We lay there for some Hours. We heard constant Conflict, which was often Distant (the tapping of Bullets & Blast of the Guns). With our Eyes we saw only the most Gentle Scene: the Grass waving on the Silver Hills & the Driftwood on the Beach.
We could not have known — but have since learned — that on Noddle’s Island, our Militia lay in Ambush for the Royal Marines & eventually sprung up, firing upon them from the Hillside, & they made no small Havoc among Parliament’s Rowdy-Boys, but drove them back towards the Bay.
While this transpired, the Ditch was ours. Others huddled in it, farther down, some watching, some weeping. We heard always the Shots in the clear Air.
Cows came & posed — blinked at the Fire that had overtaken one of the Hills on Noddle’s Island — and continued their Progress.
When we rose once to move, we saw instanter a Boat not three hundred Feet off, in which Redcoat Guns were leveled at both Shores — and we sank again for Hours.
The Firing went on all around us, we lying, Belly down, all in a Row. The Marines drifted up & down through the Channel — & sometimes were but a few Rods from our Shivering-Place.
It is curious how quickly a Man forgets Alarm. After an hour, the Mind toiling with nothing but repeated Warnings & Desperate Strategies & Calculations of Escape — it resolves itself to distant Explosion & Danger.
Shem & John whispered to one another, lying side by side in the Dirt. Other Men amongst us began muttering. Mr. Wheeler spake of Miss Joan; Mr. Bullock of Mrs. B. We all wished in that Moment to be with those we loved & held most enshrined in our Hearts. I need not tell you I spake of you & Ma, which you may tell her. Mr. Wheeler spake of the Glories of Mothers, as we listened to the Firing in the Channel, and the Fathers in the Ditch, they grew solemn at the thought of their Little Ones, many Mountains away.
Mr. Symes, dreaming on the possibility of Mrs. S. fructifying, inquired of Mr. Wheeler of the conditions under which Joan was conceived, and whether the Moon’s Visitations had favorably affected the Engendering; Mr. Wheeler — never the most loose-tongued, & dumb-founded by the Impertinence of the Question — replied not, glaring out of the Corner of his Eyes at Mr. Symes before shaking his Head.
“It is a mysterious Business, Conception,” says Mr. S.
“And wonderful,” says Shem, thinking clearly of some seaside Trollop.
“Birth,” said Mr. Bullock, moved to Words, “is magical, my Boys.”
“I have heard,” said Mr. Symes, “that one of the old Emperors of Rome wondered so greatly about the mysteries of the Womb, that he cut his Mother’s Belly open to view the Place he came from.”
I remarked Prince then jolting like he been Burnt, & I said, “Prince, here to my Left, is our Classicist. Which Emperor was that, sir? Julius Cæsar? Cæsar Augustus?”
Prince spake not; his Eyes were large; his Breath perfectly even; something amiss.
“Agricola?” said John.
Prince lowered his Forehead so he gazed at the Sand.
“Nero,” he whispered. “The Emperor Nero.”
He turned away from us, and lay on his Side.
We spake no more.
Then — I was aware he was stood to his full height, exposed, and he stalked away from us, saying, “It is in Suetonius.”
We histled he would attract the Enemy and I grabbed at his Ankles to fell him, & fall he did, & lay in the Sand without Sign of Life beneath the Glare of our Townsmen.
After that, there was no more Speaking.
In the early Evening, the Firing grew greater, which was General Putnam arrived with Reinforcements & engaging with Parliament’s Schooner.
Oh, Shun, I cannot describe the Scene. The Air above us was burning, & we heard the Bursts of Fire, & it put me in mind of that terrible Day when
The Sea & Sky must perish too,
And vast Destruction come;
For all the Sea shall shrink away,
And Flame melt down the Skies —
We saw bursts of Light from the Shells & the Smoke from the ranked Volleys. The Detonations grew exceeding fierce as the Patriots brought forward their Cannon & began firing at the Schooner that had been discharging at the Islands & there was fighting even in the Channel near our Hiding-Spot.
We lay huddled in a Line, & well wot we that at any Moment a Shell might fall upon us & our Ditch and leave us maimed or buried.
Now there was a continual BLASTING —
the Shouting of Commands —
— and no moment to think —
but A CLAP OF THUNDER —
too close —
which made the spongy Earth shudder —
And I saw a Motion: that John was risen, deranged with fear, & confronted the Battle Screaming.
I raised my Head & saw two ranks of Redcoats standing at attention across the Channel, & their Scouts darting before them, crouched & scurrying like Jackals, with their white Gaiters flashing in the grasses.
John screamed & begun to run down the Length of the Beach towards the Enemy; & though we wished to call to him, we could not, though Shem started up before someone grabbed him & yanked him back to the Sand while he gasped —
& then we heard the shouted Order from the Enemy & their Muskets tumbled to the Fore: DEATH PRESENTED TO VIEW.
& John — without Musket — still run down the Beach towards the Line of Fire; & he moaned & wailed like an Infant Baby as he run towards them —
& there was cried a sharp Order; the Redcoats fired off a small Volley, & the Sand whickered with Shot —
& half-way down the Beach, John spun & fell; struck in the Hip.
He moaned & rolled upon the Dirt, grasping at himself as if he believed he should soon slip away; he tore at his Side.
I raised my Head again to survey. The Redcoats, they stood with their Muskets in a line & they was motionless & silent —
John lay near the Water — pained on the Strand — his Blood smearing on the gray Beach in the Evening.
The Redcoat officer called out a Command —
& with a SCREAM — which froze the very Blood — the Ranks began to advance towards the Channel — stiff-legged & unstoppable & Muskets ready & Bayonets pronged. IT WAS ALL THE MORE TERRIFYING FOR BEING SLOW — & John watched them come on towards him — O ghastly Inevitability.
& then I saw that on my other Side, PRINCE was risen to his Feet & walked towards John; walking with an Air of Defiance; with no simple intent of Heroism; but we could see he WISHED TO DIE.
Another Blast, then — & though I am sure it was but one or two Muskets discharged upon us, it sounded as a Volley of a Thousand.
Prince had Tears running down his Face; he walked forwards in utter Regularity; & Shun, it was as if he had no Body & no Substance to slay.
Prince stood before them, Saber drawn but not raised.
He presented a Target so they would not fire upon John.
’Twas time for us to rise & fire — but we could not, Prince impeding our Shot — he standing between us & the Enemy — & still John lay upon the Sand, crying out & still they advanced.
Capt. Draper gave out the Command that we should charge our Muskets and prepare to rise & surprise the Enemy, & I saw he would have us fire despite Prince — & I could not abide it — my Spirits in such Confusions.
I would not otherwise have risen — knowing that I might leave Life behind. I would not otherwise have risen as I did & run forwards, tripping on the clods, expecting at every second the Bite of Lead — every second — to be torn asunder —
So when I reached Prince, I threw us both into the Mud & Brine.
“Life,” said I, “is worth at least Threepence.”
A Volley was fired — I know not who — and whether directed at us or at Capt. Draper or from Capt. Draper at the Enemy.
I know only that my Back, mounded, felt as huge as a Knoll —
& that Prince sobbed beneath me —
& that I was deaf with Shot —
& that I heard Capt. Draper calling to Present
! — to Fire! —
& that, when I raised my Eyes, unto the Hills, from whence cometh my Help — I saw that the small Company of Redcoats was astonished by this new Enemy and that, thus confronted, they swiveled towards Capt. Draper and FIRED A VOLLEY.
I prayed as Prince & I huddled; and the Lord delivered us out of our Distress — for other Militia concealed farther down the Beach had arisen out the Eel-Grass & fired their own Rounds, the Air being liquid with Smoke —
& the Redcoats now, in the first Rank, dropped down to one Knee to fire while the other Rank stepped back.
No longer could I see the Conflict through the Smoke & Evening — who fired, &c. — & Courage having quit me, I did not raise my Head again as the Air thundered. I heard a Scream, which was John, still disordered with Pain.
After some Time, I perceived that the Enemy was drawing away & firing at a Company farther down the Line of Hills on my Shore; & from this, reckoned that the Flood was become too deep for them to cross to annoy us with their Bayonets. They made their way down the Beach on Noddle’s Island towards the Bay, firing as they went.
Prince quivered with some torment of Spirits; but now looked about too; and we both rose from the wet Sand; & we made our way to the Water’s Edge to fetch up poor John.
He could not stand, Shun, & when we raised him between us, he could not move the one Leg, which dragged after him, bobbing across the scallops of the Mud. Prince supported the Broken Side of the Boy, I his Other.
So struggling, we reached our pitiful Revetment.
We laid John on the Ground, while he howled. We bound him with his own Shirt & staunched the Bleeding. His Hip was shattered. We fed him Rum to dead the Pain, & then lifted him & began walking back double-file through the Eel-Grass across the Isle to the far Shore.
Some twenty Minutes later we heard Sounds of Jubilation & a Detachment of Militiamen come over a Hillock, saying that they had all but driven the Redcoats up the Length of the Isle & that the Parliamentary Schooner & Sloop had been bombed so exceedingly that they fought simply to remain afloat.
When we was arrived to the Shore near where we had forded in the Morning, Scows with Fisher Boys were come to greet us, & we laid John in one Boat & sent him & Shem & Prince across to Chelsea.
We spent an Hour or so beating more Livestock out of the Brambles, where Pigs & Sheep were fled. We drive them onto Boats & waded back to the Island & they was taken over to the Land. Prince returned, his Errand with John complete; he said the Boy slept & was like to live. Prince joined us in shuttling the Beasts across the widening Channel to Chelsea.
At long last, we led the last of the Livestock onto the Scows.
On the Waters, we passed into the Channel. Behind us, the Tide rolled in, as did the Waters return and cover the Chariots of Pharoah, & the Horsemen, & all of Host of Egypt to their desperate Confusion as the Israelites fled across the denuded Deep —
He turned the Sea into Dry Land: They went through the Flood on Foot: There did we rejoice in Him.
O bless our God, ye People, and make the Voice of His Praise to be Heard:
For Thou, O God, hast proved us: Thou hast tried us, as Silver is tried.
We went through Fire & through Water: but Thou broughtest us out into a wealthy Place.
Blessed be God, which hath not turned away my Prayer, nor His Mercy from me.
And do you, O Best of Sisters, wake in the Night, and find our Mother woken too, as by some Presentiment, & do you descend the Stairs & out into the Dooryard, holding each other, & does the Voice of your Soul inform you, as you stand beside our Gate, that far from the thick Fever of Crickets in the Hills and the Silence of Mountain Stars, your Brother is engaged in Battle? And do you, standing together, Pray?
For if you do, I overhear you. And I am Safe.
& I am
your humble & affectionate
Brother & Son,
Private Ev. Goring
Dulwich, Massachusetts
May 31st, 1775
My dear Fruition & Mother —
Enclosed is the letters from the Others, which I have taken down most particular at their Command & some writ on their own; & they would be gratified, could you pass them on to their Houses. Please would you also give my special Regards to Liz? I wonder whether you ever shewn her these Letters, especially the Last, with my Heroism, which you might do, should she inquire for my Safety.
If you wish to Reply, as I hope you’ll do, you should send your Letter to the Encampment at Cambridge, as we will likely March there Tomorrow or the next Day, & get our first Glimpse of the whole Patriot Force.
After our Drill yesterday, the Captain having commended us on our great Success in our late Sally, Shem, Prince, & me conducted ourselves to Chelsea to visit John, where the Rascal is laid up in an House, surrounded by Ladies most solicitous for his Recovery. The News: He lives, if he don’t prosper, & his Leg shall be Sawn off. He was in Horrors at the Thought of this Loss & it was a Doleful Day, with him Weeping & telling us of what he should miss, back in the Village — the Skating & how he should help his Father at Harvest &c. O Shun, it was Pitiable to see. It han’t happened yet, but will on the morrow, says the Doctor. John already desponds for the Limb, but he can’t feel it now. He has no Sense there. It is a Dead Thing already. He was further full of Misery for his violent Fit which conduced to such Confusion, & he asked I should beg Capt. Draper for Forgiveness. I do aver Capt. Draper shall grant it, for Capt. Draper is the kindest of Men, & in that Ditch, we all lay Confounded, and should not judge one another.
With many Fond Words we bid John Farewell & hope that his Recovery is Swift & that the Maker of his Limbs will Support him in the Sadness to come. You & Momma could keep him in thy Prayers.
Being upon the Docks of Chelsea, we halted to admire the Spectacle of the burnt Schooner grounded out near Hog’s Isle, which charred Carcass lays there rolling on the Straits for all to see, its Ribs blackened. There has been further Raids upon those Islands in the last Days, & most of the Livestock is got off them now & furnishes Meals for Patriots.
We set off again towards Dulwich, & I see Prince wishes to say something to me, and I ask him does he wish to disburden hisself, and with utmost Humility, he says in his usual Style, “Private Goring, sir, you are, I trust, sensible of the Gratitude I owe you for your Intervention in my ill-advised Diversion.”
“Your Diversion,” says I.
To which he replies, “There can be little Doubt that without your timely Interference, I should have been dispatched by the Musketry of the Regulars.”
“Prince,” says I, “you cannot divert me. You planned a Martyrdom as plain as a Catholic.”
He diverted his Eyes in Shame.
I did not wish to make him Miserable, so with some Repentance for Words he might have took unkindly, I said, “Sweet, humble Being, don’t Fret. You drew off Fire that might have finished John,” & said that John shouldn’t be lying there Alive, surrounded by the Ladies, had Prince not stood up; and I said that it was Heroism & it don’t matter a Bean what his Reason was.
“Your Kindness is —”
“You are most heartily welcome.”
“Private Goring, I am indebted in so total —,” and I stopped him, wishing no more Gratitude for doing no more than he had; though I han’t done it to try and Die.
We walked farther, & skipped Stones in a Saltmarsh, & the Sun set over the Hills. When we reached the Shore, the Tide was low, & there were Children there disporting themselves with Chum. There was a whole Mess of Entrails spread upon the Sand; & Shem — you know your True Love — dived into the Children’s Game & grabbed Parts & made to rub them in their Hair & his. They laughed & then ran to Prince & studied him, having seen few Negroes, I reckon. When they was gathered by him, he pointed to each Organ of the savaged Fish & he told them of its Use, & he demonstrated which were not from Fish, but Sheep.
They were interested by his Lesson — though wary, i’faith, because of his dusky Skin. They asked him Questions
about the Gills, & he answered them & gave us the Names of Things in Latin & Greek.
I cannot imagine the peculiar Circumstances of his Life, & I fear to wonder at it. Know only that we had a pleasant Evening as your delicate Lover Shem & the Children horsed with the Entrails, hurling them at each other by Handfuls, & the biggest of the Boys, being struck, slung them around his Neck like Jewelry & pranced far out onto the Strand, greeting the Sea as it slid forth sighing, as if it welcomed him.
So did we play, while above us all, the last Illumination folded in Judgment Scrolls across the Horizon.
Remaining —
your dutiful Brother & Son —
Ev
Cambridge
June 2nd, 1775
My dear Fruition —
We are come at last to Cambridge & the Great Encampment.
Receiving yesterday our Orders to march here, we broke Camp in Dulwich & marched the Day through, & now are favored with our first View of our Patriot Headquarters. We have been but in the Provinces of Freedom; & now are come into its Heart.
Fruition — it is not to be imagined. ’Tis perpetual Activity here, joyful almost in its Bustle — with the wide Avenues of this Town, the fair Mansions, their Gardens & Arbors & Parterres overrun with fine New England Rebels — on the Common, Tents — if some could be called Tents — nay, Blankets hanged on Poles, Kerchiefs strung up with Baling Twine, Shacks bound together of Sumac, & mobbing it all (Faith! Would you could see it! The Blessed Confusion of it!) thus: New Hampshire Men in Deerskin Leggings & Connecticut Men shaving in the Trees & Pocket Orators preaching Government in overbig Hats & Stockbridge Indians stalking among us painted & Farmers in their Blouses hefting Blunderbusses & Fathers and Sons enjoying Jests together, burning Toast or Syrup on the Fire —
The Pox Party Page 18
