To Elliott Cresson, of Philadelphia, the enthusiastic and veteran champion of the colonization cause, Mr. Lawrence writes, June 12, 1851:
"My dear old Friend Cresson: I have just re-read your kind letter of June 2, and have been feasting upon the treasure you sent me in the interesting volume entitled 'Africa Redeemed.' I will set your heart at rest at once by assuring you that I feel just as you do towards that land. Do you remember visiting me, a dozen or more years ago, to get me to lead off with a thousand-dollar subscription for colonization, and my refusing by assuring you that I would not interfere with the burden of slavery, then pressing on our own Slave States, until requested by them? * * * * Liberia, in the mean time, has gone on, and now promises to be to the black man what New England has been to the Pilgrims, and Pennsylvania to the Friends. I say, with all my heart, to Gov. Roberts and his associates, God speed you, and carry onward and upward the glorious work of redeeming Africa! I had a charming message from a young missionary in Africa a few days since,—the Rev. Mr. Hoffman, of the Episcopal Mission; and you will be glad to hear that the good work of education for Liberia progresses surely and steadily here. My son A. is one of the trustees and directors (Prof. Greenleaf is president), and has given a thousand dollars from 'a young merchant;' and I bid him give another thousand from 'an old merchant,' which he will do as soon as he returns from our old home with his family. Now I say to you, my friend, I can sympathize and work with you while I am spared. God be praised! we are greatly favored in many things. No period of my life has been more joyous.
With constant affection, I am yours,
"Amos Lawrence.
Among other memoranda of the present month is found a cancelled note of five hundred dollars, which had been given by a clergyman in another State to a corporation, which, by reason of various misfortunes, he had not been able to pay. Mr. Lawrence had heard of the circumstance, and, without the knowledge of the clergyman, had sent the required sum to the treasurer of the corporation, with directions to cancel the obligation.
(TO LADY BUXTON.)
"Boston, July 8, 1851.
"Dear Lady Buxton: Your letter, and the beautiful copy of the memoir of your revered and world-wide honored husband, reached me on the 26th of June. I have read and re-read your heart-touching note with an interest you can understand better than I can describe. I can say that I thank you, and leave you to imagine the rest. Sir Fowell was born the same year, and in the same month, that I was; and his character and his labors I have been well acquainted with since he came into public life; and no man of his time stood higher in my confidence and respect. Although I have never been in public life, I have been much interested in public men; and have sometimes had my confidence abused, but have generally given it to men who said what they meant, and did what they said. I feel no respect for the demagogue, however successful he may be; but am able to say, with the dear and honored friend whose mantle fell upon Sir Fowell, 'What shadows we are, and what shadows we pursue!' I feel pity for the man who sacrifices his hopes of heaven for such vain objects as end in the mere gaze of this world. The 'Study for Young Men,' republished here a short time since, is doing such work among us as must cheer the spirit of your husband in his heavenly home.
"I enclose you a note from Laura Bridgman, a deaf, dumb, and blind girl, who has been educated at our asylum for the last twelve years or more (now about twenty-two years old), which may interest you from the fact of her extraordinary situation.
"With great respect, I remain most truly yours,
"Amos Lawrence."
(TO A LADY IN PHILADELPHIA.)
"Dear L.: Your call on me to 'pay up' makes me feel that I had forgotten, and therefore neglected, my promise. I begin without preface. When a child, and all the way up to fifty years of age, the incidents of revolutionary history were so often talked over by the old soldiers who made our house their rendezvous whenever they came near it, that I feel as if I had been an actor in the scenes described. Among these, the Battle of Bunker Hill was more strongly impressed upon my mind than any other event. My father, then twenty-one years old, was in Captain Farwell's company, a subaltern, full of the right spirit, as you may know, having some sparks left when you used to ride on his sled and in his wagon, and eat his 'rattle apples,' which were coveted by all the children. He was in the breastwork; and his captain was shot through the body just before or just after Pitcairn was shot. My father did not know Major Pitcairn personally, but understood it was he who mounted the breastwork, calling to his soldiers to follow, when he pitched into the slight trench outside, riddled and dead, as my father always thought as long as he lived. But it turned out otherwise. He was brought from the field, and lodged in a house in Prince-street, now standing (the third from Charlestown Bridge); and the intelligence was immediately communicated to the Governor, then in the Royal House, now called the Province House. He sent Dr. Kast and an officer, accompanied by young Bowdoin as an amateur, to see to the major, and report. On entering the chamber, the doctor wished to examine the wound; but Pitcairn declined allowing him, saying it was of no use, as he should soon die. When pressed by the argument that his excellency desired it, he allowed Dr. Kast to open his vest, and the blood, which had been stanched, spirted out upon the floor; so that the room carried the mark, and was called 'Pitcairn's Chamber' until long after the peace. The doctor returned immediately to the Governor to report; and, before he could get back, life had fled. He was laid out in his regimentals, and was deposited in the vault of St. George's Church, now the Stone Chapel, and there remained until 1788, when Dr. Winship, of Roxbury, then on a visit to London, had occasion to call on Dr. C. Letsom, and informed him that he had in his possession the key of the vault; that he had examined the body, which was in so good a state of preservation, that he recognized the features; and that he had counted at least thirty marks of musket-balls in various parts of the body. An arrangement was made, through Dr. Winship, for the removal of the body to England. Dr. William Pitcairn built a vault in the Burying-ground of St. Bartholomew, near the hospital, for its reception. Capt. James Scott, the commander of a trading vessel between Boston and London at that period, undertook the service of removal, although he foresaw difficulty in undertaking the business, on account of the strong prejudice of sailors to having a corpse on board. With a view to concealment, the coffin was enclosed in a square deal case, containing the church-organ, which was to be sent to England for repairs. This case, with 'Organ' inscribed upon it, was placed, as it was said, for better security, in a part of the ship near the sailors' berths, and in that situation was used occasionally during the passage for their seat or table. On arrival of the ship in the river, an order was obtained for the landing of the case; and, as it was necessary to describe its contents, the order expressed permission to land a corpse. This revealed the stratagem of Capt. Scott, and raised such a feeling among the sailors as to show that they would not have been quiet had they known the truth respecting their fellow-lodger. Major Pitcairn was the only British officer particularly regarded by our citizens, as ready to listen to their complaints, and, as far as in his power, to relieve them, when not impeded by his military duties. Our excellent old friend B. will be interested in the 'Stone Chapel' part of this story, and probably can add particulars that I may have omitted.
"Your affectionate
Amos Lawrence."
[CHAPTER XXXV.]
LETTERS—REV. DR. SCORESBY.—WABASH COLLEGE.
After receiving a note from a relative of Lady Colebrooke, announcing her death, at Dunscombe, in the island of Barbadoes, Mr. Lawrence wrote the following note of sympathy to her husband, Sir William Colebrooke, then Governor of that island. She will be remembered as the lady who had formerly visited Boston, and who was alluded to in one of his letters, as a niece of Major André: