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!
After remaining two days in Paris, letters were delivered to me by the
Doctor, to convey to the gentlemen by whom I had been employed, and
which for their better security as well as my own, I deposited as the
other, in the heel of my boot, and with which to the great satisfaction
of my friends I reached Brintford, in safety, and without exciting the
suspicion of any one as to the important (although somewhat dangerous)
mission that I had been engaged in. I remained secreted in the house
of ’Squire Woodcock a few days, and then by his and the two other
gentlemen’s request, made a second trip to Paris, and in reaching which
and in delivering my letters, was equally as fortunate as in my first.
If I should succeed in returning in safety to Brintford this trip, I
was (agreeable to the generous proposal of Doctor Franklin) to return
immediately to France, from whence he was to procure me a passage
to America;--but, although in my return I met with no difficulty,
yet, as if fate had selected me as a victim to endure the miseries
and privations which afterward attended me, but three hours before
I reached Dover to engage a passage for the third and last time to
Calais, all intercourse between the two countries was prohibited!
My flattering expectations of being enabled soon to return to my
native country, and once more to meet and enjoy the society of my
friends, (after an absence of more than twelve months) being thus
by an unforeseen circumstance completely destroyed, I returned
immediately to the gentlemen by whom I had been last employed to advise
with them what it would be best for me to do, in my then unpleasant
situation--for indeed, as all prospects were now at an end, of meeting
with an opportunity very soon to return to America, I could not bear
the idea of remaining any longer in a neighbourhood where I was so
strongly suspected of being a fugitive from justice and under continual
apprehension of being retaken, and immured like a felon in a dungeon.
By these gentlemen I was advised to repair immediately to London, where
employed as a labourer, if I did not imprudently betray myself, they
thought there was little probability of my being suspected of being
an American. This advice I readily accepted as the plan was such a one
as exactly accorded with my opinion, for from the very moment that I
first escaped from the clutches of my captors, I thought that in the
city of London I should not be so liable to be suspected and harassed
by the soldiers, as I should to remain in the country. These gentlemen
supplied me with money sufficient to defray my expenses and would
have willingly furnished me with a recommendation had they not been
fearful that if I should be so unfortunate as to be recognized by any
one acquainted with the circumstance of my capture and escape, those
recommendations (as their loyalty was already doubted) might operate
much against them, in as much as they might furnish a clue to the
discovery of some transactions which they then felt unwilling to have
exposed. I ought here to state that before I set out for London, I was
entrusted by these gentlemen with Five Guineas, which I was requested
to convey and distribute among a number of Americans, then confined as
prisoners of war, in one of the city prisons.
I reached London late in the evening and the next day engaged board at
Five Shillings per week, at a public house in Lombard Street, where
under a ficticious name I passed for a farmer from Lincolnshire--my
next object was to find my way to the prison where were confined as
prisoners of war a number of my countrymen, and among whom I was
directed to distribute the 5 guineas with which I had been entrusted
for that purpose by their friends at Brintford.--I found the prison
without much difficulty, but it was with very considerable difficulty
that I gained admittance, and not until I had presented the turnkey
with a considerable fee would he consent to indulge me. The reader will
suppose that I must have been very much surprised, when, as soon as
the door of the prisoner’s apartment was opened, and I had passed the
threshold, to hear one of them exclaim with much apparent astonishment,
“Potter! is that you! how in the name of heaven came you here!”--an
exclamation like this by one of a number to whom I supposed myself a
perfect stranger, caused me much uneasiness for a few moments, as I
expected nothing less than to recognize in this man, some one of my old
shipmates, who had undoubtedly a knowledge of the fact of my being a
prisoner of war, and having been confined as such on board the guard
ship at spithead--but, in this I soon found to my satisfaction that
I was mistaken, for after viewing for a moment the person by whom I
had been thus addressed. I discovered him to be no other than my old
friend seargent Singles, with whom I had been intimately acquainted
in America--as the exclamation was in presence of the turnkey, least
I should have the key turned upon me, and be considered as lawful a
prisoner as any of the rest, I hinted to my friend that he certainly
mistook me (a Lincolnshire farmer) for another person, and by a wink
which he received from me at the same moment gave him to understand
that a renewal of our acquaintance or an exchange of civilities
would be more agreeable to me at any other time. I now as I had been
requested divided the money as equally as possible among them, and
to prevent the suspicions of the keeper, I represented to them in a
feigned dialect peculiar to the labouring people of the Shire-towns,
that, “me master was owing a little trifle or so to a rebel trader of
one of his Majesty’s American provinces, and was quested by him to pay
the ballance and so, to his brother yankee rebels here imprisoned.”
I found the poor fellows (fifteen in number) confined in a dark filthy
apartment of about 18 feet square; and which I could not perceive
contained any thing but a rough plank bench of about 10 feet in
length, and a heap of straw with one or two tattered, filthy looking
blankets spread thereon, which was probably the only bedding allowed
them--although their situation was such as could not fail to excite
my pity, yet, I could do no more than lament that it was not in my
power to relieve them--how long they remained thus confined or when
exchanged, I could never learn, as I never to my knowledge saw one of
them afterwards.
For four or five days, after I reached London, I did very little more
than walk about the city, viewing such curiosities as met my eye; when,
reflecting that remaining thus idle, I should not only be very soon out
of funds, but should run the risk of being suspected and apprehended as
one belonging to one of the numerous gangs of pick-pockets &c. which
infest the streets of the city; I applied to an Intelligence Office
for a coachman’s berth, which I was so fortunate as to procure, at 15
shillings per week--my employer (J. Hyslop, Esq.) although rigid in
his exactions, was punctual in his payments, and by my strict prudence
and abstinence from the numerous diversions of the city, I was enabled
in the six months which I served him, to lay up more cash than what
I had earned the twelve months preceding. The next business in which
I engaged was that of brick making, and which together with that of
gardening, I pursued in the summer seasons almost exclusively for
five years; in all which time I was not once suspected of being an
American, yet, I must confess that my feelings were not unfrequently
most powerfully wrought upon, by hearing my countrymen dubbed with
cowardice, and by those too who had been thrice flogged or frightened
by them when attempting to ascend the heights of Bunker Hill! and to be
obliged to brook these insults with impunity, as to have resented them
would have caused me to have been suspected directly of being attached
to the American cause, which might have been attended with serious
consequences.
I should now pass over the five years that I was employed as above
mentioned, as checquered by few incidents worth relating, was it not
for one or two circumstances of some little importance that either
attended me, or came within my own personal knowledge. The reader has
undoubtedly heard that the city of London and its suburbs, is always
more or less infested with gangs of nefarious wretches, who come under
the denomination of Robbers, Pickpockets, Shoplifters, Swindlers,
Beggars, &c. who are constantly prowling the streets in disguise,
seeking opportunities to surprise and depredate on the weak and
unguarded--of these the former class form no inconsiderable portion,
who contrive to elude and set at defiance the utmost vigilance of
government--they are a class who in the day time disperse each to his
avocation, as the better to blind the scrutinizing eye of justice, they
make it a principle to follow some laborious profession, and at night
assemble to proceed on their nocturnal rounds, in quest of those whose
well stored pockets promise them a reward, equal to the risk which they
run in obtaining it. As I was one evening passing through Hyde Park,
with five guineas and a few pennies in my pockets, I was stopped by
six of these lawless footpads; who, presenting pistols to my breast,
demanded my money--fortunately for me I had previously deposited
the guineas in a private pocket of my pantaloons, for their better
security; thrusting their hands into my other pockets and finding me in
possession of but a few English pennies, they took them and decamped. I
hastened to Bow Street and lodged information of the robbery with the
officers, and who to my no little surprise informed me that mine was
the fifth instance, of information of similar robberies by the same
gang, which had been lodged with them that evening!--runners had been
sent in every direction in pursuit of them, but with what success I
could never learn.
Despairing of meeting with a favourable opportunity to return to
America, until the conclusion of peace, and the prospects of a
continuation of the war being as great then (by what I could learn) as
at any period from its commencement, I became more reconciled to my
situation, and contracted an intimacy with a young woman whose parents
were poor but respectable, and who I soon after married. I took a small
ready furnished chamber, in Red Cross Street, where with the fruits of
my hard earnings, I was enabled to live tolerable comfortable for three
or four years--when, by sickness and other unavoidable circumstances, I
was doomed to endure miseries uncommon to human nature.
In the winter of 1781, news was received in London of the surrender of
the army of Lord Cornwallis, to the French and American forces!--the
receipt of news of an event so unexpected operated on the British
ministers and members of Parliament, like a tremendous clap of
thunder--deep sorrow was evidently depicted in the countenances of
those who had been the most strenuous advocates for the war--never was
there a time in which I longed more to exult, and to declare myself a
true blooded yankee--and what was still more pleasing to me, was to
find myself even surpassed in expressions of joy and satisfaction, by
my wife, in consequence of the receipt of news, which, while it went to
establish the military fame of my countrymen, was so calculated to
humble the pride of her own! greater proofs of her regard for me and my
country I could not require.
The ministerial party in Parliament who had been the instigators of the
war, and who believed that even a view of the bright glistening muskets
and bayonets of John Bull, would frighten the leather apron Yankees to
a speedy submission, began now to harbour a more favourable opinion
of the courage of the latter. His Majesty repaired immediately to the
house of peers, and opened the sessions of parliament--warm debates
took place, on account of the ruinous manner in which the American war
was continued; but Lord North and his party appeared yet unwilling to
give up the contest. The capitulation of Cornwallis had however one
good effect, as it produced the immediate release of Mr. Laurens from
the Tower, and although it did not put an immediate end to the war, yet
all hopes of conquering America from that moment appeared to be given
up by all except North and his adherents.
There was no one engaged in the cause of America, that did more to
establish her fame in England, and to satisfy the high boasting
Britains of the bravery and unconquerable resolutions of the Yankees,
than that bold adventurer capt. Paul Jones; who, for ten or eleven
months kept all the western coast of the island in alarm--he boldly
landed at Whitehaven, where he burnt a ship in the harbour, and even
attempted to burn the town;--nor was this to my knowledge the only
instance in which the Britains were threatened with a very serious
conflagration, by the instigation of their enemies abroad--a daring
attempt was made by one James Aitkin, commonly known in London by the
name of John the Painter, to set fire to the royal dock and shipping at
Portsmouth, and would probably have succeeded, had he not imprudently
communicated his intentions to one, who, for the sake of a few guineas,
shamefully betrayed him--poor Aitkin was immediately seized, tried,
condemned, executed and hung in chains--every means was used to extort
from him a confession by whom he had been employed, but without any
success--it was however strongly suspected that he had been employed
by the French, as it was about the time that they openly declared
themselves in favour of the Americans.
With regard to Mr. Laurens, I ought to have mentioned that as soon as I
heard of his capture on his passage to Holland, and of his confinement
in the Tower, I applied for and obtained permission to visit him in
his apartment, and (with some distant hopes that he might point out
some way in which I might be enabled to return to America) I stated
to him every particular as regarded my situation. He seemed not
only to lament very much my hard fortune, but (to use his own words)
“that America should be deprived of the services of such men, at the
important period too when she most required them.”--He informed me that
he was himself held a prisoner, and knew not when or on what conditions
he would be liberated, but should he thereafter be in a situation to
assist me in obtaining a passage to America, he should consider it a
duty which he owed his country to do it.
Although I succeeded in obtaining by my industry a tolerable living
for myself and family, yet, so far from becoming reconciled to my
situation, I was impatient for the return of Peace, when (as I then
flattered myself) I should once more have an opportunity to return
to my native country. I became every day less attached to a country
where I could not meet with any thing (with the exception of my
little family) that could compensate me for the loss of the pleasing
society of my kindred and friends in America--born among a moral and
humane people, and having in my early days contracted their habits,
and a considerable number of their prejudices, it would be unnatural
to suppose that I should not prefer their society, to either that
of rogues, thieves, pimps and vagabonds, or of a more honest but an
exceedingly oppressed and forlorn people.