Peter Colton, farmer of Longmeadow.
The first letter is addressed to William Armstrong of Pittsfield, and is written by Peter Colton.
LONGMEADOW, MASS., 10th mo., 24th day, 1789.
HONORED FRIEND:
It is going on a Year since I have writ a Letter to you, but you know I have not forgot the man that saved my Life at Monmouth, and I hope you have not forgot Yr old Sargeant of Co A. I hear you are growing prosperous, and I am glad to hear it. I take my pen in hand to tell you of the Visit w’ch our old General has made to Springfield. I thank the Lord that these old Eyes has seen him once more before I die. I knew he w’ld not stop in our Town, & so I harnessed up the old horse and took my ten year old boy & started to Springf’ld. After I had bought some Codfish & molases, I tied up my horse in the First Meeting House Sheds & waited by Zenas Parsonses Tavern. The General was late, it having rained hard in the Morning, and he did not reach town till nearly Four. There was a crowd around the Tavern Steps, but no great Cheers when the General stepped out of his Handsome Coach. There was several Prominent Gentlemen to meet him, and Zenas, he was a-rubbing his hands and a-bowing, with all the servants behind him. The boys took the Horses around to the stables, & the General, he started to go in, when he sees me standing by the door. What do you suppose he did? There come over his face one of them smiles of his, like the sun breaking through the clouds on a wintry day, & he steps up and shakes my hand & he says, Why here’s my old Sargeant. And is this your Boy? a Fine lad, says he, what is his Name? George Washington Colton, says I as proud as a Peacock. He laughs, and pulls out a Silver Dollar, and gives it to the Boy & it will be handed down to his Great grand children, if he has any. Then the General says, Come up in the Evening, says he, & sit with me and the other Gentlemen. Thank you Sir, says I, saluting, I will, as soon as milking, and then he went into the Tavern, for some of the fine Gentlemen was getting quite impatient, seeing him stand talking so long with a plain farmer like me. And yet there is some Sneaks who ought to be on the gallows, that says that George Washington is cold and haughtey, and has no heed for the common People. My paper is used up, so no more at present from.
Yr faithful friend,
PETER COLTON.
The second letter is from Enoch Day, proprietor of a general store in West Springfield, to Joseph Mugridge, merchant, of Medford.
WEST SPRINGFIELD, Oct. 22, 1789.
COUSIN JOSEPH:—It is some time since I have seen you, & I hope that your business is florishing, and that you & Cousin Elizabeth, and little Betty are well. I would be getting on prety well if these blustering returned Soldiers had any thing but their filthy Continental Money to pay with. I had one put in Jail the other day, old Job Smith, up on the Northampton Road. He came down from his High Horse, after I got the Sheriff on his back & began to sniffle & whine, and talk about a sick Wife, & how he had been wounded at Trenton. I tell you, Joseph, it is our turn now, & we have gott these bare footted heros on the Hip. That white livered Sneak & Coward, G. Washington, was in Springfield, yesterday. A lot of Fools dressed up in their best, and went over the river to see him. I hear he stopped at Zene Parsons’ Tavern, and rode in a fine Coach, with four Horses, and a whole company of Lackeys to bend & crouch & lick his Boots. He is more like a King than a president, and they say he grows wors every day. I hear he has already overdrawed his salary, & has stole $4,000, and I can well believe it. What any one can see to worship in that man, I cannot understand. He is treacherous in private Friendship, a hypocrite in public life, and the World will be puzzled to know whether he is an Apostate or an Imposter, whether he has abandoned his principles or whether he ever had any. Posterity will say that the Mask of political hypocricy has been worn by Caesar, by Cromwell, and by Washington. This journey he is taking is to make political Capital. He wants a second Term in Office, & he is catering to the vote of New England. He is an aristocrat, a Monocrat, an Anglomaniac, & an American Caesar. He ought to be the Servant of the People, but he wants them to bow & treat him like a little King. We had one odious King George, & now we are burdened with another. He is not the father, but the Stepfather of the Country. A friend of mine in New York, tells me for a fact, that this man comitted murder in his youth, & you have doubtless heard of those letters of his which have been found, that prove beyond the shadow of a Doubt, that this man, who is hailed as the Saviour of the Country, was really a Coward, that he was at heart as much of a Traitor as Benedict Arnold, only he lacked Arnold’s Boldness & Courage to carry it out. I have just received a Pamphlet written by one Valerius, which ought to be scattered abroad as a patriotic Document. I will copy one particularly good paragraph for you.