I remained in the employ of the Princess about three months, and then in consequence of a misunderstanding with the overseer, I hired myself to a farmer in a small village adjoining Brintford, where I had not been three weeks employed before rumour was afloat that I was a Yankee Prisoner of war! from whence the report arose, or by what occasioned, I never could learn—it no sooner reached the ears of the soldiers, than they were on the alert, seeking an opportunity to seize my person—fortunately I was appraised of their intentions before they had time to carry them into effect; I was however hard pushed, and sought for by them with that diligence and perseverance that certainly deserved a better cause—I had many hair breadth escapes, and most assuredly should have been taken, had it not been for the friendship of those whom I suspect felt not less friendly to the cause of my country, but dare not publicly avow it—I was at one time traced by the soldiers in pursuit of me to the house of one of this description, in whose garret I was concealed, and was at that moment in bed; they entered and enquired for me, and on being told that I was not in the house, they insisted on searching, and were in the act of ascending the chamber stairs for that purpose, when seizing my cloathes, I passed up through the scuttle, and reached the roof of the house, and from thence half naked passed to those of the adjoining ones to the number of ten or twelve, and succeeded in making my escape without being discovered.
Being continually harassed by night and day by the soldiers, and driven from place to place, without an opportunity to perform a day’s work, I was advised by one whose sincerity I could not doubt, to apply for a berth as a labourer in a garden of his Royal Majesty, situated in the village of Quew, a few miles from Brintford; where, under the protection of his Majesty, it was represented to me that I should be perfectly safe, as the soldiers dare not approach the royal premises, to molest any one therein employed—he was indeed so friendly as to introduce me personally to the overseer, as an acquaintance who possessed a perfect knowledge of gardening, but from whom he carefully concealed the fact of my being an American born, and of the suspicion entertained by some of my being a prisoner of war, who had escaped the vigilance of my keepers.
The overseer concluded to receive me on trial;—it was here that I had not only frequent opportunities to see his Royal Majesty in person, in his frequent resorts to this, one of his country retreats, but once had the honour of being addressed by him. The fact was, that I had not been one week employed in the garden, before the suspicion of my being either a prisoner of war, or a Spy, in the employ of the American Rebels, was communicated, not only to the overseer and other persons employed in the garden, but even to the King himself! As I was one day busily engaged with three others in gravelling a walk, I was unexpectedly accosted by his Majesty: who, with much apparent good nature, enquired of me of what country I was—“an American born, may it please your Majesty,” was my reply (taking off my hat, which he requested me instantly to replace on my head),—“ah! (continued he with a smile) an American, a stubborn, a very stubborn people indeed!—and what brought you to this country, and how long have you been here?” “the fate of war, your Majesty—I was brought to this country a prisoner about eleven months since,”—and thinking this a favourable opportunity to acquaint him with a few of my grievances, I briefly stated to him how much I had been harassed by the soldiers—“while here employed they will not trouble you,” was the only reply he made, and passed on. The familiar manner in which I had been interrogated by his Majesty, had I must confess a tendency in some degree to prepossess me in his favour—I at least suspected him to possess a disposition less tyrannical, and capable of better view than what had been imputed to him; and as I had frequently heard it represented in America, that uninfluenced by such of his ministers, as unwisely disregarded the reiterated complaints of the American people, he would have been foremost to have redressed their grievances, of which they so justly complained.
I continued in the service of his Majesty’s gardner at Quew, about four months, when the season having arrived in which the work of the garden required less labourers I with three others was discharged; and the day after engaged myself for a few months, to a farmer in the town and neighbourhood where I had been last employed—but, not one week had expired before the old story of my being an American prisoner of war &c. was revived and industriously circulated, and the soldiers (eager to obtain the proffered bounty) like a pack of blood-hounds were again on the track seeking an opportunity to surprise me—the house wherein I had taken up my abode, was several times thoroughly searched by them, but I was always so fortunate as to discover their approach in season to make good my escape by the assistance of a friend—to so much inconvenience however did this continual apprehension and fear subject me, that I was finally half resolved to surrender myself a prisoner to some of his Majesty’s officers, and submit to my fate, whatever it might be, when by an unexpected occurrence, and the seasonable interposition of providence in my favour, I was induced to change my resolution.
I had been strongly of the opinion by what I had myself experienced, that America was not without her friends in England, and those who were her well wishers in the important cause in which she was at that moment engaged; an opinion which I think no one will disagree with me in saying, was somewhat confirmed, by a circumstance of that importance, as entitles it to a conspicuous place in my narrative. At a moment when driven almost to a state of despondency by continual alarms and fears of falling into the hands of a set of desperadoes, who for a very small reward would willingly have undertaken the commission of almost any crime; I received a message from a gentleman of respectability of Brintford (J. Woodcock Esq.) requesting me to repair immediately to his house—the invitation I was disposed to pay but little attention to, as I viewed it nothing more than a plan of my pursuers to decoy and entrap me—but, on learning from my confidential friend that the gentleman by whom the message had been sent, was one whose loyalty had been doubted, I was induced to comply with the request.
I reached the house of ’Squire Woodcock about 8 o’clock in the evening, and after receiving from him at the door assurances that I might enter without fear or apprehension of any design on his part against me, I suffered myself to be introduced into a private chamber, where were seated two other gentlemen, who appeared to be persons of no mean rank, and proved to be no other than Horne Tooke and James Bridges Esquires—as all three of these gentlemen have long since paid the debt of nature, and are placed beyond the reach of such as might be disposed to persecute or reproach them for their disloyalty, I can now with perfect safety disclose their names—names which ought to be dear to every true American.
After having (by their particular request) furnished these gentlemen with a brief account of the most important incidents of my life, I underwent a very strict examination, as they seemed determined to satisfy themselves, before they made any important advances or disclosures, that I was a person in whom they could repose implicit confidence. Finding me firmly attached to the interests of my country, so much so as to be willing to sacrifice even my life if necessary in her behalf, they began to address me with less reserve; and after bestowing the highest encomiums on my countrymen, for the bravery which they had displayed in their recent engagements with the British troops, as well as for their patriotism in publicly manifesting their abhorrence and detestation of the ministerial party in England, who to alienate their affections and to enslave them, had endeavoured to subvert the British constitution; they enquired of me if (to promote the interests of my country) I should have any objection to take a trip to Paris, on an important mission, if my passage and other expences were paid, and a generous compensation allowed me for my trouble; and which in all probability would lead to the means whereby I might be enabled to return to my country—to which I replied that I should have none. After having enjoined upon me to keep every thing which they had communicated, a profound secret, they presented me with a guinea, and a letter for a gentleman in White Waltam (a country town about 30 miles from Brintford) which they requested me to reach as soon as possible, and there remain until they should send for me, and by no means to fail to arrive at the precise hour that they should appoint.
After partaking of a little refreshment I set out at 12 o’clock at night, and reached White Waltam at half past 11 the succeeding day, and immediately waited on and presented the letter to the gentleman to whom it was directed, and who gave me a very cordial reception, and whom I soon found was as real a friend to America’s cause as the three gentlemen in whose company I had last been. It was from him that I received the first information of the evacuation of Boston by the British troops, and of the declaration of Independence, by the American Congress—he indeed appeared to possess a knowledge of almost every important transaction in America, since the memorable battle of Bunker-Hill, and it was to him that I was indebted for many particulars, not a little interesting to myself, and which I might otherwise have remained ignorant of, as I have always found it a principle of the Britains, to conceal every thing calculated to diminish or tarnish their fame, as a “great and powerful nation!”
I remained in the family of this gentleman about a fortnight, when I received a letter from ’Squire Woodcock, requesting me to be at his house without fail precisely at 2 o’clock the morning ensuing—in compliance of which I packed up and started immediately for Brintford, and reached the house of ’Squire Woodcock at the appointed hour—I found there in company with the latter, the two gentlemen whose names I have before mentioned, and by whom the object of my mission to Paris was now made known to me—which was to convey in the most secret manner possible a letter to Dr. Franklin; every thing was in readiness, and a chaise ready harnessed which was to convey me to Charing Cross, waiting at the door—I was presented with a pair of boots, made expressly for me, and for the safe conveyance of the letter of which I was to be the bearer, one of them contained a false heel, in which the letter was deposited, and was to be thus conveyed to the Doctor. After again repeating my former declarations, that whatever might be my fate, they should never be exposed, I departed, and was conveyed in quick time to Charing Cross, where I took the post coach for Dover, and from thence was immediately conveyed in a packet to Calais, and in fifteen minutes after landing, started for Paris; which I reached in safety, and delivered to Dr. Franklin the letter of which I was the bearer.
What were the contents of this letter I was never informed and never knew, but had but little doubt but that it contained important information relative to the views of the British cabinet, as regarded the affairs of America; and although I well knew that a discovery (while within the British dominions) would have proved equally fatal to me as to the gentlemen by whom I was employed, yet, I most solemnly declare, that to be serviceable to my country at that important period, was much more of an object with me, than the reward which I had been promised, however considerable it might be. My interview with Dr. Franklin was a pleasing one—for nearly an hour he conversed with me in the most agreeable and instructive manner, and listened to the tale of my sufferings with much apparent interest, and seemed disposed to encourage me with the assurance that if the Americans should succeed in their grand object, and firmly establish their Independence, they would not fail to remunerate their soldiers for their services—but, alas! as regards myself, these assurances have not as yet been verified!—I am confident, however, that had it been a possible thing for that great and good man (whose humanity and generosity have been the theme of infinitely abler pens than mine) to have lived to this day, I should not have petitioned my country in vain for a momentary enjoyment of that provision, which has been extended to so great a portion of my fellow soldiers; and whose hardships and deprivations, in the cause of their country, could not I am sure have been half so great as mine!