Or flattery soothe the dull, cold ear of death?”

Richard Bache had acted as postmaster up to 1776, when he was succeeded by Ebenezer Hazard. Hazard’s name is better known as an editor than as a postmaster, as he subsequently compiled the valuable historical collections bearing his name. He held the office of postmaster until the inauguration of President Washington’s administration. The succession of postmaster-generals since the adoption of the Federal Constitution will be given in its proper place.


X.
Reminiscences.

MAD ANTHONY WAYNE AND JEMMY THE ROVER.

In the year 1776 authority was given to employ extra post-riders between the armies from the head-quarters to Philadelphia. These post-riders ran many risks, as refugees were not rare at that day: hence the danger was materially increased in consequence. The letters of General Wayne were interrupted, as were those of others, and the utmost caution was necessary for the purpose of securing a safe conveyance. Various plans were adopted, and the postmaster was active in establishing a postal communication with the armies. There was another mode, however, which was even more successful, but equally dangerous to the parties engaged: this was the spy system. Much valuable information was conveyed to the commanders of the armies by it, which could not have reached them through the regular post. In one of General Wayne’s letters, addressed to his family in 1781, he makes allusion to one “Jemmy the Rover,” whom he had employed as a spy. While our army was encamped at Valley Forge, Jemmy was repeatedly sent within the British lines, and always returned with correct and important information. With him originated the appellation of “Mad Anthony” as applied to the general. “Jemmy the Rover” was an Irishman by birth, and was a regularly-enlisted soldier in the Pennsylvania line. The real name of Jemmy is not known. He was subject to, or at least feigned, occasional fits of craziness, in which state he often proved very noisy and troublesome, and in one instance was ordered to the guard-house. Whilst the sergeant with a file of men was conducting him thither, Jemmy suddenly halted, and asked the sergeant by whose orders he was arrested. “By those of the general,” was the reply. “Then forward!” said the Rover. In the course of a few hours he was released. In the act of taking his departure, he asked the sergeant whether Anthony (this being the only name he gave General Wayne) was mad or in fun when he placed him under arrest. The answer was, “The general has been much displeased with your disorderly conduct, and a repetition of it will be followed not only by confinement, but by twenty-nine well laid on.” “Then,” exclaimed Jemmy, “Anthony is mad: farewell to you; clear the coast for the commodore, Mad Anthony’s friend!” He suddenly disappeared from the camp. In a postscript to a letter General Wayne wrote to his family, he says, “Jemmy the Rover, alias the commodore, has absented himself from this detachment of the army. Should he in his rambles pass your way, I hope that you will extend towards him every hospitality which may be most likely to minister to his comfort. I am convinced that, whether in his hours of sanity or insanity, he would cheerfully lay down his life for either me or any of my family.”

It is said by some who knew Jemmy that he was a man of good education and extraordinary shrewdness: in fact, it was much doubted whether or not Jemmy feigned derangement.

As every thing having any connection with the events of 1776, which led to our independence, must be of interest, it may not be out of place here to introduce the following remarkable prophecy, made in the eighth century by Merlin, the celebrated Welsh astrologer. Its fulfilment in almost every particular renders it the more interesting, as evidenced in the American Revolution, to which reference seems to have been made. Had this prophecy been published subsequent to the Revolution, its authenticity might have been doubted, or at least questioned. But it is copied from Hawkins’s work, published in the year 1530.

In connection with the prophecy, we also give the key, furnished by an old citizen of Philadelphia to the editors of the “Columbian Magazine,” published in this city, in the March number, 1787:—