Although but a few moments previous, my son would have thought no sacrifice too great, that would have enabled us to effect our object in obtaining passages to America; yet, when he found that instead of himself, I was to be left for a while behind, he appeared at some loss how to determine—but on being assured by the Consul that if my life was spared I should soon join him, he consented; and being furnished by the Consul with a few necessary articles of cloathing, I the next day accompanied him on board the packet which was to convey him to America—and after giving him the best advice that I was capable of as regarded his behaviour and deportment while on his passage, and on his arrival in America, I took my leave of him and saw him not again until I met him on the wharf on my arrival at Boston.
When I parted with the Consul he presented me with half a crown, and directions where to apply for board—it was at a public Inn where I found many American seamen, who, like myself, were boarded there at the Consul’s expence, until passages could be obtained for them to America—I was treated by them with much civility, and by hearing them daily recount their various and remarkable adventures, as well as by relating my own, I passed my time more agreeably than what I probably should have done in other society.
In eight weeks I was so far recruited by good living, as in the opinion of the Consul, to be able to endure the fatigues of a passage to my native country, and which was procured for me on board the ship Carterian, bound to New-York. We set sail on the 5th April, 1823, and after a passage of 42 days, arrived safe at our port of destination. After having experienced in a foreign land so much ill-treatment from those from whom I could expect no mercy, and for no other fault than that of being an American, I could not but flatter myself that when I bid adieu to that country, I should no longer be the subject of unjust persecution, or have occasion to complain of ill treatment from those whose duty it was to afford me protection. But the sad reverse which I experienced while on board the Carterian, convinced me of the incorrectness of my conclusions. For my country’s sake, I am happy that I have it in my power to say that the crew of this ship, was not composed altogether of Americans—there was a mixture of all nations; and among them some so vile, and destitute of every humane principle, as to delight in nothing so much as to sport with the infirmities of one, whose grey locks ought at least to have protected him. By these unfeeling wretches (who deserve not the name of sailors) I was not only most shamefully ill-used on the passage, but was robbed of some necessary articles of cloathing, which had been charitably bestowed on me by the American Consul.
We arrived in the harbour of New-York about midnight, and such were the pleasing sensations produced by the reflection that on the morrow I should be indulged with the priviledge of walking once more on American ground after an absence of almost 50 years, and that but a short distance now separated me from my dear son, that it was in vain that I attempted to close my eyes to sleep. Never was the morning’s dawn so cheerfully welcomed by me. I solicited and obtained the permission of the captain to be early set on shore, and on reaching which, I did not forget to offer up my unfeigned thanks to that Almighty Being, who had not only sustained me during my heavy afflictions abroad, but had finally restored me to my native country. The pleasure that I enjoyed in viewing the streets thronged by those, who, although I could not claim as acquaintances, I could greet as my countrymen, was unbounded, I felt a regard for almost every object that met my eyes, because it was American.
Great as was my joy on finding myself once more among my countrymen, I felt not a little impatient for the arrival of the happy moment when I should be able to meet my son. Agreeable to the orders which I received from the American Consul, I applied to the Custom House in New-York for a passage from thence to Boston, and with which I was provided on board a regular packet which sailed the morning ensuing—in justice to the captain, I must say that I was treated by him as well as by all on board, with much civility. We arrived at the Long Wharf in Boston after a short and pleasant passage. I had been informed by the Consul, previous to leaving London, of the name of the gentleman with whom my son probably lived, and a fellow passenger on board the packet was so good as to call on and inform him of my arrival—in less than fifteen minutes after receiving the information my son met me on the wharf! Reader, you will not believe it possible for me to describe my feelings correctly at this joyful moment! if you are a parent, you may have some conception of them; but a faint one however unless you and an only and beloved child have been placed in a similar situation.
After acquainting myself with the state of my boy’s health, &c. my next enquiry was whether he found the country as it had been described by me, and how he esteemed it—“well, extremely well (was his reply) since my arrival I have fared like a Prince, I have meat every day, and have feasted on American puddings and pies (such as you used to tell me about) until I have become almost sick of them!” I was immediately conducted by him to the house of the gentleman with whom he lived, and by whom I was treated with much hospitality—in the afternoon of the day succeeding (by the earnest request of my son) I visited Bunker Hill, which he had a curiosity to view, having heard it so frequently spoken of by me while in London, as the place where the memorable battle was fought and in which I received my wounds.
I continued in Boston about a fortnight, and then set out on foot to visit once more my native State. My son accompanied me as far as Roxbury, when I was obliged reluctantly to part with him, and proceeded myself no farther on my journey that day than Jamaica plains, where at a public house I tarried all night—from thence I started early the next morning and reached Providence about 5 o’-clock in the afternoon, and obtained lodgings at a public Inn in High-Street.
It may not be improper here to acquaint my readers that as I had left my father possessed of very considerable property, and of which at his decease I thought myself entitled to a portion equal to that of other children, which (as my father was very economical in the management of his affairs) I knew could not amount to a very inconsiderable sum, it was to obtain this if possible, that I became extremely anxious to visit immediately the place of my nativity—accordingly the day after I arrived in Providence, I hastened to Cranston, to seek my connexions if any were to be found; and if not to seek among the most aged of the inhabitants, some one who had not forgotten me, and who might be able to furnish me with the sought for information. But, alas, too soon were blasted my hopeful expectations of finding something in reserve for me, that might have afforded me a humble support, the few remaining years of my life. It was by a distant connection that I was informed that my brothers had many years since removed to a distant part of the country—that having credited a rumour in circulation of my death, at the decease of my father had disposed of the real estate of which he died possessed, and had divided the proceeds equally among themselves! This was another instance of adverse fortune that I had not anticipated!—it was indeed a circumstance so foreign from my mind that I felt myself for the first time, unhappy, since my return to my native country, and even believed myself now doomed to endure, among my own countrymen (for whose liberties I had fought and bled) miseries similar to those that had attended me for many years in Europe. With these gloomy forebodings I returned to Providence, and contracted for board with the gentleman at whose house I had lodged the first night of my arrival in town, and to whom for the kind treatment that I have received from him and his family, I shall feel till death under the deepest obligations that gratitude can dictate; for I can truly say of him, that I was a stranger and he took me in, I was hungry and naked, and he fed and cloathed me.
As I had never received any remuneration for services rendered, and hardships endured in the cause of my country, I was now obliged, as my last resort, to petition Congress to be included in that number of the few surviving soldiers of the Revolution, for whose services they had been pleased to grant pensions—and I would to God that I could add, for the honour of my country, that the application met with its deserving success—but, although accompanied by the deposition of a respectable gentleman (which deposition I have thought proper to annex to my narrative) satisfactorily confirming every fact as therein stated—yet, on no other principle, than that I was absent from the country when the pension law passed—my Petition was REJECTED!!! Reader, I have been for 30 years (as you will perceive by what I have stated in the foregoing pages) subject, in a foreign country, to almost all the miseries with which poor human nature is capable of being inflicted—yet, in no one instance did I ever feel so great degree of a depression of spirits, as when the fate of my Petition was announced to me! I love too well the country which gave me birth, and entertain too high a respect for those employed in its government, to reproach them with ingratitude; yet, it is my sincere prayer that this strange and unprecedented circumstance, of withholding from me that reward which they have so generally bestowed on others, may never be told in Europe, or published in the streets of London, least it reach the ears of some who had the effrontery to declare to me personally, that for the active part that I had taken in the “rebellious war” misery and starvation would ultimately be my reward!
To conclude—although I may be again unfortunate in a renewal of my application to government, for that reward to which my services so justly entitle me—yet I feel thankful that I am priviledged (after enduring so much) to spend the remainder of my days, among those who I am confident are possessed of too much humanity, to see me suffer; and which I am sensible I owe to the divine goodness, which graciously condescended to support me under my numerous afflictions, and finally enabled me to return to my native country in the 79th year of my age—for this I return unfeigned thanks to the Almighty; and hope to give during the remainder of my life, convincing testimonies of the strong impression which those afflictions made on my mind, by devoting myself sincerely to the duties of religion.