I am going for Newcastle, early in the morning. I just heard of a
vessel going to Jamaica before my return; so in haste determine to
give you one scrawl, lest you should think the neighbourhood forget
you. But you may depend that will never happen: we gratefully and
cordially remember you often. I would tell you all the news in a
word, if possible, with all haste. To begin--our neighbourhood
just as you left us, only B. Franklin lives in your house. The
Col. Hellier not yet gone to sea. I think all your acquaintance
continue well, save poor Johnny Kinsey, jun. on Tuesday, the 8th
inst. by accident shot himself dead, coming over Gray's ferry, by
Schuylkill falls, while in the boat. He had loaded his gun, and, as
is supposed, let the butt drop on the bottom of the flat, the gun
in a line with his body by his side; went off when half cocked. The
whole load of shot struck his left cheek, and went up directly into
his brain. He dropped and was dead in an instant--never groaned.
Great sorrow attended his father, and all his friends, for the
accident. He had strange apparitions of his death the night before,
which he informed his aunt Bowene of at breakfast, the morning of
the accident. I must relate to you the particulars which are as true
as surprising. He, talking with his aunt at breakfast concerning
his being admitted as an attorney and going into business, said,
he believed he had nothing to do with business, for his time, he
thought, was not long in this world. He said that last night he
was strangely disturbed in his sleep with dreams and apparitions;
that his cousin Charles Pemberton, who died last spring, appeared
to him, wrapped in a sheet, and said to him, "Kinsey, your time
approaches, you must go with me," and he disappeared. Soon after,
appeared a person before him in the form of an angel, (according
to the idea he had of an angel) and said to him "Kinsey, your hour
is come, you must go with me," and instantly he thought a flash of
lightning struck him on the cheek and he instantly died. This was
followed by a severe clap of thunder and lightning that awaked him
from his sleep, and all those particulars came fresh to his memory,
and gave him a great uneasiness. (Note--no thunder or lightning that
night.)--Upon this he endeavoured to get asleep again, and after
dozing a short time, he was awaked by the noise of a person walking
across the room, giving a heavy groan. He heard or saw no more, but
got out of bed and went into the other room, called the Scotch boy
to bring in his bed and lay by him the remainder of the night. In
the morning, at breakfast, on Tuesday last, he communicated all the
before related to his aunt Bowene and Hannah Kearney. He seemed much
dejected upon it, was confident he was near his end; but to divert
himself for that day, he determined to take his gun and go fowling
with young J. Derborow, young Oxley, and two or three more. They
walked to Coultas' ferry and crossed Schuylkill, and up to the falls
ferry. He told the company several times, as they walked, he wished
no accident might befall him before he got home. On their return,
crossing the ferry in the boat, the unhappy accident happened him.
Thus you have the particulars of this melancholy affair, as fully
as I could relate it if with you, and I chose to be particular in
it, because I have met with no story in history so well attested as
this concerning the premonitions from heaven of our dissolution.
The flash that struck his cheek when asleep, was clearly answered
by the flash of the gun and the shot thereof first striking. His
aunt laboured to persuade him not to go a gunning that day, and he
agreed; but afterwards meeting his company, they prevailed with him,
as they had all agreed to go the night before.
Your father and all friends are well. I sincerely wish you all
imaginable felicity, and with all the haste I began, I cannot help
now concluding that I am your very affectionate friend and humble
servant,