The Pox Party

by M. T. Anderson

  In the evening, we retire to our Fly & mess. Those among us with Whistle or Fiddle strikes up a Jig or Lilt — until Mr. Gower complains of the wretched Ungodliness of it all & the Coming of Flames & scorching Gouges & Tridents & Vats &c. at which, to preserve Harmony, we all break out in Hymnody, Prince playing like an Angel upon his wretched Fiddle. How feeble our Voices, but how glorious is our Praise of the ALMIGHTY! And then, does no one stop him, Prince plays us some piece of European Confusion, more, says I, for his own ear than ours.

  Prince — your Heart (tender Being) would melt to see this curious Fellow Prince.

  He must have suffered some great Wrong. I worry at what secret Ill he hides. My Vigor cools to speak of him, so girt is he in Solemnity — Helm and Hauberk — with only the Eyes peering out through the gloomy Visor. His Motions are slow with Sadness’s weight, forged Link on Link, a Vestment about his Chest.

  Yesterday, at the Bidding of Capt. Draper, I took Prince to spend his small Sum for Enlistment on a new Shirt and Breeches. He wished none of it, & when I said to him that we must purchase new Clothing for him, his Looks were all of cast-down Resentment, as were I proposing to dandify him — so I remarked somewhat smartly to him that torn Satin Breeches, Silk Stockings a-bled on, and a lace Jabot smeared with Chicken-Cack whistle, “Runaway Slave — fetch me and prosper!” in a manner ill-befitting a long-time Freeman like himself. He thought my Observations on Fashion exceeding Seasonable & we retired some miles down the Road and purchased him a Shirt out of some Negro cloth & some Breeches, which we got at a very fine Price.

  His Sadness is impenetrable. He speaks not.

  In the Evening, we each do our Stint at cooking on the Fire. Mr. Wheeler and I have been forced to teach him how; he hath no skill in this.

  Last night, we et Squab — which he left overlong on the Spit — we might as well have dined on Sandals — and I saw him cease chewing. He did not eat, though the Meat was in his Mouth.

  “Prince,” says I, “it will go down the easier if you Chew.”

  He did not respond; so I repeated my Instructions.

  Said he, “We take in the Flesh of other Beasts. We pack ourselves full of them. We are their Burial Ground.”

  The Rest of us — his Mess — gaped.

  He reached into his Mouth, & removed the Gobbet; & placed the Gobbet on his Plate. He regarded the Plate balanced upon his skinny Knees; & all life left him as he beheld that Mound of Flesh.

  Poor, unspeaking, tormented Creature.

  As says the Psalmist, “When I kept Silence, my Bones waxed old through my Roaring all the Day long.”

  From One who shall never keep Silence, would he or no,

  Ev. Goring

  Dulwich, Massachusetts

  May 21st, 1775

  My dear Fruition —

  The Waiting, it is terrible. I can’t abide the Drills, but as I turn on the Green & muster, this Point keeps me a-marching: that we must be in utmost Preparation for the Battle, should it come.

  Yesterday Evening, some Boys of the Village delivered several Pails of Oysters for our Mess, which we set about preparing; following which Repast, we went out upon the Docks for to smoke our Pipes & play Music with Men of other Companies.

  You would hardly guess it, but Mr. Wheeler is no little Flutist, and played us all Tunes while we rallied him on the droll Faces he makes when he blows. You’ve seen a Cow with a Hand up its Fundament; I speak of Surprize.

  We had “Pea Straw” & “Dusty Miller.” When we was fallen quiet and some had fall asleep on the Dock and others looked out into the Darkness, I asked Prince, who prepared more Oysters with John, to play us a Song; to which Prince replied, “What do you wish, sir?”— me answering, “Whatever gives you Pleasure.”

  Says he, “I do not seek Pleasure.”

  Says I, “Then play what you will,” and says he, that he will play what I wish, & now I am in some dudgeon, & says I, “Then, Prince, I wish to hear your Favorite.”

  Says he, “You will find the Effusions of Europe too stiff and dainty after the Delights of such pleasant Jigs.”

  “Prince, cast aside these Foreign Airs, which don’t speak, ’cept to the Head,” said I (without Thought, but only Combustion of the Tongue), crying, “Poor timid Creature, cast them aside, and instead play the Simple Things in your HEART!”

  He replied, “What is in my Heart is not simple.”

  & I says, “Then you han’t listened.”

  & He says, “I listen, & cannot understand its Speech.”

  & I says, “Then it ain’t your Heart you hear.”

  “The Human Heart,” recited he bitterly as if from some damp Lesson, “is a Muscle that operates through Constriction.” His Work on the Oysters grew defiant. “I have seen a Heart lying on a Plate, jolted with Electricity. It had as much to say dead as alive.”

  Now I was terrified at his Past & his Secrets & I asked for no more Music.

  Later I awoke in the Dark to hear a Shuffling & saw he was crawling over me & out of the Tent & I feigned Sleep until he was gone; but fearing that he had determined to absent himself from our Company and spare us the Hazard & Gloom of his Presence, I followed.

  He made his Way down to the Docks where the Smoke-House was & the Flakes was & the Herring-Horses. I held up for some Moments & then when a little Time had passed, I went down after him & was surrounded by the Fish in their Barrels and on their Racks, with their Eyes stark staring, and Fin & Tail unfurled for an Acre around. There, midst their thousand Eyes, their black, open Eyes, he sate slumped — him looking out to Sea at the Moon.

  I went to him & put my Hand upon his Shoulder.

  Said he to me, “God forgive me. Her Name — I never knew her Name.”

  Which meant not a Jot to me — and yet my Heart was the Thing that broke.

  Your brother,

  Ev.

  Dulwich, Massachusetts

  May 25th, 1775

  Dear Sister — & Mother —

  We shall in some Minutes go Drilling, but this Letter must inform you that Today a Captain is arrived with several more Companies & Word from the Quartermaster-Serjeant that we are to aid in providing Forage & Bat. I reckon on the Morrow we shall be seizing Stores from the Islands.

  Nothing amiss, my Dears, but still just I say that I am your Ev & shall always be your Ev & I shall always love you. That is all.

  Shun, I can little credit that but three Months hence, Mr. Porringer & I sat in the Cooperage discussing the Battles of yore: Damsels & Standards & Turrets & Trumpets & Jerusalem Delivered & Joshua sun-burnt before the Gates of Jericho & Christian, huddled with his Pack of Woe, ducking before Apollyon’s fiery Darts, &c. — and now we await Battle, & shall know how the Flesh feels when rent.

  There are Times, Shun, when I think real hard on the Fireside & you & Ma & a Volume to mull. I just wished to write you that.

  Remember — standing or falling, I am

  your humble & affect. Son & Brother,

  Ev.

  [From Clepp Asquith, one of the Trustees of the Novanglian College of Lucidity, to Mr. Richard Sharpe]

  Burn Acre, Virginia

  May 27th, 1775

  Mr. Sharpe — sir —

  I can’t scarcely credit the report that you have allowed the Negro boy to make good his escape. This word couldn’t fill us with more displeasure. What signifies your years of inquiry — and — frankly, sir — our years of investment — if the subject has slipped away through your ineptitude?

  I expect regular intelligence on this. Spend what resources you will to apprehend him.

  Perhaps it will be of no little interest for you to hear that Pro Bono the serving-man you sent me has fled similar. These are a wicked lot you work with. The Negro took some silver spoons and a sauce boat when he ran, and left our household in circumstances the most outrageous. We presume he has fled to Governor Dunmore. There ain’t no getting him back right now. Rumor swells daily that the Governor will proclaim the freedom of the Africans from bondage. He
will involve us all in calamity and chaos without measure. The thing is intolerable. That flagitious dog Dunmore has confiscated powder and public muskets; the word being, that he does so, that Patriots shall be defenseless when he bids our own slaves rise up against us and slit our throats. The Negro-Watch have been doubled to apprehend them. We expect hourly some plot to hatch. I cannot look at the face of my Negro woodchopper without fancying that he sharpens the axe for my daughter. Have you seen my daughter for the last some years? I think not, and she is a sweet and agreeable thing with a lick of a curl over her forehead. I cannot bear any of this. The Governor’s palace is guarded by brutes — Negroes and Shawnee Indians — patrolling the grounds — frowning out at the people. I have sent to Gov. Dunmore to inquire after the boy you sent me as a gift, to see if he fled there — but Dunmore will yield no reply. He don’t care a thing for our property any more and I fear the worst kind of tyranny to come.

  ’Tis time to shake off the yoke of oppression. ’Tis not enough that the royal tyrants reduce us to slavery — they raise up our slaves to lord it over us.

  We shall break all their backs. We shall show them chaos and rebellion. There shall be retribution. Watch and ward — reporting with regularity to —

  Clepp Asquith, Esq.

  Dulwich, Massachusetts

  May 28th, 1775

  Fruition —

  Sis —

  We have engaged with the Parliamentary Army.

  We rose early & assembled on the Green, & met there with the rest of the victualing Party. Here we heard detail of our Commission: The Parliamentary Army, it was known, graze a great Bustle of Livestock on the Grasses of Hog & Noddle’s Islands. We was to assemble on the Shore of Boston Harbor & meet Others shortly before Low Tide & then together we cross to Hog Island & from there, to the farther Island, Noddle’s. When the Channel between Hog Island & the Mainland was at its lowest, we was to drive the Livestock off the Islands over to Chelsea, with the squatter Animals poled over to the mainland on Scows.

  Little by little we hope to deprive the Army of their Meat & Hay, and with them trapped in the Town they will Feel the Pinch & mayhap then, once their Troops are Starving, mayhap Parliament will take Notice that we are in Earnest.

  We commended ourselves to God & marched to the Shore in no even Formation. Shem & John was lagging behind, striking each other on the Shoulders, & Prince was before us, playing upon the Fife. He had nothing with to fight save an old Saber someone had granted him, but we did not expect Engagement, our Detachment being instructed to fetch home the Livestock while Others from the Company shewed forth Arms, if such a display should become Requisite.

  Farmers came from out their Houses to watch us pass; as did their pretty Daughters, & we waved & called that we should be back in the Evening.

  When Prince put aside the Fife his Face was a Thing to see, for he walked without Words — as he does always — but with a Smolder not his usual Custom, & there was about him a Skeleton Air, the Eyes staring & fiery, & I saw finally the Sadness had Left Him, & now instead there was a Hunger which he would slake at all Costs.

  He would seize his Freedom by any Means.

  Seeing him, now my Vitals were Boiling by Knowledge of what we was to do, facing the strongest Army in the World; & my Spirits were in a Ferment; & my Heart beating quick in my Breast as I saw the Faces of those who marched with me, the Fine Men of our Town, that we had come here to fight & perhaps to die.

  For two Miles we marched & then came to the Shore of Boston Harbor, & there, across a little Channel, largely gray with Mud, stood Hog Island, & its Hills were soft with Grass like unto the Hills of Judah.

  There was assembled there flat Boats to take us across, and Oyster Boys to pole them along through the Rushes. Prince & I shared one with Shem & John, which giddy Pair near capsized the Boat playing a Slapping Game, until Mr. Gower called out to them, “My Friends, we are about to cross the profound Flood into open Rebellion. These are not Waters for Laughter.”

  There burnt the Sun of Massachusetts Bay above us, the Eye of God too, & the Kelp was around us, & the grassy heaped Hills was before us, where grazed dumb Beasts. ’Twas a rustic Scene, and yet, so must the River Rubicon have looked to the great Cæsar when he forded it, and so declared himself the Enemy of Rome.

  When we was disembarked, we marched along the eastern Shore of Hog Island, making for its far End, where we would ford a few feet of Water to Noddle’s. We could see — at some half mile’s Distance — other Patriot bands similarly headed.

  We forded over to Noddle’s Island across the low Channel, climbing up the Rocks in double File, crouched like Crabs for Footing. Having gained this second Island, we proceeded to cross to its other Side to advance, we fearing the Tory Mansions at the far end, which should be able to spy us, did we keep to the eastern Shore. We marched another mile or so Silent, with the dire Expectation of Grapeshot & Cannonade. Still, no Missile interrupted the Scene, which was only the Grasses & the Cattle & Swallows above a few gray Trees.

  Then heard we on the Sea Wind the Whicker of Sheep; & there burst over the Crest of a Hill a powerful Load of them with Patriots behind them whooping & swinging Switches, driving them to the Channel. Parliament’s Sheep were thick about us & so was their cries, too, & we raised our Hands and Muskets & laughed as they passed, to feel the Running & Bumbling of these Beasts all about us, scampering on the Clods.

  Near Silence fell after they was passed, the Silence of the Grass & the Sky; & in that Silence, there was a distant Crackle.

  Nought to it. A distant Popping. The Sjt. ordered Shem mount the Hilltop & survey. Shem come running back down & told us that the Enemy was alerted up & that Smoke arose from the far End of the Island & that they was on the Move.

  We kept forward, though, moving toward them, and came upon a Valley with a Farm House of Stone, fallen to Bits, & a Paddock of Horses. As you can reckon, I was full by now of Apprehension & everywhere in the Grass & Hollows saw Redcoats. Capt. Draper desired we Requisition the Horses for the Cause — most, to deprive the Enemy — but no one had the slightest Halter to lead the Horses with, & they appeared greatly skittish from the Detonation of some few Minutes before. There was much Argument, & Mr. Wheeler saying to try to drive the Horses, & others saying leave them; finally Capt. Draper raising his Voice & saying we could not leave, without we had completed our Commission — and so he ordered we Shoot the poor Beasts.

  It was no orderly Execution but rather a Rout; & it was Pitiable. In the first Volley, Mares spun, Legs broken, Skulls crushed, & the rest charged the far Wall of the Paddock & leaped it or crashed through it & coursed up the Hillside away from us. In the 2nd Volley more collapsed screaming & the Hollow was now filled with Smoke & at the 3rd Volley the wretched Brutes were dragged howling back down the Hill by their own dead Quarters & their Foals blasted & splayed. Mares cried for their own particular Young & struggled to drag their broken Limbs through the Grass.

  Our gruesome Task complete, shattered Horses still screaming on the Hillside, we was ordered to Retreat & did so, around the Hill, and run — i’faith, I have never run so swift — over the Fields. We passed other Corrals, now emptied. Smoke was thick & black & gray & white against the Grasses.

  The Corporal was in a pet with Capt. Draper, saying that slaying the Horses had been an infernal Waste of Powder & Shot; to which Capt. Draper replied sharply, “You shall be another.”

  We passed through Valleys & over Hillocks of Grass & saw Smoke ahead of us.

  We came to a Barn that burned full of Hay. Patriots were ringed about it, devastating the Fields with their Torches. The Meadow was a-fire. Flames snapped all around them & the Smoke was great & the Men skipped backwards through the Grass like Morris-dancers, trailing their flaming Pickets.

  We fled onwards.

  Now we came to the north-western Shore of the Isle. We could see the wide Channel & even Boston-Town, & — my God, I do not jest — there, drawing up, was a Sloop & a Schooner, discharged Boats with Parliam
ent’s Marines to protect their seized Animals.

  We still had a Mile, we reckoned, before we reached the Channel to Hog Island & from thence back to Land.

  We was sore afraid & wished only to get off these infernal Islands alive, & Sis, well can ye see the Boundary-stone of my Valor here — that it is set too close to the comfortable Dooryard, the Garden-Gate, the Pipe & Can of Flip.

  Now, the Fires having greatly advanced, Livestock was pouring out of the Folds of the Hills down towards Hog Island without any Human Encouragement. Drovers were already there, ushering them across the Current between the Isles.

  We reached the Stream & begun to Ford the Sheep, John & Shem butting Heads with Rams. For some Half an Hour we splashed in the Sea Water between the Isles.

  Another Detachment of Militia broke from the Hillside & beat their way towards us. They hollered that the Marines came on apace & that we had best flee. Oh, Shun, you scarce can think of the Panic this Word occasioned.

  We hurled ourselves across the Ford, waist-deep, & the Current running thick and strong with the Tide — & I slipped & almost dropped my Musket — had not Prince been standing by & seized my Arm & guided me. (May he be similarly propped by Hands Angelical.)

  The Ships now fired upon the Shore. We was terrified of the Grapeshot, which we could hear Strike the Sand — so when we gained Hog Island Shore, we hurled ourselves into a Ditch quivering & there remained.

  Twelve of us lay there without Speech, sensible always of the Crack of Gunshots & the Blast of the Cannon. Bewildered dumb Beasts wandered by, bleating.

  Shun — as I lied there, devoid of Motion, besieged by Greenhead Flies, which Insects took no Mercy, but charged from the Sand & bit us like Voluptuaries — I thought only of you & Ma & how all I did must tend towards your Protection. I cast us already in a Time after this War, when I shall be Home & we shall work together in the Garden & jest — and I shall tell these Tales — & I beat at Heaven’s Gates, demanding that such a Time should come, and me ALIVE.