that we were at his door: we went in and found 
 Mr. Barnes very sociable. After some time I said to 
 him, " brother Barnes, how came you to intrench your 
 self so readily the other day, when I left you ?" After a 
 moment s hesitation, he replied, " O, I recollect, why, 
 we have no ministers out of the country call upon us 
 but what come for money, I therefore concluded that 
 was your object." I asked him if any one had inform 
 ed him what my object was. " O no," said he, " we 
 take it for granted, that if a minister out of the country 
 comes here, he is after money." I replied that I 
 had not been apprised that it was so generally the 
 case. " O yes," said he, " we have so many con 
 tributions here, on so many different occasions and 
 are so frequently called upon for money, that we 
 have got quite run out." I handed to him a certificate 
 which Dr. Rogers, and Dr. Staughton had given me, 
 together with another paper, and observed to him, that 
 mine was an extraordinary case and that I should indeed 
 be glad to gel a little money, but that I should prefer 
 getting it of those who were best able to spare it. He 
 declined taking the papers, saying it is of no conse 
 quence, brother Sherburne, for we have not the money 
 
ANDREW 8HERBURNE. 253 
 
 to spare. I told him that he could look at the papers, 
 notwithstanding. He looked over them and replied, 
 * Oh, were you one of the revolutionists, brother Sher- 
 hurne? I did not know that, we must do something for 
 you, for there are millions of us who are now enjoying 
 the fruits of the toils and sufferings of the revolutionists; 
 we scarcely know what hardships are, and if any class 
 of the community is deserving our particular attention, 
 it is the revolutionists: we must do something for you, 
 brother Sherburne." He handed me a dollar. "Now," 
 said he, " brother Sherburne, if you could wear a coat 
 of mine, I would give you one." " Brother Barnes," 
 said I, u that is out of the question, I cannot get into 
 your coat; but if you have one to spare, I have a son at 
 home who is an invalid, he is in want of a coat and is 
 not able to buy one; if you are willing to give, I will 
 endeavor to convey it to him." He opened his draw 
 er and took out a coat not half worn; he then brought a 
 good pair of pantaloons, a vest and a pair of shoes, alto 
 gether, I presume, worth more than ten dollars. 
 
 While in the city I preached several times for Mr. 
 Smith, and Parkerson, and once for Chase. 
 
 On the ninth of June I left New-York for New-Haven, 
 where I called on Dr. Morse, with whom I had a partial 
 acquaintance in Boston. He added his signature to the 
 certificate which Dr. Rogers and Dr. Staughton gave 
 me. Dr. M., professor Fitch, and several other gentle 
 men in N. H. contributed to my relief. 
 
 I made a short stop in New-Haven, being quite out of 
 health. 
 
 On the thirteenth, took the stage for Middletown. On 
 the 14th I had a distressing attack of the ague, preceded 
 by violent puking, while on a visit at a Mr. Roberts, a 
 little out of the city. While returning to the city I met 
 elder James A. Boswell, and Mr. Amos Bickwith, with 
 whom Mr. Boswell boarded. They had heard of me, and 
 were in search for me. I went home with them and in 
 formed them that as I had had one severe fit of ague, I 
 was apprehensive I should have more. I had been 
 threatened with this trying complaint while in Harris- 
 burgh, and more severely for several days while in the 
 
J54 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 city of N. York. It was decided upon that I should make 
 my home at Mr. Bickwith s. He with his lady were 
 members of the Baptist church. I was now seven hun 
 dred miles from my family, and three hundred from Ken- 
 neb unk port. I was confined to the house the next day, 
 and on the third, which was Sunday, I had another dis 
 tressing fit of the ague, attended with delirium. About 
 the twentieth of June, Dr. Cone was called. He is a 
 respectable physician, and a gentleman in his deport 
 ment. At this time I was exceedingly distressed with 
 hiccough. Soon after this the ague subsided. 
 
 On the 24th of June I was much distressed with hic 
 cough again, which increased to an alarming degree: 
 iny stomach was extremely convulsed, and I could retain 
 nothing which I swallowed. My friends were much 
 alarmed. The next day Dr. Cone brought Dr. Miner 
 to see me. For several days I seemed convalescent, but 
 on the first of July , I was attacked with the typhus fever. 
 Until this time, Mrs. Prout, Mrs. Bickwith s mother, had 
 paid particular attention to me; she now became so much 
 indisposed, that they were under the necessity of pro 
 curing a Mrs. Jjyisan Stillman to attend on me. 
 
 Dr. Cone visited and prescribed for me twice a day, 
 gratuitously, for several weeks. For several days he 
 had but little hopes ofmy recovery. I was among stran 
 gers; but surrounded by friends. For two or three weeks 
 I was obliged to have watchers, and the citizens were 
 very kind in attending on me. The Baptist church made 
 two contributions for me, and a number of the brethren 
 made me private donations. Mr. E. Bounds and his 
 lady were particularly attentive, and supplied me with 
 various necessaries. I am under especial obligations to 
 Mr. Bradley. Mrs. Prout, Mr. Bickwith and his lady, 
 as well as Mrs. Stillman, were indefatigable in their ex 
 ertions for my relief and comfort. 
 
 I began to recover about the 15th of July, and on the 
 20th finished a letter to my wife, which 1 had commen 
 ced on the 16th of June. On the 30th of July, I put on 
 my clothes for the first time in four weeks, and elder 
 Boswell took me in his gig round one square. The next 
 day he took me to his own house. He told me that he 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. t 255 
 
 had made arrangements to bury me. On the second of 
 August, he carried me to elder Enoch Green s, about 
 two miles from the city, where I spent two days. His 
 family were particularly attentive to me, while I was con 
 fined. When I left this good man, he presented me with 
 two dollars. 
 
 I have since been informed that elder Green, his ami 
 able consort, and one or more of their children, have paid 
 the debt of nature: "And their works do follow them." 
 
 On the 5th of August, brother Bound very obligingly 
 took me in his carriage, and drove carefully to Weathers- 
 field, and left me with elder W. Bentley, who treated me 
 with attention, and the next day took me to Hartford, 
 and lodged me with deacon I. B. Gilbert. He and his 
 lady paid particular attention to me, aud liberally bestow 
 ed on rne their charities. I called on elder Cushman, 
 who certified my credentials to be satisfactory. The Rev. 
 I. Hawes manifested his sympathy, gave me a dollar, 
 and recommended me to the attention of his friends. I 
 am under especial obligations to a number of brethren 
 and other gentlemen in Hartford. 
 
 On the 13th of August, brother Gurdon Rabins took 
 me in a gig to Colchester, and lodged me with a Mr. 
 Turner. I was treated with marked attention, by this 
 family. I called on the Rev. Mr. Cone, the father of 
 my much esteemed friend, Dr. Cone of Middletown. 
 Mrs. C. treated me affectionately. 
 
 On the 16th I took the stage for New- London, and 
 put up with brother Turner, where elder Loomis board 
 ed: here I was kindly entertained. On Monday, the 
 18th, I took passage to Norwich, in a packet boat, and 
 brother Loomis paid my passage to Norwich. I was in 
 haste to get on, and on the 21st I took the stage to Prov 
 idence, where I had especial attention paid to me by Dr. 
 Gano, with whom I had some personal acquaintance. 
 He treated me like a brother. On the Lord s day, the 
 24th, in the evening, I preached for Dr. G. in his con 
 ference room. At the close of the meeting, the Dr. ob 
 served to his congregation, that having recently called 
 frequently on them for contributions on different occa 
 sions, he had resolved not to ask again for a contribution 
 
256 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 on any occasion for the present, and that he should ad 
 here to his purpose; but having had an account of my 
 revolutionary sufferings and recent misfortunes, and hav 
 ing been a sufferer himself in the revolution, he felt an 
 especial interest in my case. He would therefore recom 
 mend me to their attention; and observed that if any 
 were disposed to bestow any thing upon me, they might 
 bring it forward. They gave me about ten dollars. Mr. 
 John Snow, with whom I had been acquainted in Ohio, 
 introduced me to his father, (an old revolutionist,) and 
 to a number of other gentlemen, whose benevolence I 
 experienced. 
 
 I hastened to Boston, expecting to find a letter from 
 my wife, whose last communication I received in New- 
 York, dated the 12th of May. On my arrival at Boston, 
 I found myself at home, at Dr. Baldwin s. My first bus 
 iness was to visit the Post-office, where I found a letter 
 from my wife, in answer to mine from Middletown, in 
 forming me that my dear Wiltshire had been sick 
 through the summer with the ague. That a large num 
 ber of my acquaintance were no more, and that it was 
 unusually sick in Columbus. I had been from my fam 
 ily seven months, and was not yet to my journey s end 
 by more than a hundred miles. I was desirous once 
 more to see my aged mother and only surviving sister, 
 and other eastern friends, and extremely anxious to get 
 home. 
 
 In Boston I fell in with Capt. Luther Walker, who 
 married my adopted daughter, who was now no more. 
 He was about to sail for Kennebunk port; I went on in 
 the stage, and found him there. 
 
 Here I found my old friends very glad to see me, and 
 very much devoted to me, but none more so than my son- 
 in-law, Capt. W. He took me in his gig to Baldwin, 
 about forty miles, to see my brother Ingalls and family, 
 with whom my aged mother lived. 1 had become so 
 anxious to get home, that I could allow myself to make 
 but a short visit I spent too Sabbaths in this quarter, 
 preached twice at my old meeting-house, twice at the 
 Port, and once for elder Locke, and once for elder Rob 
 erts, J received generous contributions and donations. 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. \\ ^y ^ jj . 
 
 On the 23d of September, I took the stae for Ports- 
 mouth, where I received some assistance from Mr. I. 
 Cutter, and several other gentlemen, and soon after call 
 ed on Dr. Bowles. 
 
 I found him very friendly and affectionate; we had 
 been formerly acquainted with each other. He present 
 ed me with about twelve dollars, part of which was col 
 lected from his friends. I hastened to Boston, where at 
 the stage tavern, I fell in with several merchants and 
 ship-masters from Kennebunk, who generously contrib 
 uted to my assistance. Under my peculiar circumstan 
 ces, and those of my far distant family, I was daily ad 
 monished of the kindness of God in raising up friends to 
 furnish me with means to remove my family from a coun 
 try which was so unpropitious to our health. However 
 it may appear to others, I cannot deny myself the grat 
 ification of noticing with what cordiality I was received 
 by elders Baldwin and Sharp, and by brethren Ensign 
 and Heman Lincoln and others. Their sympathy to 
 ward me was not in word only, but in deed and truth. 
 
 I could make but a short stay in Boston; preached 
 once to brother Sharp s people, and was in haste to get 
 to Albany, where I expected to receive a letter from my 
 wife. My Boston friends and I parted with no expecta 
 tion of meeting again in time. Brother H. Lincoln af 
 fectionately accompanied me to the stage. I being fee 
 ble he assisted me to get in, and took his farewell, not 
 however, until he had farther extended to me his boun 
 ty. u It is more blessed to give, than to receive." 
 
 At. Worcester, I had but just time to call on brethren 
 Going and Goddard, and continued my journey toward 
 Albany. I had the agreeable company of a Dr. Lyman 
 of Troy for a considerable distance. We were the only 
 passengers in the stage. I am compelled to enroll this 
 gentlemen, as well as the two last mentioned, among the 
 list of my benefactors. At Albany, where I arrived on 
 Saturday evening, I was courteously received and enter 
 tained by elder L. Leonard, and deacon J. A. Burk. On 
 the Sabbath, I preached once to Mr. L. s people. Elder 
 C. Philleo was at Albany at this time, and I having ac 
 quainted him, Mr. L. and others, with some of my histo- 
 00* 
 
258 ME3IOIRS OF 
 
 ry in the state of Ohio, and having just received a letter 
 from my wife, informing me of the mortality in Colum 
 bus, and that she had had a severe attack of the prevail 
 ing fever; they advised me by all means to remove my 
 family from Ohio, to Verrion, in the county of Onedia 
 and state of New- York, where Mr. Philleo resided. I 
 was resolved to adhere to this counsel and took the stage 
 for Utica, and from thence by the packet boat to Roch 
 ester, thence I travelled by land to Buffalo. I then took 
 the steam boat for Sandusky bay, from thence I went up 
 the Sandusky river in a horse-boat, and took my passage 
 about one hundred miles in wagons to Columbus, where 
 I arrived on the 25th of October. Here, by the abound 
 ing mercy of a gracious God, I found my family in tol 
 erable health, after an absence of nine months, in which 
 time both they and myself had passed through very great 
 distresses. In thirty-three days I travelled more than a 
 thousand miles; I was resolved to leave the state of 
 Ohio. I had occasion to visit Ripley, about one hun 
 dred miles south, and had engaged a team to take me 
 on to New York as soon as I should return. In my long 
 and tedious journeys, the Lord had raised up friends to 
 furnish me with about three hundred and fifty dollars. 
 I paid my house rent, doctor s bill arid other debts, and 
 about the middle of November, set oft for Vernon in the 
 county of Orieida, in the state of New- York, and after 
 journeying with my family thirty-one days, and laying by 
 about thirty-three days, arrived at Vernon on the 21st 
 day of January, 1824, My body and mind had both be 
 come so impaired, that I had abandoned the, idea of ever 
 taking the pastoral charge of a church again. I bought 
 a small lot of land, consisting of three acres, on which 
 there was a small house, in the adjoining town of Augus 
 ta, to which I removed my family on the day I entered 
 the sixtieth year of my life; on the day I closed my six 
 tieth year, 1 commenced writing this little volume, but 
 my wife had been so much out of health, and being un 
 der many embarrassments, that at the expiration of the 
 year, I had not finished one sheet. On the sixth day of 
 January, 1826, my first daughter was born, whose name 
 we call Mary Jane. 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. * ( J 
 
 As I am far removed from my connexions, as they 
 may know nothing of my children, except what they learn 
 from this narrative, and as I have named all but the 
 youngest daughter, I am willing to indulge the usual 
 weaknesses of aged parents, by observing that she was 
 born August 24th, 18527. To her we gave the name of 
 Eliza Ann. 
 
 On the first of February, 1826, 1 set out on a journey^ 
 to the state of Ohio, a distance of seven hundred miles. 
 On my way I visited Columbus, Ripley, Cincinnati and 
 Batavia, and had a pleasant interview with many of my 
 friends. In this journey, I fractured my left shoulder by 
 a fall from my horse. A few months after my return, 
 I had the misfortune to fracture my right shoulder, by 
 a fall from a wagon. One principal inducement in ta 
 king the journey to Ohio, was to sell the village lots in 
 Batavia, of which I have before spoken. That place 
 has now become the seat of justice for the county. In 
 this, however, I could not succeed to my satisfaction, 
 and as I could not sell them without a great sacrifice, I 
 made provision for the payment of subsequent taxes, 
 and concluded to let them remain unsold. I was told 
 that the taxes were all paid up to the year 1826. I left 
 money with Mr. Joseph Grant to pay the tax that should 
 next become due, and engaged a person against whom 
 I had a demand, to remit money to Mr. G. to pay the 
 subsequent taxes. We considered Mr. G. as our agent, 
 although he was not formally authorized to act. Shortly 
 after my return from Ohio, I wrote to Mr. Grant, that if 
 he could sell the lots to advantage, we would forward to 
 him a power for that purpose, and wished him to write. 
 Mr. G. mislaid the letter, and had forgotten the place 
 where we lived. But after about one year, he found the 
 letter and answered it. The following is an extract 
 from his letter, which was dated 
 
 Batavia, O. July 24, 1827. 
 
 * The business of most interest to you, I have to com 
 municate, is in regard to your lots. You will recollect 
 that when you were here last, you left me a dollar for 
 the purpose of paying the taxes which I did for the year 
 1826. But I was not aware that the taxes for 1825 had 
 
260 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 not been paid. In consequence of that delinquency, 
 your lots have been sold, and purchased by Thomas 
 Morris, Esq. and his son for the taxes due that year." 
 Having received this information, I wrote to the post 
 master at Batavia, presuming he was an acquaintance 
 of mine, and wished him to inform rne who was the 
 county auditor, &/c. I waited long and received no an- 
 ( swer. I then wrote to a friend in the vicinity of Batavia, 
 waited and still received no answer. 
 
 I then wrote to Judge Moore before named, a gentle 
 man of the strictest veracity, and requested him to at 
 tend to our business. Mr. C. A. Campbell, the post 
 master at Ripley being an acquaintance, I wrote him at 
 the same time, requesting fhmi to inform me whether 
 Moore s letter had reached that office. 
 
 Mr. Campbell had the politeness to pay a punctual 
 attention to my request, and wrote me under the date of 
 
 June 16th, 1826. 
 
 " Dear Sir By this day s mail I received your let 
 ter of the 29th ult. In reply to the information request 
 ed, I have to say, our worthy and excellent friend, Jo 
 seph Moore, has paid the last great debt of nature." 
 
 I may with propriety say there was no man in the 
 state of Ohio, to whom I was tinder greater obligations 
 for various acts of kindness than deacon J. Moore. 
 When 1 recollect the vast number of my friends who 
 have "gone the w ay of all the earth," I may properly 
 say to myself, " be thou also ready." 
 
 In view of what I have already related, together with 
 many other circumstances attendant on my emigration 
 from the east, there seems to be a kind of fatality attend 
 ing my enterprises in the west. 
 
 I have too much confidence, however in Mr. Morris 
 and his son, to indulge the thought that they will take 
 any undue advantage of my misfortunes. 
 
 I must now bring my little narrative to a close. It 
 has already been drawn out to a greater length than 1 
 had anticipated at its commencement. My life, though 
 much diversified, has been marked by great and unde 
 served mercy from God; and in view of this fact, I can 
 not express my feelings more properly than in the fol 
 lowing lines, composed by an unknown author. 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. ~ L 
 
 BIRTH DAY. 
 
 Great God! thy goodness let me sing, 
 
 On this my natal day, 
 From thee what joys, what pleasures spring, 
 
 My grateful soul survey. 
 
 When in the days of other years, 
 
 The storms of wo assail d 
 My wand ring bark then o er my fears 
 
 Thy promises prevail d. 
 
 The stranger s fate, in foreign lands, 
 
 In early youth was mine: 
 Around me then, to raise up friends, 
 
 The heav nly work was thine. 
 
 When wreck d on ocean s raging wave, 
 
 No ray of hope there came, 
 Thy matchless arm was stretch dto save, 
 
 And shield my sinking Irame! 
 
 The stormy cape was bleak and bare, * 
 
 No verdure smiled around 
 The desert shore yet even there 
 
 Thy watchful hand I found! 
 
 Snatch d from the overwhelming flood, 
 
 To light, to life restor d; 
 How leap d my heart to thee, my God, 
 
 Thy providence ador d! 
 
 And since through pain or peril s hour^ 
 
 Thy hand has led my way, 
 Forsake me not, all-gracious Power, 
 
 On this my natal clay! 
 
 O! spare me yet to praise thy name 
 
 With gratitude andjoy; 
 My God thy goodness to proclaim, 
 
 My heart, my tongue employ. 
 
 Still let my life, serenely gay, 
 
 Through future changes prove, 
 Be every thorn that checks my way, 
 
 Made harmless by thy love. 
 
 And when the shades of death impend, 
 
 The gloomy grave in view; 
 Be thou my solace thou my friend 
 
 My God forever true! H. H. Jr. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST EDITION. 
 
262 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 MEMOIRS CONTINUED. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 He commences selling his books in the count)/ of Oneida 
 Utica Albany Troy New- York District of 
 Columbia Fredcricksburg in Va. Richmond Pe 
 tersburg Norfolk Portsmouth Williamsburg 
 
 Baltimore Philadelphia Returns home Journeys 
 East, through Vermont and New-Hampshire, to 
 Maine Returns home Visits Ohio and returns home 
 77/5 daughters death Visits New-York Provi 
 dence PatotucJcet Boston Returns to Providence. 
 
 HAVING nearly completed my manuscript for my first 
 edition, I conceived it expedient that I should have the 
 judgment of some literary gentlemen upon it, for I had 
 not the vanity to suppose that I was a proper judge of 
 its merits. 
 
 I requested Alexander M. Beebe, Esq. editor of the 
 New- York Baptist Register, to examine it. Having 
 read a number of sheets, he encouraged its publication. 
 I also put it into the hands of the Rev. A. Mc Kay, of 
 New- York, for examination. He gave it his approba 
 tion and observed that it was just what the young Amer 
 icans ought to read. He said that we had the history of 
 the Revolution on the great scale, but that we had few 
 of the details. I shewed it to the Rev. Mr. Parkerson: 
 he disapproved of its publication, from the impression 
 that I should lose money by it; but after he had read a 
 part of the manuscript, he gave his cordial approbation. 
 As the Rev. Spencer H. Cone was considered a gen 
 tleman of refined taste, and had once been the editor of 
 a newspaper, I wished to obtain his opinion also. He 
 had the kindness with Mr. Parkerson, to give me his 
 signature. I then came to the conclusion to publish it 
 if I could, notwithstanding I was entirely destitute of 
 funds. 
 
 I had some encouragement from Enos Nichols, Esq. 
 of Kirkland, and from Gen. J. J. Knox of Augusta, 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 263 
 
 that they would assist me in getting it through the press. 
 In that case they would incur some risk, as I was al 
 ready near !200 dollars in debt. Col. Win. Williams 
 of Utica offered to print it lor me, provided Gen. Knox 
 would become responsible for halt the sum, in easel 
 might fail, provided I would give my personal attention 
 to the sale of the books. To this Gen. Knox agreed, and 
 I commenced selling my books in Sept. 1828, and hav 
 ing sold near two or three hundred in Augusta and the 
 adjacent country, I went to Utica, where I was liber 
 ally patronised, and had some flattering compliments 
 paid me by gentlemen of distinction. In Nov. I set out 
 lor Albany and had good success in disposing of books 
 in Sangersfield and Cherry-Valley. I journeyed with 
 my horse and small wagon; but I found it necessary to 
 take my horse and wagon home again, and travel by 
 stage. On my arrival home, I found my wife confined 
 to her bed with the rheumatism. I remained with my 
 family just a week. My wife did not ait up an hour in 
 the time. It was extremely unpleasant to leave my 
 family at this season of the year, with a view not to re 
 turn for six or eight months. The undertaking was an 
 adventurous one at first, and especially in view of my 
 limited education and advanced age. But I could con 
 ceive of no better prospects to procure a subsistence for 
 myself and family, and in this business every thing de 
 pended on my health and ability to travel. There were 
 debts of more than a thousand dollars standing against 
 me, and all that I possessed, aside from my books, would 
 not raise half the money. Trying, however, as our 
 circumstances were, we must be separated; four of rnv 
 children being yet tinder twelve years of age and two of 
 them under four. .Every person of candor and sensibil 
 ity will acknowledge that it is no small privation for an 
 old man to turn his back on his family and fire-side, at 
 this season of the year. It was about the middle of De 
 cember: I endeavored tocomrnend my afflicted wife and 
 dear children, together with my own soul, to God, and 
 took rny departure for Utica, where I took the stage for 
 Albany. Trying as my situation was, it was vastly pre 
 ferable, to being exposed to cannon balls and bombs, 
 
2t)4 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 day arid night, for weeks together, or being exposed in 
 gales of wind at sea, when almost every wave would 
 seem to threaten destruction or despairing of deliver 
 ance on a wreck, or starvation in a wilderness, or suffer 
 ing hunger in a loathsome prison-ship. From all those 
 scenes of sorrow, God has delivered me; surely there 
 can be no mortal in existence who is under greater ob 
 ligations to be humble and to render thanksgiving and 
 praise to God than myself. After all, I have yet the 
 debt to pay, for it is appointed to man once to die. 
 
 While in Albany there were several days so extreme 
 ly cold that I thought it imprudent to go out. Several 
 gentlemen of distinction bought books of me, and hav 
 ing read them, were disposed to say that they were very 
 interesting. I had the satisfaction to sell one to Mr. J. 
 Kidney, who with the exception of David Warren, Esq. 
 of Verona, was the only person I had found who had 
 suffered on board the Jersey. He was riot poor enough 
 to get a pension. By his own industry he had acquired 
 a handsome estate. He was by occupation a black 
 smith, but not of that description who have an unquench 
 able spark in the throat. Mr. Kidney drinks neither 
 wine or strong drink, nor even strong beer or cider. I 
 very much regret that I had not while in the company 
 of those gentleman, furnished myself with some more 
 authentic details relative to their sufferings while on 
 board the Jersey. 
 
 1 had no expectation at that time however, of publish 
 ing a second edition. 
 
 I sold about a hundred and fjfty books in Albany, and 
 twenty in Troy. I feel myself under especial obliga 
 tions to the Baptist preachers and brethren in Albany 
 and Troy, who purchased my books. My patronage, 
 however, was by no means confined to the Baptist, or 
 any other denomination. Elder Welch gave notice to 
 his congregation, that a relict of the Revolution would 
 preach to them in the afternoon, which circumstance 
 facilitated the sale of my books. 
 
 About the middle of Jan. 1829, I took the stage for 
 New-York, with a view of spending several weeks there. 
 I was cordially received and hospitably entertained by 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 265 
 
 Mr. D. Lewis and lady, members of the Baptist church, 
 whose frank and generous friendship had more than once 
 consoled me in my previous trials. They even insisted 
 on my making their house my home, while I abode in 
 the city. This circumstance was Consoling to an old 
 man who was far from his family. 
 
 It excites astonishment when my memory brings 
 again lo view the numerous friends, which God in his 
 gracious providence, has raised up for me among stran 
 gers. Surely goodness and mercy have followed me 
 all my days. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not 
 all his benefits. 
 
 At the close of a conference meeting of the Oliver-street 
 church, the Rev. Mr. C. recommended my books to the at 
 tention of his congregation, who very liberally patroniz 
 ed me. The Rev. Mr. Parkerson and the Rev. Mr. 
 Dunbar also assisted me with their influence. After I 
 had been selling my books several days in the city, I 
 was frequently met by gentlemen who had bought and 
 read them, who readily recognizing me, were disposed 
 to present me some polite and familiar compliments; and 
 as 1 proceeded, instances of this kind multiplied; but 
 my time being invaluable, I could not indulge either 
 them or myself with but very short interviews, as my 
 success depended on my own personal patience and 
 perseverance. I sold in the city ten, fifteen, and some 
 times more than twenty in a day. This was doing 
 great business for me, and rapidly facilitated the dis 
 charge of the heavy debt I had contracted for printing; 
 and this object must be accomplished before I could re 
 alize any real benefit to my family. At the close of the 
 day I was generally so fatigued by walking and talk 
 ing, that I was quite dispirited, and fearful that I should 
 never accomplish my object. My own judgment as 
 well as the sacred scriptures have long since taught me 
 that despondency is neither a virtue nor a grace. Who 
 will presume to reverse the declaration, that it is through 
 much tribulation we are to enter into the kingdom? And 
 that " man who is born of a woman is of few days and 
 full of trouble" Therefore the only encouragement 
 for a, feeble mortal is, that there is a throne of grace 
 
266 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 to which he may fly for refuge to lay hold of the hope 
 set before him. O the condescension of the eternal 
 God, to permit feeble, polluted mortals, whose breath is 
 in their nostrils, to approach his sacred presence, and 
 talk with him as a man talketh with his friend. These 
 considerations have tranquilized my mind, and encour 
 aged me to " endure as seeing him who is invisible." 
 
 While disposing of my books in the city, Capt. Benj. 
 Bailey was frequently spoken of by the citizens as having 
 been a prisoner on board the Jersey. I called on him, 
 and was treated with marked attention, both by himself 
 and lady. He bought two of my books and had the 
 politeness to introduce me to the Hon. R. Hiker, the 
 Recorder, to Gen. Morton, Dr. Graves and others, near 
 the City Hall, who took books of me. I called at the 
 Custom-house, under the impression that I should cer 
 tainly sell a few there. I observed to the gentlemen, 
 that I had called to offer them a little book, in which 1 
 had told the story of my own conflicts in the revolution, 
 and particularly on board the Jersey prison ship. 
 
 An old gentleman raised his voice and replied, " Books, 
 this is no place to sell books; this is a public office." 
 I replied that I was aware of that, and presumed that 
 he was in public employ, and that he got his pay for his 
 services; that I had been in public service myself, and 
 had never got my pay for my services, and that I should 
 like to sell him a book. " We want none of your books," 
 said he. He seemed so unpleasant, that I had no wish 
 to trouble him with my presence, and retired with inten 
 tion to try in the next room, which was an insurance 
 office, and addressed myself to an old gentleman, as 
 before. He shoved up his spectacles and replied with 
 emphasis, " Were you on board the Jersey prison ship?" 
 I replied that I was. " Oh! then I will buy one of your 
 books," said he, " I know what you had to suffer there. 
 I was the clerk of the commissary, who was sent into 
 the city at that time, to pay some attention to the suffer 
 ings of the prisoners; I will buy a book of you." The 
 old gentleman addressed himself to another gentleman 
 present, saying, * Won t you buy a book of him? the old 
 gentleman has had a hard time of it, no doubt." The 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 267 
 
 gentleman consented. "Now," said he, (t I will buy 
 one for my grandson," a lad in the office, probably fif 
 teen years of age. "Here" said he, "read this, my boy, 
 that you may see what your rights cost." "Really, Sir," 
 said I, " I meet with a very different reception from 
 what I did in the Custom-house," and recited to him the 
 circumstance. " Ah, Mr. Sherburne," said he, " you 
 will find many of the Americans that don t know, nor 
 don t want to know, what their rights cost. There 
 is a great difference between a man s getting an estate, 
 and a man s heiring an estate." 
 
 This old patriot was Mr. John Pintard. I do not 
 know, nor do I wish to know, the name of the man in 
 the custom-house; I however do not believe that it was 
 the custom-house officer. 
 
 On the 18th of February, 1829, 1 went on board the 
 steam-boat, and from thence took the stage to Philadel 
 phia, and so on to Baltimore, and called on my good 
 brother Joseph France and his lady, whose hospitality I 
 had enjoyed six years before, when returning in poor 
 health from Ohio. While in Baltimore, there came a 
 violent snow storm, which detained me there two days. 
 I then took the stage for Washington, and was cour 
 teously entertained by Rev. O. B. Brown and lady. My 
 box of books, which I had ordered for Washington, were 
 frozen up in Albany. I had therefore to send to Balti 
 more for the books I had designed for that place. I 
 spent about three weeks in Washington and Georgetown, 
 and preached several times for Mr. Brown s people, 
 visited the college, sold books to several of the students, 
 had an interesting interview with Drs. Chapin aad Sem- 
 ple. I also called on President Adams, who gave me 
 two dollars for a book. 
 
 I had not designed to have gone any further south, but 
 Dr. Semple and elder Brown advised me to go into 
 Virginia. I wished the Doctor to give me a letter to 
 some brother in Portsmouth or Norfolk and he gave me 
 the following letter to Dr. Joseph Schoolfield, of Ports 
 mouth. 
 
 " Col Hill, March 23, 1829. 
 BROTHER SCHOOLFIELD, 
 DEAR SIR The bearer, elder Andrew Sherburne, 
 
268 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 has been among us for some time, has acquired the re 
 gard of all his acquaintance as a good man. He is 
 an old revolutionary sufferer, and at that trying crisis, 
 passed through many perilous and trying scenes, which 
 he has thought worthy of remembrance has according 
 ly written his own memoirs; his object in travelling is 
 to sell his books. I have bought and read one of them, 
 and really can recommend it ,as amusing and quite in 
 teresting. He wishes me to introduce him to your ac 
 quaintance, and that of the other brethren of jVorfolk 
 and Portsmouth. Any attention you may show our old 
 friend and brother, will I think be acceptable to God 
 and acknowledged by yours, <fcc. 
 
 R.B. SEMPLE. 
 
 P. S. As I have not time to write to any others will 
 you read this and hand it back to him for the inspection 
 of as many as he may wish to shew it to. K. B. S." 
 
 I visited Alexandria, with a letter frcm the 
 Rev. O. B. Brown to Kev. Samuel Cornelius. He 
 had just received a pressing letter from the Baptist 
 church at Chopawamsic, to preach for them the follow 
 ing Sabbath; but he was otherwise engaged, and could 
 not; he requested me to serve them. I consented and 
 descended the Potomac about twenty miles, in the 
 steam-boat, and found a brother Rubleman waiting 
 for me with a gig; he took me to his own house at 
 Dumfries; in the evening I preached in the Court-House; 
 next day he took me to Chopawamsic, to their church 
 meeting, and I was hospitably entertained at the house 
 where the Rev. John Leland used to preach forty years 
 ago. On ford s day, I preached and broke bread to the 
 church; returned to Dumfries, preached in the Court, 
 House again and returned to Washington to wind up 
 my concerns there, took an affectionate farewell of broth 
 er Davis and his lady, at the navy yard; and of brother 
 Cooper arid his lady and also of a brother Gater and 
 lady. I had been courteously entertained in these fam 
 ilies, as well as at brother Brown s. Mrs. Gater having 
 read my book, had the kindness to send each of my lit 
 tle girls a silver thimble. 
 J returned to Alexandria, Vir. with an intentio n to 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE, 269 
 
 take lodgings at a boarding house, but brother and sis 
 ter Cornelius would not agree to it. They insisted that 
 I should make myself at home at their house. 
 
 As soon as my books came on, brother Cornelius went 
 round with me, and called on whom he pleased, and I 
 made rapid progress in selling my books; and being 
 called away, he called upon a brother I. P. Colman to 
 wait on me. Sister Cornelius in addition to other favors 
 sent a dollar to each of my little girls. On leaving Al 
 exandria, brother Cornelius furnished me with the fol 
 lowing letter. 
 
 Alexandria, D. C. March 26, 1829. 
 MR. ROBERT B. FIFE, FREDERICKSBURG. 
 
 DEAR BROTHER This will be handed you by our 
 aged and venerable brother, Rev. Andrew Sherburne. 
 Besides the love which I feel for him as an aged Christ 
 ian and preacher of righteousness, he prefers anoth 
 er and an irresistible claim to my confidence and re 
 gard. He lived and acted and suffered in " the times 
 that tried men s souls." 
 
 The incidents of his life, during the war of the Rev 
 olution and since, have appeared to his friends, and to 
 himself, worthy of being perpetuated in the memory of 
 Americans, and he has therefore written a memoir of 
 himself, which I have read with satisfaction. 
 
 The leading object of his visit to the South is to dis 
 pose of his books; upon the profits of which he relies 
 for supporting his family. I am persuaded you will take 
 pleasure in rendering any service in your power, and in 
 doing so you will add another reason to the many which 
 I have already to subscribe myself, 
 
 Your obliged brother, 
 
 S. CORNELIUS. 
 
 P. S. As I shall not be able to write to the numerous 
 friends, to which it would give me pleasure to introduce 
 our friend, be kind enough to return him this as a gen 
 eral introduction. S. CORNELIUS." 
 
 Brother Cornelius observed to me, that the Virginian 
 brethren would not approve of my putting up at a public 
 house, that they expected travelling brethren to call o 
 them. 23* 
 
270 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 On the 28th of March, I left Alexandria in the steam 
 boat, and descended the Potomac, had the satisfaction 
 of Dr. J. S. Jackson s company, who was Mrs, Brown s 
 son by her first husband; I had formed a pleasant ac 
 quaintance with him at elder Brown s, at Washington. I 
 had the satisfaction to pass in view of the celebrated 
 Mount Vernon, arid landed within nine miles of Freder- 
 icksburg, and went on to Fredericksburg in the stage 
 in the night, the travelling exceeding bad. Dr. Semple 
 supplied the Baptist church a part of the time. I was at 
 home at Mr. Alexander Walker s, who was a member of 
 the Baptist church. I was an entire stranger; yet the 
 before mentioned letters were a sufficint recommendation. 
 I must, however, conform to the customs of the country. 
 The Baptists were disappointed of their preacher that 
 day, and it was proposed that I should preach for them. 
 Brother Walker, his lady, and their children were as 
 much devoted to me as I could wish. I had occasion to 
 go to the stage-office, where i had left my baggage; Mr. 
 YValker proposed that I should take a boy as a waiter. I 
 observed to him that there was no occasion; that I could 
 bring in a handkerchief all that I should need. "O! take 
 a boy, take a boy," said he; I made no more objections, 
 and being among Virginians, would do as Virginians do. 
 I went to the stage-office, followed by a colored lad about 
 sixteen, and having a boy, I thought he might as well 
 take a small trunk as a bundle; and on my return met 
 Mr. Walker in his front door, and a young colored man 
 at his elbow. The lad was directed to take my trunk 
 into a chamber; he was followed by Mr. Walker and my 
 self, and we were followed by the other black man. Having 
 entered the chamber, (all in style,) said Mr. Walker, 
 here brother Sherburne is where we put our ministers, 
 when they come to see us, and here is a boy (viz. a 
 young man) to wait on you; if you want any thing, just 
 ring the bell and he will come to you." A prince could 
 not need more superb accommodations than I then had. 
 In taking a retrospective view of the stations, quarters, and 
 different habitations I had occupied in the space of half 
 a century, I could not recollect that I had ever been ac- 
 ^cmmodated in such princely style before. There were 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 271 
 
 indeed, unnumbered instances in New-England where I 
 had been accommodated with a chamber of the highest 
 style, with every necessary accommodation. But never 
 before had I Toney, Curfy, or Pompey to make a fire 
 for me before I was up clean my boots provide hot 
 water for shaving, and even shaving (if requested,) and 
 brush and adjust my coat, &c. &.c. 
 
 Having at this place all the conveniences for writing, 
 it was a favorable opportunity to communicate to my wile 
 the progress I had made, and the princely state to which 
 I had arrived. A thought from Foster s Essay gave me 
 a jog. I recollected that in his Esssay upon "A man s wri 
 ting memoirs of himself," he gives an idea something like 
 the following. "There are hut few men who have lived 
 fifty or sixty years, who, if they were to narrate the more 
 striking events of divine providence as it respects them 
 selves, but it would be interesting." He did not mean, 
 however, that he should tell us what color every coat had 
 been that he had worn in the time. I do not wish either 
 to disgust, or even tire my readers by being too minute. 
 I will therfore promise, that if they will bear with me in 
 this instance, I will in future endeavor not to offend. 
 
 I preached three times for the Baptists on the Sabbath. 
 In the evening I was recognized while speaking by a 
 Mr. Perkins, formerly of Kennebunk port. Early on 
 Monday my servant informed me that there was a gentle 
 man in the drawing-room who wished to see me. I had no 
 expectation that L should find any one in this remote re 
 gion who knew any thing of me. I entered the drawing- 
 room; Mr. Walker very politely introduced Mr. P. to 
 me, who seemed really elated to see me; made some a- 
 pology for calling so early; observed that he had not seen 
 me for fifteen years; presumed that I had no recollection 
 of him, as he was about fifteen when he left Kennebunk 
 port. It was pleasant to ascertain that this young gen 
 tleman (whose parents I well knew,) was of good char 
 acter, and in good business. 
 
 By the assistance of Mr. Walker, and Mr. P. I sold 
 about sixty of my books in three days, and then went on 
 to Richmond, the seat of government, on the James rir- 
 er. I called on Mr. Richard C. Wortham, of the Bap- 
 
272 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 list church, a very affectionate brother, who has an ami 
 able lady; his aged and pious mother lived with him; his 
 eldest son Albert, was at the university. My accommo 
 dations here were the same as at Fredericksburg. I was 
 introduced to Rev. John Kerr, of the first Baptist church, 
 Rev. James Taylor of the 2d church, and Rev. Mr. 
 Keeling, editor of the Recorder. Deacon Archibald 
 Thomas insisted that I should make his house my home 
 a part of the time, which I did, and found his lady a very 
 interesting Christian. As I spent four weeks in the city, 
 I preached several times for Messrs. Carr and Taylor, 
 and preached several lectures in private houses. I had 
 particular attention paid me by Messrs. William and 
 James Crane. 
 
 In all my travels in Virginia, I found none who to me 
 appeared more devotional than sister Carr, the wife of 
 Rev. J. Carr; her very impressive request that 1 should 
 pray for her and hers, has very often come fresh to my 
 mind, and although absent from each other in body, I 
 trust that we have been sometimes present, in the spirit, 
 before the throne of God. * On leaving Richmond for 
 Petersburg, brother Kerr gave me the following letter. 
 
 "TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN. 
 
 " We have had the pleasure of the Rev. Andrew Sher- 
 burne s company in this city some weeks. He has 
 preached and prayed with us. He came to us highly rec 
 ommended; but our esteem for him has been greatly 
 heightened by a personal knowledge of his well regulated 
 piety as a Christian, his modesty as a man, and his practic 
 al sense as a minister of Jesus Christ. His life has been 
 marked with toil and sufferings for his country, and his 
 God. He carries with him a brief and unvarnished his 
 tory of his own life, written by himself. I have read it 
 with much interest and pleasure, and believe it well cal 
 culated to do good. The friend of liberty, of piety, and 
 of man, who has a dollar to spare will do well by giving 
 it for such a book, to such a man. 
 
 JOHN KERR, 
 
 Pastor of the \stBaptist church in the city of 
 Richmond, Va. 
 
 2dMay, 1829." 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 273 
 
 On 2nd of May, 1829, I left Richmond in the stage 
 for Petersburg, (about twenty miles south of Richmond,) 
 once the residence of Pocahontas. In the stage I had 
 some pleasant acquaintance with Hon. Samuel \Viniree, 
 xvho had been Mayor of the borough. He bought a 
 book of me before he left the stage, and the next morn 
 ing he sent and bought another. 
 
 I was hospitably entertained by brother Martin Ea 
 ton, and brother Charles Loomis, who was formerly of 
 the Baptist church in Hartford, Ct. 1 spent a week in 
 this place, and preached several lectures. My book was 
 generously patronized^ On the 10th, I preached for the 
 Baptist church and broke bread for them; and on Mon 
 day, having had opportunity to see Pocahontas wash 
 basin, an excavation in a large loose stone, three or four 
 feet in diameter, I returned to Richmond; spent a day 
 or two with my good friends, took passage in a steam 
 boat for Norfolk, and put up in Virginia style with Rev. 
 Jeremiah Hendren, with whom Rev. R. Uowell, the 
 pastor of the Baptist church, boarded, I made my home 
 chiefly with a brother Jonathan Ridley. 
 
 On the loth, I crossed the ferry to Portsmouth, and 
 called on Dr. Schoolh eld, to whom Dr. Semple directed 
 his letter. I was kindly entertained here and at every 
 other place at which I stopped. I ascended the Drum- 
 mond ten miles, to see brother D. M. Curtis and lady, 
 with whom I had had a pleasant acquaintance in Chilli- 
 cothe, in Ohio. They were both astonished and glad to 
 see me. I preached several times, and returned to 
 Portsmouth and preached for Rev. IX Woodson; cross 
 ed the river to Norfolk, and in the evening preached for 
 the Rev. R. Howell. Elder Carr and others advised 
 me to attend the Portsmouth association. Brother How- 
 ell gave me a letter to Rev. John Faulchon, who is 
 county clerk of Surry. I ascended the James river 
 again, about fifty miles, and landed on the left bank op 
 posite Jamestown, which was the first settlement in Vir 
 ginia. Brother F. lived about a mile from the river. He 
 paid every attention to me that I could wish, and sent 
 his servants after my baggage. 
 
 On Wednesday, 20th May, I spent the day very agree-* 
 
274 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ably with brother Faulchon. In the afternoon, brother 
 Philip Barzizar, a licensed preacher, with his lady, came 
 over the James river from Williamsburg, to accompany 
 brother F. to the association. Brother Barzizer was an 
 Italian Count, had been a Roman Catholic, but was now 
 a Baptist preacher. Elder Jeter also joined our com 
 pany. On the 21st, elder Faulchon gratuitously fur 
 nished me with a horse and gig, and we all set out for 
 the association. It was about thirty miles. We had 
 an agreeable interview, and returned again to brother 
 Faulchon s on the 25th. 
 
 On the morning of the 26th, being about to leave this 
 affectionate family, where I had received so many proofs 
 of kindness, we engaged in prayer, and had a solemn 
 and delightful season. He gave me two dollars for a 
 book, sent me to the river with brother Barzizar and 
 lady in his hack, where a boat and servants were ready 
 to take us over to Jamestown. We crossed the James 
 river in about the same place where Pocahontas did to 
 relieve Capt. Smith. There was but one house left 
 where what was called the city of Jamestown stood. It 
 was once the capitol of Virginia. I saw a part of the 
 steeple of the first church, or meeting-house, ever built 
 in America. I must confess such things produce very 
 solemn sensations on my mind. A few rods above the 
 old site of Jamestown, is the landing place w ? here the 
 steam-boat takes and lands passengers, coming from or 
 going to Williamsburg, which lies on another river about 
 eight miles east from Jamestown, and was the seat of 
 government at the commencement of the revolution. 
 There I saw the old State-house where Patrick Henry 
 delivered his celebrated speech; and there I also saw 
 the magazine which belonged to his Britannic Majesty, 
 which the Virginians broke open to get powder to fight 
 his soldiers. This is but a few miles from the place 
 where Cornwallis surrendered his army. It would have 
 been some satisfaction to have viewed the ground, but 
 my circumstances would not admit. Williamsburg, like 
 many other ancient places, is on the decline. The col 
 leges and the insane hospital, however, render it some 
 what celebrated. Brother Barzizar very politely ao 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 275 
 
 companied me to sell my books and took me in his gig 
 to James river; and after an affectionate farewell, I 
 again went on board the steam-boat for Norfolk. Messrs. 
 Shield, editors of the Norfolk Beacon, gave a very re 
 spectful notice of my book. I was successful in Nor 
 folk and Portsmouth in my sales. I had an interesting 
 interview with Commodore Barron, in the Navy Yard. 
 He bought half a dozen, and encouraged the sale of 
 them among his officers. Visited old Point Comfort and 
 Hampton, and returned again to Portsmouth, and put up 
 with Dr. Schoolfield. On the Lord s day, 31st, preach 
 ed for the Baptist church in Portsmouth. I was under 
 especial obligations to Dr. Williamson, of the navy. 
 
 On the l()th of June I took the steam-boat for Balti 
 more, where I spent but a few days and hastened on to 
 Philadelphia. 1 had made so long a stride toward home 
 that I was very unwilling to be detained. I was very 
 anxious indeed to get home. Six years had made a 
 great change in Philadelphia. Dr. Rogers, Dr. Staugh- 
 ton, and Dr. Holcombe were no more. I was courteously 
 entertained by my old friend David Johns. I had some 
 acquaintance with Rev. Noah Davis, since deceased. 
 He introduced me to Rev. Mr. Brantley, who treated 
 me with particular attention, for whom 1 preached one 
 Sabbath, he being called out of the city. Mr. Chandler, 
 the editor of the United States Gazette, bought a book 
 of me and gave a complimentary notice of it in his paper. 
 When I had passed through this section of the country 
 in 1823, I formed a pleasant acquaintance with the Bap 
 tist church in the Great valley, about fifteen miles from 
 Philadelphia. I obtained a passage out to the Great 
 valley, and called on deacon Jonathan Philips, and had 
 a rery friendly interview with him and his lady. Lord s 
 day, ;21st, he took me in his carriage to the meeting 
 house, where I preached. In the afternoon I preached 
 in a grove, to a large audience, near the King of Prus 
 sia s tavern. On Monday, the deacon and his lady ac 
 companied me to E. Siter s, Esq., and also to Daniel 
 Abraham s, Esq. whose wife was the deacon s daughter. 
 Here I parted with the deacon, who was now upwards 
 of seventy, and never expected to meet with him again 
 
276 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 in time. In the morning, Esquire Abraham accompa 
 nied me to Mr. Lemuel George s, another old acquain 
 tance, where we were indulged with a very pleasant in 
 terview, and returned again to brother Siter s, from 
 whence I took the stage for Philadelphia, and called on 
 Mr. John Justin. This worthy brother and his amiable 
 lady, as well as those precious friends above mentioned 
 at the Great valley, had years before taken me in when 
 a stranger. Mr. Justin lived in Vincennes when I passed 
 along here six years ago; and in my first edition he is 
 erroneously called Fustin. He and his excellent wife 
 treated me as affectionate children. I can never forget 
 their kindness ; I made their house my home. But 
 notwithstanding all the kindness they could bestow on 
 me, I was sinking under my burden, and saw it indis 
 pensably necessary that I should shape my course home 
 wards. On the 8th of July I set out for New-York, 
 arrived at 6 o-clbck, and was heartily welcomed by my 
 very worthy brother and sister Lewis. They certainly 
 took a very deep interest in rny welfare. 
 
 I was so very anxious to get home, that nothing could 
 divert my attention. As soon as it was practicable I got 
 my baggage on board the steam-boat, went on to Albany, 
 and without calling on a single friend took a canal-boat 
 for Utica; and on the J5lh of July, 1829, by the abound 
 ing mercy of God, arrived home and found my family 
 all well. Through the kindness of heaven I had suc 
 ceeded in paying oif my printer s bill, and my other 
 debts, and was able to do something to my house, which 
 was yet unfinished. Of course, I could find employ 
 ment at home for a few months. My precious little 
 daughters lay very near my heart. I could scarcely in 
 dulge a thought of living to see them arrive to maturity, 
 and I felt as though it was indispensably necessary that 
 what I could do for them should be done quickly. 
 
 About the middle of November, I took with me my 
 youngest son, and set off for the state of Maine. John, 
 my oldest son, having gone on a year before to visit his 
 friends, and to superintend the sale of a box of books I had 
 sent on to Portland, the remainder of my books being at 
 Albany, I sent a box of three hundred to Providence, K. I. 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 277 
 
 and taking about one hundred with me, went on our jour 
 ney. In Lansingburgh I was generously patronized. We 
 then passed on without delay through Vermont, and cross 
 ed the Connecticut river at Charleston, N. H. I made 
 it convenient to visit Mr. Andrew Sherburne, my cousin, 
 who lived in Hopkinton. There was but a few months 
 difference in our ages; we had not seen each other for 
 many years. His brother John lived within three miles, 
 in the town of Concord. John s wife was also my own 
 cousin, the same who with Miss Hannah Nutter, so nar 
 rowly escaped being drowned with me in our trip to 
 Dover. As might be expected, we met with a very 
 pleasant reception in those families, and while our par 
 ents and so many of those who had been our contempo 
 raries, were sleeping in the dust, we had the opportunity 
 to contrast our juvenile years with the days of decrepi 
 tude and advanced age. It was very convenient for me 
 to make my home with my cousin John, while I was 
 selling my books to the patriots of Concord, where I 
 spent one Sabbath, and preached once for my much es 
 teemed brother, the Rev. Mr. Williams, formerly of 
 Beverly, Ms. 
 
 Almost all my first wife s connexions lived in this re 
 gion. Gen. James Blake, of Chichester, married one of 
 her nieces. Mr. David Sherburne, of Epsom, was her 
 nephew. My uncle C. s children Jived also in this 
 section of country. To all these I was as one from the 
 dead; we had never expected to meet each other again 
 in time. My interview with this large circle of relations 
 and friends was indeed interesting. 
 
 When I pass through places that were familiar to me 
 * in my boyhood, which I have not visited for many years, 
 it occasions very serious and solemn sensations, that I 
 cannot describe. I am far from supposing that such 
 sensations are peculiar to myself. In Epsom, no one 
 object excited more peculiar emotions, than an ancient 
 orchard that my hands had helped to plant more than 
 sixty years ago. The trees looked ancient, and as plain 
 as they could speak, they told me that like myself they 
 were decaying. Is there not an appointed time to man 
 upon the earth? I visited my brother, D. M. Ingalls, 
 
27B MEMOIRS OF 
 
 at Baldwin, in Maine, who married my youngest sister. 
 They had recently buried a most desirable son, about 
 eight years of age. His disposition was so very amia 
 ble, that he was the idol of the whole family. On our 
 way eastward 1 visited my sister Abigail s children, in 
 North Yarmouth, whose husband was Mr. Joel Haven; 
 and on the Kennebunk river visited my uncle Green s 
 descendants; and in Belmont I was permitted once more 
 to behold the face of my honored uncle James Wey- 
 mouth, who suffered with me on board the awful Jersey. 
 I had not seen him for more than twenty years. I came 
 upon him unexpectedly; but I shall not, for 1 cannot 
 describe the scene, only to say we embraced like chil 
 dren. Could it be possible but that it would revive again 
 those distressing scenes of the " Old Jersey" and her 
 hospital ships. The good old gentleman was in afflic 
 tion, his wile deranged, in consequence of the death of 
 their only daughter some years since. She was a very 
 interesting child. I also visited my brother George and 
 his wife, who live in Prospect, on the Penobscot river, 
 whom I had not seen for more than twenty years. Death 
 had also lopped of their pleasant branches. But to all 
 this long list of endeared relatives, I must be only as a 
 way-faring man, who had turned aside but for a night, 
 My brother George accompanied me to Bangor, while 
 my two sons enjoyed themselves with their worthy aunt 
 and cousins. It was now January, and we were in haste 
 to return. Being in a wagon, we were fearful of being 
 retarded by the snow. In Portland I had a pleasant 
 time with my many old friends. I preached here seve 
 ral times, once at the Mariner s church, and had many 
 phasant interviews with my old brethren. Brother 
 Thomas Hammond took an especial interest in facilitat 
 ing the sale of my books. G. W. Pierce, Esq. the son 
 of my old friend Hon. Josiah Pierce, of Baldwin, very 
 much befriended me. 
 
 I could make my friends at Kennebunk-Port and vi 
 cinity, but a partial visit; they had heard of my design 
 to visit them, and expected that I should spend several 
 weeks, at least among them; but in many families I 
 could not afford to spend even a half an hour, where they 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 
 
 had hoped that I should spend at least a night I preach 
 ed once at my old stand, once at the Port, and once at 
 Kennebunk. They evinced their friendliness by libe 
 rally patronizing my book. I forbear to name any of 
 them, because I cannot name them all. I bear them on 
 my heart, and hope to meet them in heaven. 
 
 In Portsmouth, I had opportunity to visit my brother 
 Randal Fernald, and my cousin Capt. Joseph Sherburne, 
 on the ancient farm on the plain, to whom, with his lady 
 and children, I am under especial obligation. By the 
 mercy of God I arrived home with my two sons in good 
 htealth, on the 10th of April 1830, and had the satisfac 
 tion to find my family well. In my first edition I men 
 tioned the sale of some village lots of land in Batavia, 
 in Ohio. I had received information that nothing but 
 my personal presence could recover them. I set out on 
 the 20th of May on a journey of more than six hundred 
 miles, succeeded in getting the lots transferred to my 
 son again, had the satisfaction of seeing many old friends, 
 of selling about sixty books, which were all that I had 
 with me, and returned to my family on the 20th July, 
 and by the mercy of God found them all well. It was 
 my intention to go to Providence on the first of Septem 
 ber. But my gracious God saw fit to detain me, that I 
 might pass an afflictive scene with my family. I had 
 been astonished at the forbearance of heaven toward us 
 in sparing our lives, while death had in years past 
 been visiting almost every family around us. I had prob 
 ably enjoyed myself as highly for the space of two months, 
 with my precious little girls, as any other old man ever 
 did with his young children. Eliza Ann was by the 
 neighbors called the most interesting of the family. On 
 the 20th of September she was taken ill; by the 25th her 
 physician pronounced her very ill; we began to despair 
 of her recovery. The trial was great, we had never 
 been called to part with a child. 1 was brought to view 
 the hand of God in this. When on about the eighth 
 day, the doctor gave her up, the mother was almost in 
 consolable. 
 
 " Judge ye who know a mothers cares, 
 For the dear tender babe she bears." 
 
280 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 I endeavored to put myself on trial. I seemed con 
 vinced she must go. I i elt almost forbidden to pray lor 
 her life, and endeavored to persuade myseif that 1 was 
 reconciled to her death, and I indulged in the following 
 reflections. If she lives, she will sin against a holy God. 
 If she lives, she will have to endure the trials and sor 
 rows which mortals are incident to. She will not be left 
 a helpless orphan. The Lord will not suffer the dear 
 babe to become contaminated with vice. He has occa 
 sion for her of such is the kingdom of heaven. All 
 must die at some time, for the debt must be paid. Not 
 my will, but thine, O Lord, be done. But all this dots 
 not sever the ties of affection. She breathed her last on 
 the first day of October, and the eleventh day of her 
 sickness, which was the canker-rash. 
 
 " Go view the garden where the fragrant rose, 
 In all the youthful pride of beauty glows; 
 Go pluck the tender flower, and pensive, say, 
 So cruel death may pluck me down to-day. 
 Tis often seen and known to be a truth, 
 That death first preys upon the fairest youth \ 
 The flowers that blossom fiist, first fade away, 
 So fruit that first gets ripe, will first decay." 
 
 She was permitted to stay with me until I had run out 
 the sixty-fifth year of my age. Those only from whom 
 the Lord hath taken 
 
 " Those dear delights they here enjoyed, 
 And fondly called their own," 
 
 can tell how fond parents in such circumstances feel; 
 they well know that language cannot describe their feel 
 ings but in part. 
 
 I cannot willingly close my little volume without ad 
 dressing a few lines more particularly to my own dear 
 children; nor can I conceive of a place more appropri 
 ate for that purpose than this. 
 
 My dear children, I have you much upon my heart; and 
 J am now three hundred miles from you, and may never 
 see you again. As certain as your dear sister is dead, 
 so certain I must die, and you nlso must die. It is my 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 281 
 
 fervent, humble wish and prayer to God, that you may 
 all be happy; that you may be happy in this world and 
 in the world to come. But you cannot be happy, unless 
 you are just arid virtuous. If you would be happy, you 
 must be pious; you must love the Lord Jesus Christ in 
 truth and sincerity, and keep his commandments. I 
 have already admonished you, and instructed you, and 
 would now my dear children exhort you to read your 
 Bible, and especially the New 5 Testament, carefully, stu 
 diously and prayerfully. Remember the Sabbath day; 
 honor your parents; suppress your anger, your pride, 
 and every lust. Live in love with each other, and may 
 the God of all grace bless you in time and eternity. 
 
 On the 19th November, 1830, I again left my dear 
 family for the purpose of disposing ofthe books yet unsold. 
 My son John accompanied me as far as Kirkland, (about 
 ten miles) where he was going to stay with my good 
 friend Enos Nichols, Esq. On the 20th, I went on alone, 
 alternately indulging hopes and fears. My more intel 
 lectual and reflecting readers will draw their own con 
 clusions respecting the state of my mind, in view ofthe 
 events which had lately occurred in my family, and the 
 certainty of my enduring the trials of another winter, 
 (as I had the two preceding, abroad,) if my life should 
 be prolonged. To me, however, it appeared to be duty. 
 Painful therefore as the thought was of leaving sweet 
 home, viewing that the path of duty is the path of safety, 
 I endeavored to commit my concerns to my God, and 
 patiently endure his chastenings. After all, the unsta 
 ble and deceitful heart will repine, if not murmur. While 
 riding alone through the mud, day after day, it seemed 
 almost impossible but that I should bring to view, at least 
 occasionally, the pleasant scenes I had enjoyed a few- 
 weeks before, when my precious little girls were sitting 
 on my knees, with each an arm around my neck, amus 
 ing me with their sweet musical prattle. God forbid 
 that I should indulge a murmur, though I mourn. His 
 mercies have been great toward me, and I will praise 
 him though he chasten me, and although he slay me 
 yet will I trust in him. 
 
 On the 24th, I called on Col. A. Burtt, at Water- 
 24* 
 
282 MEMOIRS or 
 
 vliet. He had read my book, and although an entire 
 stranger, he and his pious lady treated me with as much 
 affection as if we had been brothers. Here I left my 
 horse, and went on to the city of New-York, where I 
 had the satisfaction to find my much esteemed brother 
 Daniel Lewis and family all in health. I had also the 
 satisfaction to find my much esteeemed brother, John 
 H. Harris and family, in health; who had been and 
 still were very friendly to me- I spent ten days in the 
 city, and sold eighty books. I am under especial obli 
 gations to Mr. John Smalley, a lawyer, and to Mr. G. 
 Morgan, a book-seller, for the interest they took in aid 
 ing the sale of my work; nor is the kindness of Judge 
 Flanigan forgotten. On the 7th of December, I took 
 the steam-boat for Albany; spent a night at Col. Burtt s, 
 and set out for Providence. At \\est-Stockbridge, I 
 was hospitably entertained, by deacon Christopher 
 French, and at Colebrook by Rev. Rufus Babcock, 
 where I had ad excellent harbor in a rain-storm. He is 
 a worthy old brother, whose praise is in all the churches. * 
 
 At Canton, Ct. I was kindly entertained by Harvy " 
 Case, Esq. a Baptist brother, who gave me $ 1 25, fo* 
 a book. His father, the venerable deacon Elisha Case, 
 gave me an ancient cane, which had for many years 
 been the property of Benjamin Mills, late of Can 
 ton, a deacon of the Congregational church, no less 
 celebrated for his piety, than for his patriotism. He 
 was an aid to Gen. Montgomery, who fell by his side 
 before Quebec, and was afterwards a Quartermaster in 
 the U. S. service to the close of the war. He died a 
 few years since, at the advanced age of ninety-seven. In 
 the last year of his life, he constantly walked two miles 
 to meeting, on the Sabbath, until within a few weeks of 
 his death, 
 
 It was not convenient to spend but a few min 
 utes with my worthy brother. Kev. G. Phippen, who 
 also bought a book. He was engaged in a school. On 
 the 17th, was kindly entertained, and had an inter 
 esting interview with a brother Truman Woodford and 
 lady. Arrived at Hartford on the 18th, arid sold a book 
 $o deacon Joseph B. Gilbert, by whom and his lady I 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 283 
 
 was so kindly provided for in 1823. Spent the Sabbath 
 in Hartford, and preached for Rev. G. Davis part of the 
 day; and Monday pursued my journey to Providence, 
 not having books for Hartford. I design, however, if 
 the Lord will, to supply them with my second edition. 
 I arrived at Providence, on the 1st of January, 1831. 
 
 Providence to rne is a memorable place. More than 
 fifty years ago I was landed here, a poor sick beggar, 
 from prison; and forty-eight years ago, I was landed 
 here again a prisoner, from the dismal Jersey prison- 
 ship, in as wretched a condition as any other person who 
 travelled home in the course of the war. Seven years, 
 ago, I again visited Providence, although not a beggar 
 yet in a very dependant condition: having left my fam 
 ily sick in Ohio, and having but just recovered from a 
 long fit of sickness, in Middletown, Ct. Since I was 
 last here, my good brother Gano and many others, have 
 gone the way of all the earth. I was treated affection 
 ately by the Rev. Messrs. Pattison and Church, pas 
 tors of the 1st and 2d Baptist Churches. 
 While selling my memoirs at the South, in 1 829, 1 under 
 stood that a Captain Dring of Rhode-Island, was about 
 to publish his "recollections of the Jersey prison ship." 
 During this visit to Providence, I was introduced to Al 
 bert G. Greene, Esq. the editor, and to Mr. H. H. Brown 
 the publisher of the aforesaid book. They were among 
 my patrons; the former had the politeness to make me a 
 present of the aforesaid work. It is written in an ele 
 gant style, is handsomely executed, and a very interest 
 ing volume. Until I came to Providence, I had the im 
 pression that Captain Dring was living. But I find that 
 he has gone to that borne from which no traveller re 
 turns; living, however, in respectful remembrance of 
 the inhabitants of Providence. I also ascertained that the 
 publication of my memoirs, was the occasion of Captain 
 Dring s making its appearance. It appears by Captain 
 Dring s account, that he was released from the Jersey, 
 early in October, 1782; and I was put on board the Jer 
 sey late in Nov. 1782. He is much more minute in his 
 deicription, than I have been in mine. 
 
284 MEMOIRS or 
 
 So far as it respects the more prominent parts of the 
 picture, they made too deep an impression on the mind, 
 to be easily " forgotten," as he observes, even after the 
 lapse of (" forty-two") or as I may say, of forty-eight 
 years. I had forgotten the names of those hospital ships 
 of which he speaks, the Scorpion, Stromboli, and Hun 
 ter. It is highly probable that the Frederick was employ 
 ed as a hospital ship after Capt. Dring left the Jersey, 
 and the number of prisoners was increased that fall and 
 winter. The crew of the Chesapeake, consisting of a- 
 bout three hundred, were brought in at one time, I have 
 the impression, that on some days, more than twenty died 
 in a day on board the Jersey and the hospital ships. 
 I have already said, that there were seven died in one 
 night, on board the ship where I was confined. It was 
 Capt. Dring s misfortune to suffer with the heat, and mine 
 with the cold. In regard to our rations, it is highly prob 
 able that the same order did not exist when I was on board. 
 
 While last in New- York I formed a pleasant acquain 
 tance with Capt. Jabel Ingraham, of Seekonk, about three 
 miles from Providence. I found it very convenient to get 
 my horse kept there, and am under especial obligations to 
 him and his lady. I spent more than a week at differ 
 ent times in their family, very agreeably, while the in 
 clemency of the season prevented my travelling. 
 
 B. F. Hailett, Esq. editor of the Daily Advertiser, 
 gave my book a respectful notice, gratuitously. One of 
 the first books sold, was to W. R. Staples, Esq. a law 
 yer. I saw him a few days after; he told me he had sat 
 up one night till 1 1 o clock, and another night till one, 
 and had read my book through; and he had the kindness to 
 give me a work of R. Williams, worth a dollar. 
 John Howland, Esq. one of the most respectable citizens 
 of the place, having bought and read my book, informed 
 me that the druggist, who so hospitably entertained me 
 and my uncle forty eight-years ago, when we landed from 
 the Jersey, must have been Governor Bowen, who at 
 that time kept a druggist shop in the place I described. 
 I had the satisfaction to sell one to his son, Henry Bowen, 
 Esq. who is now Secretary of the State. 
 
 Indeed I believe almost all the lawyers in the place 
 bought of me. I was very liberally patronized by the prin- 
 
ANDREW SHERBURNE. 285 
 
 cipal part of the merchants and manufacturers. I am 
 under especial obligations to Deacon Joseph Martin, 
 and lady, where I was aflfectionataly entertained, as long 
 as it was convenient for me to stay. I was highly gratih- 
 ed in the company of friend Moses Brown, who is over 
 four score and ten; his faculties seem as bright as if he 
 was hut sixty he could tell me much about the ancients 
 he very cheerfully bought a book I asked him if he 
 could write now I observed that gentlemen generally 
 placed their names on my book told him that it would 
 be a gratification if he would place his name upon it 
 "O yes," said the old patriarch rose up, went to the 
 table, mended his pen, and wrote " Moses Brown, ag 
 ed 92 years, 3 months, and 25 days" in as fair a hand 
 as is generally written. I had the curiosity to write as 
 follows, viz. " a descendant of Chad Brown, the father of 
 John Brown; who was the father of James; who was the 
 father of the second James; who was the fa*ther of the 
 present Moses Brown; who now has great grand children." 
 Capt. Solomon Townsend was confined to his house .with, 
 a lame foot. Mr. Potter, who had bought a book of me, 
 took it to Capt. Townsend, who read it and sent word 
 to me, that if I would call on him he would buy one. 1 
 was entirely willing to avail myself of the opportunity. I 
 called, found him and his lady very friendly, they having 
 read rny book, seemed like old acquaintances. She is a 
 member of the first Baptist church the Capt. had been 
 much over the world himself had been a long time 
 Capt. of an East India-man, and had been round the 
 globe. It would be interesting to have his story in de 
 tail; but it is riot at all probable that the public will ever 
 get it; were he reduced to my circumstances, such a 
 thing might be possible. Having spent a night with the 
 Captain, I spent a day also, for it was stormy. He and 
 his lady invited me whenever I came to Providence, to 
 make their house my home. Thus the Lord graciously 
 raises up friends for me. 
 
 I was deeply interested, and highly gratified in the 
 company of the pious and venerable John Hubbard, Mrs. 
 Townsend s father. I have already mentioned friend 
 Moses Brown. These aged patriarchs and my father 
 
266 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 were born the same year, but they have outlived him 
 more than half a century. 
 
 About the 1st of Feb. I visited Pawtucket, and had the 
 satisfaction of visiting Rev. C. Philleo and family, with 
 whom I had formerly been acquainted ; took part with him 
 in an interesting meeting at Central Falls. 1 was kind 
 ly entertained at Capt. Gage s. I was very pleasantly 
 accommodated several days at brother Bosworth Walk- 
 er *; himself and his pious and very agreeable lady, were 
 very much devoted to me. I made their house my home. 
 I pray God to reward them for their labor of love. In 
 Pawtucket I was generously patronized. Went on to 
 Boston, where I had frequently associated with the wor 
 thy Baldwin, now no more. Here I found Dr. Bolles, 
 my old friend. I put up with Rev. William Collier 
 preached twice to brother Collier s people visited good 
 old Deacon Hiler and his agreeable family Mr. James 
 Newhall Rev. John Peak, an old friend and acquain 
 tance, Deacon Ileman Lincoln, and many others; but it 
 was my principal business to sell my books. I^pent 
 more than two weeks in Boston; sold 120 books, and re 
 turned to Providence, and agreed with brother Hugh H. 
 Brown to print another small edition. He very gener 
 ously made me welcome to his house, and furnishc?d me 
 with convenient accommodations, while I prepared my 
 book for a second edition. 
 
 Thus I have doomed myself to many months of hard 
 toil, if the Lord will that my life should be spared, and my 
 health admit. I can conceive of no more advantageous 
 employment in which I can engage what little time I may 
 be permitted to be active. I must, however, leave it all with 
 God, to do with me and mine as seemeth him good. In 
 his holy pleasure, I have had much to suffer; he has nev 
 ertheless been very gracious. Truly, goodness and mer 
 cy have followed me all my days. He has saved rny feet 
 from falling, mine eyes from tears, and my soul from death, 
 while my fellows have been falling all around. I will 
 therefore say, bless the Lord O my soul, and let all that 
 is within me bless his holy name. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 While in the city of New-York, on the last of Nov. 
 1 understood that Mr. David Williams, the only surviv 
 or of the capturers of Maj. Andre, was in the city. He 
 had recently been invited to the city to join the citizens 
 in celebrating the recent French Revolution. I had the 
 curiosity to seo him, and had the satisfaction of an in 
 troduction to him, and the gratification of hearing him 
 narrate some of the particulars of that important capture. 
 But a more minute and circumstantial account of the 
 affair shortly after appeared in the Albany Daily Ad 
 vertiser. As this document also brings to view "the 
 deeds of the days of other years," I cheerfully give it 
 a place in my little volume. 
 
 WILLIAMS, THE SURVIVING CAPTOR OF ANDRE. 
 
 During the late visit to N. York, I had the gratification 
 of an introduction and of several interviews with DAVID 
 WILLIAMS, the only survivor of the three militiamen who 
 arrested Major Andre ; arid as he is now a subject of 
 general interest, I shall attempt some description of him, 
 in the belief that it will be gratifying to the public. 
 
 He is now 77 years of age; of good appearance, with 
 a healthy and somewhat florid countenance, and was in 
 his youth no doubt, what would be called handsome; 
 rather thick set, and measured, I should suppose, when 
 erect, about five feet eight inches; but now, owing to the 
 rheumatism, he stoops much. He walks quite lame, 
 leaning on a cane which was presented to him, and 
 which was made of the wood of the chevaux-de-frieze 
 placed by the Americans, in the revolution, near West 
 Point, to prevent the British vessels from ascending the 
 river. His whole appearance is scuh as will justify the 
 application to him of the language of Shakspeare: 
 
288 APPENDIX. 
 
 " Though 1 look old, yet I am strong and lusty/ 
 For in my youth I never did apply 
 Hot and rebellious liquor to my blood; 
 Nor did not with unblushing forehead woo 
 The means of weakness and debility; 
 r l herefore flay age is as a lusty winter, 
 Frosty, bui Kindly." 
 
 I spent several hours with him at different times at 
 the JNinth Ward Hotel in New- York, where he stayed 
 while in that city, sometimes alone and sometimes in 
 large companies, and there are lew men with whom I 
 take more pleasure, than I did with him. He is a man 
 of very general information, and has evidently been a 
 steady and close reader of newspapers. He has a thor 
 ough knowledge of all the political events which have 
 occurred in the world for many years. With politics of 
 this country, generally, and with that of this state partic 
 ularly, he is well acquainted. 
 
 While I was with him, I saw him introduced to a large 
 number who had called to see him, and I was pleased 
 at the easy and happy manner in which he received them. 
 I also saw him introduced to some ladies, and the native 
 and unaffected politeness with which he approached 
 them, and touched their cheeks (a privilege which he 
 claims of all the ladies to whom he is presented, and 
 which is no doubt always willingly granted) pleased and 
 interested all present. 
 
 1 was present when an interview took place between 
 him and a man named Abraham Le Foy, who was in the 
 army at West Point, at the time of the detection of Ar 
 nold. It was affecting to see the greetings which they 
 gave each other, and heart stirring to hear them talk of 
 days gone by, of hardships suffered, and privations en 
 dured, in the cause of liberty. The fire of patriotism ap 
 peared to burn in their breasts with renewed vigor, and 
 the tears which dropped from their aged and bedimmed 
 eyes were answered by like tokens of feeling in the spec 
 tators. 
 
 It was not the least gratifying part of my communion 
 with the veteran, to hear him describe an interview which 
 he had with Washington soon after the capture of Andre. 
 That hero took him and his two companions, Van Wart 
 
APPENDIX. 289 
 
 and Paulding, by the hand, and thanked them in warm 
 terms, in behalf of himself and the nation, for the ser 
 vices they had rendered, and congratulated them on their 
 firmness and patriotism in regarding their country before 
 wealth. Washington said to them, on parting, "young 
 men, take care of yourselves." At this time, neither 
 Williams nor Van Wart could read; Paulding being the 
 one who perused the papers found on Andre. From 
 that moment, they determined to acquire a knowledge of 
 letters, and they carried their determination into effect, 
 and endeavored generally to follow the advice of the Fa 
 ther of his country. 
 
 One evening a large party had assembled at the above 
 hotel, to pay their respects to Williams, and some good 
 singers favored the company with some national songs. 
 It was gratifying to witness the enthusiasm manifested 
 by the veteran, at the patriotic sentiments of the songs, 
 and he joined in chorus with much feeling. He him 
 self sung a song written during the revolution; the last 
 words of every verse, were " the brave George Wash 
 ington." These words he sounded to the very top of 
 his voice, and in a tone and manner whkfh exhibited 
 that his whole soul was wrapt in love of country, and in 
 grateful feeling- to the great and good man whose name 
 he repeated with such emphasis. 
 
 Williams wears at his breast a medal, which was pre 
 sented to him by Congress, as a mark of his services in 
 capturing Andre; this he exhibits with a laudable pride. 
 Congress also granted him a pension of $300 a year. A 
 small compensation for the value of his services. 
 
 While he was in New-York, at the time of which I am 
 speaking, the scholars of the Ninth Ward Public School 
 presented him with an elegant silver pitcher, contain 
 ing appropriate inscriptions. With this present, he was 
 exceedingly gratified; and I am told by those who were 
 at the presentation, that the veteran s voice was almost 
 inaudible, so much was he affected at this mark of youth 
 ful regard and gratitude. This pitcher became a great 
 favorite with his numerous visitors; and hundreds of per 
 sons drank from it, declaring that it gave an excellent 
 flavor to the liquor. A beautiful and substantial horse and 
 25 
 
290 APPENDIX. 
 
 wagon were also presented to him by a number of gentle 
 men. He sat for several portraits. He visited the Bowery 
 theatre by request of the managers, and a box was decorat 
 ed for him. When he entered the house, he was received 
 with deafening cheers, and he acknowledged the honor by 
 repeated bows. The statement in some papers, that he 
 himself gave, in the theatre, a history oi the transaction 
 which has immortalized him, is erroneous: That history 
 was read by the manager. A splendid ball was also given 
 him at the Ninth Ward Hotel. Many other tokens of 
 affection and regard were given him. 
 
 The veteran expressed himself highly gratified at the 
 kindness and attention which were bestowed on him 
 while in New-York. He was much attached to Mr. 
 Campbell, the proprietor of the Ninth Ward Hotel, who 
 was deputed to visit him at his residence at Livingston- 
 viSle, Schoharie co. and invite him to join with the inhab 
 itants of the Ninth W T ard, in celebrating the French rev 
 olution; and who also waited on him back to his home. 
 
 The visit of Williams to the metropolis, and his parti 
 cipating in the celebration of the glorious events which 
 have occurred in France, have surely had a most happy 
 and salutary effect in sustaining a love of country, and 
 awakening lively feelings of pure and lofty patriotism in 
 the hearts of thousands who saw him. The sight of him 
 would cause their minds to recur to the days of gloom 
 and despondency, when a young and weak nation was 
 manfully and almost hopelessly resisting the giant power 
 of a kingdom, which had never bowed before any. When 
 a people, poor and harassed, with an army nearly with 
 out food, and often without clothing to keep them warm, 
 and without shelter to protect them from the wintry blast, 
 were contending against a power with whom gold was 
 like dirt, and whose soldiers had every comfort and con 
 venience which were required! When one of our best 
 generals, high in the confidence of Washington, and el 
 evated in the esteem of his countrymen, forgetting his 
 honor and throwing from him his glory, basely bargain 
 ed to sell himself to disgrace, and his country to ruin, 
 for the possession of lucre, and the gratification of private 
 and unworthy revenge. 
 
APPENDIX. 291 
 
 Their minds would then revert to the singular fact 
 that three obscure and unknown young men, bound 
 to their country by no tie except birth, but governed by 
 that high and holy spirit of patriotism which can find 
 lodgment only in pure hearts, firmly resisted offers far 
 exceeding in value those which have tempted to infamy 
 many, filling important places in their country s service. 
 
 The reflections which would ensue could not but pro 
 duce the most elevated feelings of virtue and patriotism. 
 There they saw before them, like a bent and venerable 
 oak, alone upon the plain, and rejoicing with them at the 
 success of principles inherent in his nature, one of those 
 men who nobly preferred their country to wealth their 
 honest poverty to ignobly obtained riches. They could 
 say, "there is an INCORRUPTIBLE PATRIOT there is the 
 NOBLEST WORK OF GOD, an HONEST MAN." They 
 could show him to their children and tell them his histo 
 ry. Need it be said what benign effect the lesson would 
 have on the young mind ? 
 
 Williams is now travelling to the land to which his 
 two associates and most others of the times of the revo 
 lution have gone before him. His downward path is one 
 of calmness, for virtue is his companion. It is one of 
 happiness, for the prayers of the good, and the blessings 
 of the patriot accompany him on the way. And when 
 he shall have arrived at the last gaol, paeons of joy will 
 arise and shouts of congratulation be poured forth from 
 his fellows, at the coming among them of one whose pu 
 rity could receive no just reward till he entered into the 
 rest and partook of the bliss of heaven. 
 
 The following brief history of the life of Williams, 
 previous to the capture of Andre, and detailed statement 
 of that event, were written down as dictated by him, and 
 give a more full account of himself and the capture, than 
 has ever been published. It was read to him after it was 
 written, and he certified to its correctness. His own 
 language is preserved throughout, as near as might, be. 
 
 I was born in Tarrrytown, then called Philip s Manor, 
 Westchester county, New- York, 1754. I entered the 
 army 1775, at the age of 21, and was under General 
 Montgomery at the taking of Fort St. Johns, and after- 
 
292 APPENDIX. 
 
 wards on board of flat bottomed boats to carry provisions 
 Sec. ; served out my time, which was six months; I then 
 went home, listed again in the spring of 1776, and contin 
 ued in the service by different enlistments, as a New- 
 York militiaman, until 1779. 
 
 In 1778, when in Captain Acker s company of New- 
 York militia at Tarrytown, I asked his permission to take 
 a walk in company with William Van Wart, a boy about 
 sixteen or seventeen years old. I proceeded to the 
 cross roads on Tompkins ridge, stood looking a few 
 minutes, and saw five men coming; they had arms; we 
 jumped over a stone fence and concealed ourselves in a 
 corner of it; observed that they were armed with two 
 muskets and three pistols. They came so nigh that we 
 recognized two of them, viz. William Underbill, and Will 
 iam Mosher, who were known to be of De Lancy s corps, 
 who were tories. When they came within proper dis 
 tance, 1 said to my companion, " Billy, neck or no joint!" 
 I then said aloud, as if speaking to a number, with the 
 view of intimidating them, " men make ready." They 
 stopped immediately; I told them to ground their arms, 
 which they did: I then said; "march away," they did so; 
 I then jumped over the fence, secured their arms, and 
 made them march before us to our quarters. I contin 
 ued in the service until a week or ten days before the 
 year 1780. 
 
 In December, 1779, Captain Daniel Williams, who 
 was the commander of our company, mounted us on 
 horses, and we went to Morrisiana, Westchester coun 
 ty. We swept all Morrisiana clear, took probably 
 $5000 worth of property, returned to Tarrytown, and 
 quartered at Young s house. My feet being frozen, 
 my uncle Martinus Van Wart took rne to his house. I 
 told Capt. Williams that the enemy would soon be at 
 Young s, and that if he remained there he would be on 
 his way to Morrisiana before morning. He paid no at 
 tention to my remarks; he did not believe me; but in 
 the course of the night a woman came to my uncle s, 
 crying, "Uncle Martinus! Uncle Martinus! the enemy 
 are at Young s house!" which was the truth, as the 
 British had surrounded it, made prisoners of all the com 
 pany excepting two, and burnt the barn. 
 
APPENDIX. 293 
 
 Having got well of my frozen feet, on the 3d of June, 
 1780, we were all driven from Tarry town to the upper 
 part of Westchester county, in the town of Salem. We 
 belonged to no organized company at all; were under 
 no command, and worked for our board or Johnny Cake. 
 Isaac Van Wart, who was a cousin of mine, Nicholas 
 Storms, and myself, went to Tarrytown on a visit; we 
 carried our muskets with us, and on our way took a 
 Quaker, who said he was going to New- York after salt 
 and other things. The Quaker was taken before the 
 American authority and acquitted. 
 
 In July or August, a number of persons, of whom 1 
 was one, went to visit our friends in Tarrytown, and 
 while on the way, took ten head of cattle, which some 
 refugees were driving to New- York, and on examina 
 tion before the authority, the cattle were restored to 
 their right owners, as they pleaded innocence, saying 
 they were stolen from them. I then returned to Salem 
 and worked with a Mr. Benedict for my board, until the 
 22d of September. It was about one o clock, P. M. as 
 I was standing in the door with Mr. Benedict s daugh 
 ter, (who was afterwards my wife) when I saw six men 
 coming; she remarked, " they have got guns." I 
 jumped over a board fence and met them. " Boys," 
 said I, " where are you going?" They answered, " we 
 are going to Tarrytown." I then said, " if you will 
 wait until I get my gun, I will go with you." The names 
 of five of these persons were Isaac Van Wart, John 
 Paulding, William Williams, John Yerks, and James 
 Romer; the name of the sixth I have forgotten. We pro 
 ceeded about fifteen miles that night, and slept in a hay 
 barrack. In the morning we crossed Buttermilk hill, 
 when John Paulding proposed to go to Isaac Reed s, 
 and get a pack of cards to divert ourselves with. After 
 procuring them we went to Davis Hill, where we 
 separated; leaving four on the hill, and three, viz. Van 
 Wart, Paulding and myself, proceeded on the Tarry- 
 town road about one mile, and concealed .-ourselves in 
 the bushes on the west side of the road, and commenc 
 ed playing cards, three handed, that is, each one for 
 himself. We had not been playing more than an hour, 
 25* 
 
294 APPENDIX. 
 
 when we heard a horse galloping across a bridge but a 
 few yards from us; which of us spoke I do not remem 
 ber; one of us said, "there comes a trader going to 
 New-York." We stepped out from our concealment 
 and stopped him. " My lads," said he, " I hope you 
 belong to our party." We asked him "what party?" 
 He replied " the lower party." We told him " we did." 
 He then said, " I am a British officer, have been up the 
 country on particular business, and would not wish to 
 be detained a minute," and as a token to convince us 
 he was a gentleman, he pulled out and shewed us his 
 gold watch; we then told him we were Americans. 
 "God bless my soul," said he, "a man must do any 
 thing these times to get along," and then shewed us Ar 
 nold s pass. We told him " it would not satisfy us 
 without searching him." "My lads," said he, "you 
 will bring yourselves into trouble." We answered, 
 " we did not fear it," and conducted him about seventy 
 rods into the woods. My comrades appointed me to 
 search him; commencing with his hat, I searched him, 
 but found nothing, until I pulled off one of his boots, 
 when we discovered that something was concealed in 
 his stocking. Paulding caught hold of his foot and ex 
 claimed, " By G , here it is!" I pulled off his stock 
 ing, and inside of it, next the sole of his foot, found 
 three half sheets of paper, enclosed in another half 
 sheet, which was endorsed " West Point;" and on pul 
 ling off the other boot and stocking, I found three like 
 papers, enclosed and endorsed as the others. On read 
 ing them, one of my comrades said, " By G , he is a 
 spy." We then asked him where he got those papers; 
 he told us, "of a man at Pine s Bridge, but he said he 
 did not know his name. He offered us his gold watch, 
 his horse, saddle, bridle, and 100 guineas, if we would 
 let him go; we told him "no; but he must inform us 
 where he got the papers." He answered us as before, 
 but increased his offer to 1000 guineas, his horse, &c. 
 we told him again we would not let him go, he then 
 said, " gentlemen, I will give you 10,000 guineas and 
 as many dry goods as you will ask, conceal me in any 
 place of safety, while you can send to New- York, with 
 
APPENDIX. 295 
 
 an order to Sir Henry Clinton, from me, and the 
 goods and money will be procured, so that you can get 
 them unmolested." We told him lt no, his offers were 
 in vain, we were Americans, and above corruption, and 
 go with us he must." We then took him about twelve 
 miles to Colonel Jamison s quarters, at North Castle. 
 
 Having had while in Providence the satisfaction of a 
 personal interview with John Howland, Esq. a veteran 
 of the revolution, and shortly after, noticing in the Pro 
 vidence Journal his letter to the Secretary of War, 
 I indulge myself the gratification of presenting my pat 
 rons with the same. The letter is thus introduced by 
 the Editor of the Journal. 
 
 The following letter will be read with deep interest, by 
 every one who feels the least sympathy for the heroes of the 
 Revolution. It details in part the most gloomy campaign 
 during our struggles for independence, while it will enable 
 the historian to record what ought long ago to have been 
 recorded, that at the most gloomy hour oi our Revolution, 
 at the close of 1776, our country was saved, and saved by 
 Rhode-Island valor. The brilliant affairs at Princeton and 
 Trenton, in the depth of winter, were mainly achieved by 
 Col. Lippitt s regiment; and General Washington, at the 
 time acknowledged it ; yet so sparing has the historian been 
 of his praises, that we do not remember that he has conde 
 scended to mention the part the Rhode-Island troops took 
 in those battles. 
 
 But what is still more singular, the few remaining survivors 
 of this regiment, who are in indigent circumstances, have 
 been heretofore denied pensions, under the frivolous pre - 
 tence, (for it is nothing else but pretence) that this regiment 
 did not serve nine months on the continental establishment. 
 It was raised for one year, in January, 1776, and immediate 
 ly went upon duty; yet, it is said, it was not voted into the 
 continental line until May; and as its time of enlistment ex 
 pired on the 18th of January, 77, it lacked a few days of 
 having served nine months, the period which the law con 
 templates, to entitle one to a pension. But what is still 
 
296 APPENDIX. 
 
 more singular 3 it was decided by Mr. Calhoun, when Secre 
 tary of War, as we have understood, that the nine months 
 " at any period of the war, (the words of the law of March, 
 1818, must be construed to mean nine months at one pe 
 riod, under one enlistment, ) thus excluding the voluntary 
 enlistment of this brave regiment for one month, in the 
 depth of the winter of 76 7; also making law, rather 
 than administering it, as it stands in the statute book. 
 Were this voluntary enlistment admitted, this regiment 
 would have served over nine months, at one period, even 
 from May; but without it, it wanted a few days only of 
 that time. But we hope better things of the present Secre 
 tary, though no favorite of ours, who, we understand, has 
 been requested to revise the former decision in regard to this 
 regiment, and to whom a duplicate of the following letter has 
 been sent. 
 
 BENJAMIN COWELL, ESQ. 
 
 De^r Sir: You having requested me to state what is within my 
 knowledge relating to the Regiment commanded by Col. Christo 
 pher Lippitt, in the year 1776, with a view to the right which the 
 few survivors have to claim the aid of the Government for support, 
 during the short period which may yet remain to men so far ad* 
 vanced in life, I will endeavor, as far as I am able, to comply with 
 your request. 
 
 Early in the month of January, J776, the General Assembly of 
 the then colony of Rhode-Island, resolved to raise a Regiment, in 
 addition to those already in service, to serve for the term of one 
 year from the eighteenth day of that month. Colonel H-cnry Bab- 
 cock was appointed to command the Regiment, which was to con 
 sist or be composed of twelve companies. Two or three months 
 after the men were enlisted, Col. Babcock quit the service, and Lt. 
 Col. Lippitt was promoted to the command. The men were soon 
 enlisted, and quartered in Newport. I enlisted in the 7th compa 
 ny, commanded by Captain David Dexter. I was then eighteen 
 years and three months old. The following is a copy of the en 
 listment which we signed; I have just copied it from the Stati- 
 records: 
 
 "I, the subscriber, hereby solemnly engage and enlist myself r; 
 a soldier in the pay of the colony of Rhode-Island, for the preserva 
 tion of the liberties of America, and the defence of the United 
 
APPENDIX. f 297 
 
 Colonies in general, and this colony in particular, from the day of 
 my enlistment for one year, unless the service shall admit of a dis 
 charge sooner, which shall be at the discretion of the General As 
 sembly. And I hereby promise to submit to all orders and regula 
 tions of the army, and faithfully to observe and obey such orders 
 as I shall receive from time to time from my superior officers." 
 
 The officers of the Regiment were at fiist commissioned by the 
 Governor of the colony; they some time after received commissions 
 from the President of Congress, and I have understood that the 
 decision of the War Office, which excluded any of thi.s Regiment 
 from the pension list, was predicated on the circumstance of the of 
 ficers having, during part of the term, been commissioned by the- 
 State. Whatever validity there may have been in this, it could 
 only operate in the cast of a commissioned officer, for all the non 
 commissioned and privates were marched out of the State, and 
 joined the army under General Washington, under the binding 
 force of the articles of the enlistment, which they subscribed on 
 entering the Regiment; and we, from the day of our enlistment, 
 had always supposed that wd were liable to be ordered to join the 
 main army, at any moment when the general good of the whole, 
 or the exigency of the case might render it necessary or expedient 
 and this was sufficiently tested after the disastrous action on Long- 
 Island, when we were ordered to embark from Rhode-Island, and 
 join General Washington at New- York, as we knew from the ten 
 or of the enlistment, we were engaged for the service of the United 
 Colonies, or States 
 
 The Regiment served one complete year, under the enlistment, 
 and engaged voluntarily for another month, under the following 
 circumstances. 
 
 On the 31st day of December, 1776, the remnants of all the di 
 visions, brigades or regiments, which had composed the army of 
 the U. States at the opening of the campaign, together with a com 
 pany of volunteers, from Philadelphia, were assembled at a 
 place called Crosswicks, in Jersey; the term of service of all the 
 Continental troops, except ours, (Lippitt s regiment,) expired on 
 that evening: we, our regiment only, were held for eighteen days 
 more, our year having commenced on the 18th of January, 177G. 
 The brigade to which we were attached, was composed of five 
 regiments, three of which (Yarnum s, Hitchcock s aud Lippitt s.} 
 
298 APPENDIX. 
 
 were from Rhode-Island; and the other two (Nixon s and Little s,) 
 were from Massachusetts. Col. Daniel Hitchcock, the oldtst Co- 
 lonel present, commanded this brigade; of the number of men, 
 Lippitt s counted more than one third. Tins was the time which 
 tried both body and soul. We had by order of the General, left 
 oui tents at ISristol, on the other side of the Delaware. We were 
 st-inding on frozen ground, which was covered with snow. The 
 hope of the Commander in Chief, was sustained by the character 
 of theso half frozen, halt starved men, that he could persuade them 
 to volunteer for another month. He made the attempt, and it suc 
 ceeded. He dhected or requested General Mifflin to address or 
 harangue our biigade he did it well, although he made some 
 promises, perhaps, without the advice of General Washington, 
 which were never fulfilled. Ho said all or every thing which 
 should be taken from the enemy during the month, should be the 
 property of the men, and the value of it divided among them. 
 These promises, although they had no weight or effect in inducing 
 the men to engage, ought to have been fulfilled, though, at the 
 tune they were made, no one could luppose it probable we could 
 take stores or baggage from the enemy, who had six men to our 
 one then in Jersey. The request of the General was assented to, 
 hv our unanimously poising the firelock, as a signal. Within two 
 hours after this vote, we were on our march for Trenton, which 
 place we had loft two days previous. From the badness of the 
 road, the darkness of the night, and accidents to the artillery car 
 riages, or the falling of a horse, t^-c. we consumed the whole night 
 in the march, and quartered in the morning in houses from which the 
 Hessians had been taken the week before. \Vheri we had kindled a 
 fire, and were collecting from our knapsacks or pockets a stray rem- 
 jiant of bread or tainted pork, and thus taking our little share of rest 
 or comfort, the drums beat, and we were immediately paraded. Most 
 of those who have attempted to write a history of the war, have 
 given some, though imperfect accounts of the transactions of this 
 day. Lord Cornwallis was on the inarch from Princeton, with, as 
 it wus said, ten thousand men, to beat up our quarters. Here was 
 the whole armv of the United States, which was supposed to amount 
 to about four thousand men, commanded by His Excellency Gen 
 eral Washington, Miiljin, Sullivan, Greene, Knox, &c. 
 
APPENDIX. 299 
 
 Our troops were posted on the south side of a brook or small riv 
 er, which crosses the town near the south end, and enters the Del 
 aware; a continuation of the Main street crossed this little river over 
 a stone bfidge. It was evidently the purpose of Geneial Wash- 
 ington, to induce Cornwallis to approach and enter the town, at 
 the nonh end, for this purpose, a company of artillery and a pick 
 et was placed on the road leading from Princeton, who were at 
 tacked by the advance of the British. Our brigade was ordered to 
 cross the bridge and march through the main town street, to cover 
 the retreat of the artillery and picket, into and through the north 
 end of the town. This was towards the close of the day. We met 
 them and opened our ranks to let them pass through; we then clos 
 ed in a compact and rather solid column, as the street through 
 which v\e were to retreat to the bridge was narrow, and the Brit 
 ish pressed closely on our rear; part of the enemy pressed into a 
 street, between the Main street and the Delaware, and fired into 
 our right flank, at every space between the houses; when what 
 was no .v our front, arrived near the bridge which we were to pass, 
 and where the lower, or Water-street formed a junction with the 
 Main street, the British made a quick advance in an oblique direc 
 tion to cut us off from the bridge; in this they did not succeed, as 
 we had a shorter distance in a direct line to the bridge than they 
 had, and our artillery, which was posted on the south side of the 
 brook, between the bridge and the Delaware, played into the front 
 and flank of their column, which induced them to fall back; the 
 bridge was narrow, and our platoons were in passing it crowded 
 into a dense and solid mass, in the rear of which, the enemy were ma 
 king their best efforts. The noble horse of Gen. Washington stood 
 with his breast pressed close against the end of the west rail of the 
 bridge, and the firm, composed, and majestic countenance of the 
 General inspired confidence and assurance in a moment so impor 
 tant and critical. In this passage across the bridge, it was my for 
 tune to be next the west rail, and arriving at the end of the biidge 
 rail, I pressed against the shoulder of the General s horse, and in 
 contact with the boot of the General. The horse stood as firm as 
 the rider, and seemed to understand that he was not to quit his poat 
 and station. When I was about halfway across the bridge, the 
 General addressed himself to Col. Hitchcock, the commander of 
 the brigade, directing him to march his men to that field, and form 
 
300 APPENDIX. 
 
 them immediately, or instantly, or as quick as possible; which of 
 the terms he used, 1 am not certain; at the same time extending 
 his arm and pointing to a little meadow, at a little distance, on the 
 south side of the creek or river, and between the road and the Del 
 aware. This order was promptly obeyed, and then we advanced 
 to the edge of the stream, facing the enemy, who soon found it pru 
 dent to fall back under cover of the houses. What passed at the 
 bridge while we were forming as directed, I of course did not wit 
 ness, but understood that as soon as our brigade had passed, the 
 cannon which had been drawn aside, to leave us a passage, were 
 again placed at the end of the bridge and discharged into the front 
 of the enemy s column, which was advancing towards it; at the 
 same time several pieces placed at the right and left of the bridge, 
 with musketry at the intervals, took them partly in flank. They 
 did not succeed in their attempt to cross the bridge, arid although 
 the creek was fordable between the bridge and the Delaware, they 
 declined attempting a passage there, in the face of those, who pre 
 sented a more serious obstruction than the water. 
 
 Night closed upon us, and the weather, which had been mild 
 and pleasant through the day, became intensely cold. On one 
 hour, yes, on forty minutes, commencing at the moment when the 
 British troops first saw the bridge and creek before them, depend 
 ed the all-important, the all-absorbing question, whether we 
 should be Independent States, or conquered rebels! Had the army 
 of Cornwallis within that space have crossed the bridge, or forded 
 the creek, unless a miracle intervened, there would have been an 
 end of the American army. If any fervent mind should doubt 
 this, it must be from his not knowing the state of our few half- 
 starved, half-frozen, feeble, worn out men, with old fowling pie 
 ces for muskets, and half of them without bayonets, and the States 
 so disheartened, discouraged, or poor, that they sent no reinforce 
 ments, no recruits to supply the places of this handful of men, who, 
 but the day before, had volunteered to remain with their venerated 
 and beloved commander, for thirty days more. General Mercer, 
 who led on the Philadelphia volunteers, fell mortally wounded 
 in the beginning of the action. 
 
 The match that night from Trenton to Princeton, is well known. 
 It was not by the direct road ; a considerable part of it was by a 
 new passage, which appeared to have been cut through the woods, 
 
APPENDIX. 301 
 
 as the stubs were left from two to five inches high. We moved 
 slow on account of the artillery, frequently coming to a halt, or 
 stand still, and when ordered forward again, one, two, or three 
 men in each platoon, would stand, with their arms supported, fast 
 asleep ; a platoon next in the rear advancing on them, they, in 
 walking, or attempting to move, would strike a stub and fall. 
 Our proceedings at Princeton, are matters or history, except one 
 circumstance, which has a bearing on the present question and 
 that is, the commander in ckief took the commander of our brig 
 ade by thehand, after the action expressing his high approbation 
 of his conduct, and that of the troops he commanded and wished 
 him to communicate his thanks to his officers and men. 
 
 Besides the prisoners taken at Princeton, there were a number 
 of wagons loaded with the army baggage. I suppose it was about 
 noon when we left Princeton with the prize goods and prisoners ; 
 we marched quick, as the advance guard of the British army 
 whom we had left the night before at Trenton, were said to be 
 close in our rear, following us as they supposed to Brunswick, the 
 head quarters of General Howe, but in three or four miles, we 
 turned a square corner and proceeded north, towards Somerset 
 Court-House. The British continued on to Brunswick. Ten or 
 eleven o clock at night, we arrived at the Court-House, in which 
 the prisoners were shut up. It will be remembered this was the 
 third night s march, and under arms or marching all day. There 
 were barely houses sufficient for the quarters of the Generals and 
 their attendants. The troops took up their abode for the rest of 
 the night, on the frozen ground. All the fences and every thing 
 that would burn, was piled in different heaps and burnt, and he 
 was the most furtunate who could get nigh enough to srael! the 
 fire or smoke. The next day, we continued our march towards 
 Morristown. About the third day after our arrival at Morrigtown, 
 the commander of our brigade, Col. Daniel Hitchcock, died, fiom 
 the sufferings he had experienced in this dreadful campaign. He 
 was a very accomplished gentleman, and a fine officer ; few of 
 the Generals exceeded or equalled him in talents; he was educa 
 ted at Yale. After this, the brigade was broken up. The re 
 giments which had comprised it, being sent to different stations, 
 near the enemy s lines. Our regiment, Lippitt s, had our head 
 quarters at a place called Chatham, detachments being continu- 
 26 
 
302 APPENDIX. 
 
 ally on duty in the neighborhood of the British lines at Brunswick. 
 At length we were discharged in the month of February, by de 
 tachments or small guards, as it was said we could better find lodg 
 ings or shelter for a night on the road. Our paper money wages, 
 forty shillings the month, was never paid fully, and we received 
 nothing to bear our expenses home. 
 
 " Some had to beg their bread 
 Through realms their valor saved." 
 
 I ought to have mentioned in the beginning of this desultory 
 narrative, that the men had no bounty, when they enlisted, and 
 were not furnished with any clothes ; we found our own clothes, 
 and we had the promise of forty shillings per month, but, as an 
 outfit, we had two months pay in advance. This will account for 
 the fact, that many of our men long before the close of this sei- 
 vice, whose shoes were worn out, repaired to the butcher s yard, 
 and cut out a piece of raw hide, which they laced, with strips of 
 the same skin, about their feet. This, when the weather was 
 moist, was not so utterly bad ; but I recollect as soon as my moc 
 casins became frozen, they chafed my toes till they bled. On the 
 next day s march, I left the quarter guard ; as we were passing a 
 Dutchman s house, the good man had gone to the barn; I propos 
 ed to his wife to buy an old pair of shoes, which I saw at the 
 head of a bed; she said her husband would not sell his shoes; I 
 showed her the situation of my feet, and offered in haste, what 
 ought to have been the price of a new pair ; she took the money 
 and I carried off the shoes. She may have been induced to close 
 the bargain, from an apprehension, that I would take them at all 
 events, though I hope this did not influence her decision. 
 
 In mentioning the vote taken at Croswick s, to serve another 
 month, I ought to have stated a circumstance, which rendered this 
 act of the Rhode Island troops more of a patriotic character, than 
 that of the other troops, composing the line of the army. 
 
 December 6, 1776, General Clinton arid Lord Percy, with a Brit 
 ish army, landed and took possession of the island of Rhode- 
 Island. This news was brought to our regiment, the day vre 
 crossed the Delaware, at Easton, after General Lee was taken 
 from us on our passage from Hudson river, through Jersey west 
 ward. This news from Rhode-Island more seriously affected 
 Lippitt s regiment than any other. This corps was not composed 
 of such materials as generally compose a standing army. We 
 were mostly young men, who had left parents or near connections 
 at home. The most of two companies, Carr s and Brownell s, 
 were natives of the Island, and ihose who were from the main 
 land were in doubt and uncertainty, whether the towns up the riv 
 er, or indeed the whole State was not possessed, or been devastated 
 by the enemy. This was reason sufficient, without taking into the 
 account the sufferings of tbe season, for us to wish to return home, 
 to search for, or know the fate of the nearest connections ; and 
 
APPENDIX. 303 
 
 this too, will furnish an apology for the State to which we belong 
 ed, for riot sending us any partial supplies of clothing, and espe 
 cially of shoes, before our discharge, as a third part of the State 
 was in possession of the enemy, and exertions weie tken mak 
 ing, to raise and equip three regiments of troops, for the de 
 fence of the lemainder. Under all these disadvantages, when 
 our time of service had expired, the State sent an agent, Mr. 
 J. J. Hazard, with a quantity of shoes, for those he should 
 meet, who were barefooted. We met him at Peekskill, and 
 there he presented me with a new pair, and there I left what 
 remained of those I bought of the Dutch woman ; and with 
 the new ones, after being detained in that neighborhood three 
 weeks by sickness, I travelled home to Providence. 
 
 To return to the subject of the pension list. I know of not 
 more than six or seven now living, who have aeked to be plac 
 ed on the list. Poor, infirm old men who in the prime of their 
 youth, by the side of Washington, defended the pass at Tren 
 ton bridge, and made these what they now are, independent 
 States. And why are they excluded ? because the Secretary at 
 war, Mr. Calhoun, thought they had not been nine months in the 
 service of the United States. Is it possible? Can it be possible ? 
 
 JOHN ROWLAND. 
 
 PROVIDENCE, NOVEMBER 24, 1830. 
 
 Notices of some of tJte officers of Lippittfs Regiment, 
 after the same was disbanded. 
 
 After Col. Lippitt returned home he was appointed Major Gen. 
 of the Militia of the State. 
 
 The Lt. Col. Adam Comstock, settled at the close of the 
 war, in Saratoga, and was a member of the Legislature, and 
 one of the council, with the first Gov. Clinton of New-York. 
 
 Capt. William Jones^ of this Regiment was in 1811 elected 
 Governor of this State, in which he served five or six years. 
 
 Capt. Martin was Lt. Governor. 
 
 Capt. Hoppin was Colonel of the senior class of militia of the 
 county, and several years one of the Representatives of the 
 Town of Providence in the General Assembly. 
 
 Lt. Sayles was for a number of years a member of the House 
 of Representatives. 
 
 Philip Martin who entered as a Sergeant in this Regiment and 
 was promoted to the office of Ensign, and carried the colors of 
 the Regiment, in the action at Princeton, was at the time of 
 his death a State Senator. 
 
 Ensign Thomas Noyes, of Capt. Stanton s company, was for 
 many years a Representative from the town of Westerly, and 
 was one of the electors of President and Vice-President of the 
 United States. 
 
 Benjamin Bourne, the Quartermaster, was a member of the 
 State Convention, which adopted the constitution, and was the 
 first Representative in Congress chosen by the State under the 
 new government; he was afterwards ono of the three Judges of 
 the Eastern Circuit of the United States. 
 
304 APPENDIX. 
 
 GENERAL BARTON. 
 
 As my visit and business in Providence were calcu 
 lated to bring up again to view some of the more inter 
 esting events of the Revolution, General Barton, who 
 captured the British General, Prescott, was several 
 times named to me. 1 was anxious to have the honor 
 and gratification of a personal interview with the vener 
 able patriot. With this favor I was indulged; but it 
 was a striking admonition to me. His mental powers 
 were much depreciated, and the good old gentleman 
 was apprised of the fact. He could recollect with some 
 precision the events of former years; but recent events 
 were obliterated from his mind. A fow more rolling 
 suns, and the last grave of an actor in the war of the 
 revolution, will have closed. 
 
 The following particulars of the capture of General 
 Prescott, by General (then Col. Barton) I have extract 
 ed from a small volume recently published, entitled 
 " Tales, National and Revolutionary. By Mrs. C. R. 
 Williams." 
 
 THE capture of Gen. Prescott was not that rash and* 
 headlong adventure (though an exploit sufficiently haz 
 ardous) that some attempted to make it appear. It was 
 planned and executed with consummate prudence, arid 
 had been for some time the subject of reflection and 
 calculation in the mind of Col. Barton. It may be rec 
 ollected that Gen. Lee had been captured by surprise in 
 the preceding November, at Baskinbridge, in New- 
 Jersey, by Col. Harcourt, who learning he was lodged 
 in a remote country house, while he was scouring the 
 country with his cavalry, appeared suddenly before him, 
 and securing the sentinels, mounted him on a swift 
 horse, and conveyed him to New-York. There was no- 
 one in the country who felt more on this occasion than 
 Col. Barton, and from the moment that the circumstance 
 was made known to him, he resolved, if ever an oppor 
 tunity offered, to surprise some Major-General of the 
 British army, in order to procure his release. That 
 opportunity offered: In the month of June, 1777, a Mr. 
 Coffin made his escape from the enemy on Rhode-Island, 
 and was brought to his quarters. From this person he 
 
APPENDIX, 305 
 
 learnt that the General was quartered at the house of a 
 Mr. Overing, on the west side of the Island, describing 
 it particularly. He was followed by a deserter the next 
 day, who gave the same intelligence. 
 
 The troops stationed at Tiverton were not inured to 
 service, nor Col. Barton either; and this circumstance 
 alone caused him to debate a few days before he com 
 municated the project of surprising Gen. Prescott, to 
 any one. He first communicated it to Col. Stanton, 
 and received his advice and ready concurrence. He 
 then selected several officers, whose ability and secrecy 
 he judged from personal acquaintance he could confide 
 in, and asked them if they were willing to go with him 
 on an enterprise, the particular object of which he could 
 not then inform them of. They all consented, at once. 
 Their names and rank were as follow: Ebenezer Adame, 
 Captain of artillery; Samuel Phillips, Captain; James 
 Potter, Lieutenant; Joshua Babcock, Lieutenant; An 
 drew Stanton, Ensign; and John Willcox. 
 
 The next step to be taken was to procure boats, a 
 thing attended with some difficulty, as there were but 
 two at the station. However, in a few days they ob 
 tained five whale boats, and had them fitted in the beet 
 possible manner. All was now ready except the men, 
 who had not been en-gaged, for fear it would create sus 
 picion. As Col. Barton wished to have them all vol 
 unteers, the regiment was ordered to be paraded. He 
 then addressed them, telling them he was about under 
 taking an enterprise against the enemy, and wished to 
 have forty volunteers; desiring those who were willing 
 to risk their lives with him, to advance two paces in 
 front. At this the whole regiment advanced. After 
 thanking them for their willingness, he selected forty, 
 whom he knew understood rowing, and upon whom he 
 might depend. With this company they embarked for 
 Bristol first, on the fourth of July; but a heavy storm of 
 thunder and rain, when they got into Mount Hope Bay, 
 obliged them to separate, and Col. Barton lost sight of 
 all the boats but one; those two kept together and ar 
 rived at Bristol at ten o clock at night on the fifth, thus 
 being two days in crossing the ferry. Proceeding to 
 the commanding officer s quarters, he there found ano- 
 
306 APPENDIX. 
 
 ther deserter from the British camp, who gave him con 
 siderable misinformation upon being questioned. How 
 ever, at eight o clock the other boats arrived, and the Col. 
 took the officers with him to Hog Island, from which they 
 had a distinct view of the British encampment and ship 
 ping, and there he first unfolded his plan to them. They 
 appeared surprised, but after his telling them the situa 
 tion of the house where Gen. Prescott lodged, and the 
 part he wished ea^ch to act in the intended enterprise, 
 they consented, and promised not to give the least hint 
 of it. They then returned to Bristol, and staid until 
 about nine at night of the sixth, when they re-embarked 
 and crossed over to Warwick Neck, from whence they 
 meant to take their departure for the Island. On the 
 seventh, the wind changed to the E. N. E. and brought 
 on a storm, some obstacles intervened on the eighth and 
 they did not take their departure until nine o clock on 
 the ninth. 
 
 Before the departure of the boats, the Colonel number 
 ed them all, and appointed each his place. To every 
 boat, there was one commissioned officer, exclusive of 
 Col. Barton. The party consisted of forty-one men, of 
 ficers inclu ded. Before their departure, the Colonel 
 collected them in a circle and addressed them, acquaint 
 ed them with the object of the enterprise, and the hazard 
 attending it, and pledging them to take the lead and 
 share every danger, whatever it might be, equally with 
 his soldieis, entreating them to preserve the strictest or 
 der, and not to have the least idea of plunder; to pre 
 serve profound silence, and ordering them, if any had 
 been so imprudent as to furnish himself with any spirit 
 uous liquors, to leave it. After commending them to 
 the great Disposer of events, they proceeded to the 
 shore. 
 
 The commanding officer at Warwick Neck was di 
 rected to keep a sharp look out, and if he should hear 
 the report of three distinct muskets, to come on to the 
 north end of Prudence to take them off; for they had 
 reasons to fear the British men of war might send their 
 boats out, and cut them off from the main. 
 
 In the forward boat Col. Barton posted himself with a 
 pole ten feet long and a handkerchief tied to the end of 
 
APPENDIX. 307 
 
 it, so that his boat might bo known from the others, and 
 that none might go before it. They went between the 
 Islands of Prudence and Patience, in order that the 
 shipping which lay against Hope Island, might not dis 
 cover them, and rowed under the west side of Prudence 
 till they carne to the south end, when they heard the 
 enemy on board their ships cry out "All s well." 
 When they were within about three quarters of a mile 
 of Rhode-Island, they heard a great noise like the run 
 ning of horses. This threw a consternation over the 
 whole party; but none spoke. They slackened fora 
 moment, but the Colonel concluding it was only the ac 
 cidental running of horses, as they often do when let 
 loose, concluded to push on and soon gained the shore 
 There was then a man left to each boat to keep 
 them ready for a push, for fear the enemy might try to 
 impede their retreat. The party were then marched in 
 five divisions to the house, which was just one mile from 
 the shore, preserving the strictest silence. 
 
 The entrance to the house where Gen. Prescott had 
 taken his quarters, was by three doors, on the south, 
 east and west; three of the five divisions were to attack 
 each a door. The fourth to guard the road, the fifth to 
 act on emergencies. They left the guard house on the 
 left; on the right was a house where a party of light 
 horse were quartered in order to carry orders from Gen. 
 Prestcott, to any part of the Island. When they open 
 ed the gate of the front yard, the sentinel who stood 
 about twenty-five yards from them, hailed " who comes 
 there?" They gave no answer, but continued marching 
 on. There being a row of trees between them, he could 
 not so well distinguish their number. He again hailed, 
 and they answered "friends." "Advance and give 
 the countersign." To which Gen. Barton answered, as 
 in a great passion, " We have no countersign, but have 
 you seen any deserters to night?" This had been con 
 trived as a decoy, and it had the effect, for before he 
 suspected them to be enemies, they had seized his mus 
 ket and made him prisoner, telling him if he made the 
 least noise, he should be put to death. They asked him 
 " if Gen. Prescott was in the house?" He was so 
 frightened at first he could not speak; but at length, wa- 
 
308 APPENDIX. 
 
 ving his hand towards the house, he said "yes." By 
 this time each division had got its station, and the doors 
 were burst in. They first went into the chamber of Mr. 
 Overing, the General was not there; then into the 
 one Mr. Overing s son lodged in; he said the General 
 was not there. Col. Barton then went to the head 
 of the stairs, and called to the soldiers with 
 out u to set the house on fire, as he was determined to 
 have Gen. Prescott, either dead or alive." On this 
 they heard a voice below calling " What is the matter?" 
 Col. Barton entered the room below from whence it 
 came, and saw a man just rising out of bed, and clap 
 ping him on the shoulder asked him if he was Gen. 
 Prescott? He answered "Yes, Sir!" The Colonel then 
 told him he was his prisoner: he rejoined, " I acknowl 
 edge it, Sir." The Colonel then desired him to hurry. 
 He requested leave to put on his clothes; the Colonel 
 told him "a very few, for their business required haste." 
 In the mean time, Major Barrington, the General s aid- 
 de-camp, finding the house \vas attacked, leaped out of 
 the window, and was immediately made prisoner. Af 
 ter the General had got on a few clothes, they marched 
 away for the shore. In order to make the General 
 keep up with them, Col. Barton made him put one arm 
 over his shoulder and another over another officer s, and 
 in this manner with Major Barrington and the sentinel 
 in the middle of the party, they arrived at the boats, 
 where they put the General s coat on him and seated 
 him in No. 1. The General seeing the five small boats 
 and knowing where the shipping lay, appeared much 
 confused, and asked Col. Barton if he commanded the 
 party? Upon being answered in the affirmative he said, 
 "/ hope you will not hurt me." Col. Barton assured 
 him " while in his power he should not be injured." 
 
 After they had got a short distance from the shore, 
 they heard the alarm, three cannons, and saw three sky 
 rockets. It was fortunate for them that the enemy on 
 board the shipping could not know the occasion of it, as 
 they might with ease have cut off their communication 
 with the main.* 
 
 *lt has been erroneously stated tliat the party of light horse fta- 
 tioned at some distance from the house, rushed down upon them, 
 just as they pushed from the shore. 
 
APPENDIX. 309 
 
 They rowed at no small rate, for upon landing at 
 Warwick Neck at day-light, the place from whence they 
 started, they discovered they had been gone from there 
 but just six hours and a half. The General as he land 
 ed turned to Col. Barton and said, " Sir, you have made 
 a d - d bold push to night." Me replied l we have 
 been fortunate." The General and his aid were then 
 permitted to retire for rest, while Col. Barton sent to 
 Warwick town for a horse and chaise and orders for the 
 best breakfast that could be procured. An express was 
 then sent to Major Gen Spencer, at Providence, who 
 immediately sent a coach to conduct the General prison 
 er to Providence.! 
 
 Address to Sailors, especially to those of the American 
 
 Navy. 
 
 " What meaneit thou, sleeper! Arise, call upon thy God." 
 When I commenced the preceding Memoirs, (more 
 than two years ago,) I had the impression that if I 
 should succeed in getting them printed, some of the 
 copies might fall into your hands; and designed to cloc O 
 my narrative with an address to you; humbly beseeching 
 that God whose mercy has abounded towards me, one 
 of the chief of sinners, and who has given me a hope of 
 eternal life through Jesus Christ, that he would also 
 bless my feeble efforts to the promotion of your spiritu 
 al good. Should you be disposed to read my narrative, 
 you willl discover that I have had some personal ac 
 quaintance with the maxims and habits of sailors in the 
 American and British navies, both on board privateers 
 and in the merchants service. My early attachment to 
 sailors yet remains. I know that they are patriotic, brave 
 and generous almost to a fault; and it may with propriety 
 be said that they defy danger. Their peculiar situation al 
 most precludes them from the privileges of religious 
 society. The time has been when it might be said of 
 us, that * no man cared for our souls;" and it is a mel- 
 
 tGen Prescott was afterwards exchanged for Gen. Lee. There 
 \vau certainly no parallel between the two captures ot the two 
 Generals; as Lee was quartered full twenty miles from his army, 
 with only a handful of attendants near him. Prescott in sight of 
 A body of light horse and io view of his shipping. 
 
310 APPENDIX. 
 
 ancholy truth, that we have been regardless of their sal 
 vation ourselves. It is a fact, many of us have been so 
 notoriously wicked as to insult the great Captain of sal 
 vation, by challenging him to destroy our souls. With 
 shame I confess that I have been thus vile, and yet God 
 has spared me even unto old age. Where sin abound 
 ed, grace hath much more abounded, through the 
 blood of Jesus Christ, and not to me only, but to many 
 other sailors of my acquaintance. " There is forgiveness 
 with him," even for sailors, -that he may be feared." 
 
 There has been a material change in society within 
 the last thiriy years. There are now many, very many, 
 who pray for the salvation of sailors, both in .Europe 
 and America. Bible societies have done much; the 
 bethel flag has been unfurled in the principal ports of 
 England and America. 
 
 Many tracts have been written to attract your at 
 tention, improve your morals and excite in you a pro 
 per concern for the salvation of your soul s. The au 
 thors of those tracts, whether converted seamen or pious 
 landsmen, that they might more readily excite your at 
 tention, have illustrated important truths, in term phra 
 ses, familiar to sailors. 
 
 1 cansot feel less interested in your welfare than oth 
 ers. Permit me then to remind you, that the period can 
 not be far remote when your " dust must return to the 
 earth as it was, and your spirits must return to God who 
 gave them." Unless you are " born again, you cannot 
 see the kingdom of God." I beseech you not to trifle 
 with these important truths. You are exposed to un 
 healthy climates, the perils of the sea and dangers of 
 battle. 
 
 " The living know that they shall die," saith Solo 
 mon. Eccl. ix. 5. And we are told by Paul, that " it is 
 appointed for men once to die, and after death the 
 judgment." Heb. ix. 27. "For we shall all stand be 
 fore the judgment seat of Christ." Horn. xiv. 10. 
 " The ungodly shall not stand in the judgment, nor sin 
 ners in the congregation of the righteous." Ps. i. 5. 
 
 Inasmuch, then, as we must all die and come to judg 
 ment, is it not useless to insult the Judge? Useless did 
 I say? it is presumptuous, it is criminal. Could sailors 
 
APPENDIX. 311 
 
 expect their officers to bear with them if they should 
 treat them with such insolence as they frequently man 
 ifest towards Almighty God, who has expressly told us 
 in the third commandment, "the Lord will not hold him 
 guiltless that taketh his name in vain." 
 
 Intemperance is another vice, to which many sailors 
 are addicted. The consequence is frequently immedi 
 ate death, usually the loss of character and health, often 
 of the vessel and crew. The practice of the various vi 
 ces which prevail among sailors, " drown them in des 
 truction and perdition." 1 Tim. vi. 9. The scriptures 
 declare that " no unclean person hath any inheritance 
 in the kingdom of Christ and of God." 
 
 Shipmates, we must become subjects of the kingdom, 
 or we shall never fetch the port of eternal safety, and let 
 go our anchors within the vail, that is the holy place or 
 heaven. The voyage cannot be made in any other vessel 
 than the ark of safety, which is Jesus Christ. Brother 
 sailors, will you not endeavor to get a birth on board this 
 vessel, which will ensure you a safe passage to heaven 
 and eternal felicity. You have run large or before the 
 wind quite too long already. You cannot weather the 
 cape of good hope, without beating against wind and tide, 
 or in other words, without repentance toward God, and 
 faith in our Lord Jesus Christ. 
 
 Bear a hand then, my good fellows, and stand by to 
 about ship. Repentance, my brethren, is like beating 
 against wind and tide. It must be exercised with a hum 
 ble reliance on the merits of Jesus, resisting the world, 
 the flesh and the devil. 
 
 And a hundred to one, but you will make some lee 
 way after all; but if you mind well your compass the 
 Bible, and keep a good look out and a good helm, you 
 will shortly have both wind and tide in your favor. 
 
 Brethren, both officers and sailors, permit me to re 
 commend to you the Bible, because it is the word of 
 God. Read it frequently, and pray to God that he 
 will give you an understanding. Remember that in the 
 New Testament, God speaks to us by his Son Jesus 
 Christ. In it he testifies unto us that " By one man sin 
 entered into the world, and death by sin, and so death 
 hath passed upon all men, for that all have sinned and 
 come short of the glory of God." 
 
312 APPENDIX. 
 
 My brethren, we are all by nature the children of 
 wrath, condemned already, and the wrath of God abideth 
 upon all who are yet in unbelief. We must be born a- 
 gain, that is, we must have a new heart. Jesus came 
 into the world to seek and to save that which was lost: 
 that we may be saved, he has told us to repent and be 
 lieve the gospel, and that except we repent we shall per 
 ish. You must deny yourselves, and take up the cross. 
 You must restrain your tongues; you must restrain your 
 passions. Hear a word from the Apostle James, my 
 brethren. 
 
 "Behold also the ships, which though they be so great, 
 and are driven of fierce winds, yet they are turned by a 
 very small helm, whithersoever the governor listeth. 
 Even so the tongue is a little member, and boasteth 
 great things. Behold how great a matter a little fire 
 kindleth. And the tongue is a fire, a world of iniquity, 
 so is the tongue among our members, that it defileth the 
 whole body, and setteth on fire the course of nature, and 
 is set on fire of hell. The tongue can no man tame, it 
 is an unruly evil, full of deadly poison; therewith bless 
 we God, even the Father, and therewith curse we men 
 who are made after the similitude of God; out of the 
 same mouth proceedeth blessing and cursing. My breth 
 ren, these things ought not so to be." 
 
 I venture to say, brethren, if you properly restrain 
 your tongues, you will not find it very difficult to restrain 
 the wicked propensities of the heart. Will you not read 
 those various little tracts which are sent you? Will you 
 not remember the Sabbath day, and whenever the Beth 
 el flag is displayed, will you not go and endeavor to get 
 your shipmates to go where prayer is wont to be made? 
 Will you not improve all the opportunities you have, to 
 hear the gospel preached, and look unto God by prayer 
 and supplication with thanksgiving? Remember that 
 Jesus has told us, ft If ye who are evil, know how to give 
 good gifts to your children, how much more will your 
 heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them who ask 
 him?" May God graciously grant that you be no more 
 strangers and foreigners, but fellow citizens with the saints 
 and of the household of God. So prays your shipmate, 
 ANDREW SHERBURNE. 
 
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