May 11^th, 1775

Fruition — Sis — Shun — bosom Friend —

So saith the Lord from out his Shrub of Flame: Proclaim LIBERTY, every one to his Brother, and every Man to his Neighbor! And I to my sister.

O Fruition, dear Sis, the Spirit of Liberty stirs the Countryside like Sap, & everywhere I am sensible of the Blossoms. I am in such Spirits I cannot describe the like. As we march towards Boston, we meet every Mile upon the Way another Column of Patriots bound for the Encampment at Cambridge. There is much talk upon the Road of Boston & its Captivity, for Parliament’s Army hides within — silent — mum — & its Citizens trapped, while without, our Numbers grow.

Among our Townspeople, you may report to Aunts & Belles & Fathers — ALL WELL. Mr. Wheeler wishes I should write to Mrs. Wheeler his Regards — nay (he stops me) — his Love — which is a momentous Word, from him; & he further says, to give his Regards to little Josephine and Aaron, pat them on the Head, hold Aaron by the Hair, and tell them their Pa is marching and thinks on them oft.

Mr. Bullock, he hath overheard Mr. Wheeler, & adds his Sentiments of affection for Mrs. B. and his Regard for her. Yea, & the Rest, who will line up Tomorrow & belabor my Quill, tho’ they hear this Missive is already sent.

Shem and John, they is competing for Blisters. Though warned by One and All, they still, around the Fire, will pick & pick & pick — & bleed & bleed & bleed. You are welcome to Shem, Shun, when he returns Home decorated — his feet like Hives a-weeping Honey.

I hope Ma is well. Tell her stop putting her Hand through the Window-Glass & that before she knows I’m gone, I’ll be bounding up the Meadow to watch her burn the Cobbler & dry up Turkey as in days of yore. Give her a kiss on each Cheek & don’t avoid the Mole for she is the sweetest Mamma a Man could have, or you, Sweetness, too.

The Company of Kedron hath a new Recruit who is somewhat extraordinary & it happened this Way. Yesterday Evening, we having some several Hours still to march before we reached the Encampment at Cambridge, we halted for the Night & pitched tents near an Inn in this town; and my Brother Soldiers retiring for Refreshment in the Tavern, I followed. There we all boughten our Cup of Flip & we raised a bumper Toast of Health to the King & Long Life, & Confusion to Parliament & the King’s Ministers & the E. India Company that Own Them, & may they all die Penniless &c.

There was Music, & it was a Fiddler played an Irish Jig, and we would have thought no more on it, if he had not played it so slow, so doleful, that it set a perpetual Gloom over the Company. And it was not simply one Tune he played thus, for faith, every Dance he played thereafter was like to set us all a-weeping.

He was a Negro Youth, a Tall, Gawky Thing, and he played upon a Fiddle built, I would hazard, from two Gourds & a discarded Peg-Leg, but, Shun, he played like a Seraph — a Disconsolate Seraph. Capt. Draper, he opined it was sure the sweetest Music he had heard.

We was all somewhat Awed by his Solemnity & thinking of Home & our Danger but the Innkeeper did not hold that good for Custom & spake, “Oy, Mungo — you heard of Lilt? Or is it all yammer yammer yammer with you?” upon which the Boy stopped with his Bow, and waited for Instruction. Mine Host demanded something we could dance to, if we would; & not gouge our Eyes out with the Cutlery.

Upon which Witticism all the Patrons laughed; and the Boy, somewhat confused, blushed & placed the Bow on his Fiddle, & drew it across in a fine Shake; following which, he played a pleasant Song by one of the old Italians — or mayhap Germans — or some other People — which Song silenced the Crowds, for soon there was a Tear in all our Eyes.

Still, however, Mine Host expressed no Satisfaction, and said it was all too Dolorous, and that the Boy should get no Supper, at which the Boy looked with Supplication & Humility & said he had played all the Evening through. Capt. Draper could not countenance the Boy’s Hunger & so he said, “Sir, I shall pay for the Boy’s Supper,” & requested the Boy to play the Song again, which the Boy did, & the Sound, even on so mean an Instrument, was delightful, full of curious Turns and hearty Lamentation.

And when we saw the Boy turned out of doors to sleep in the Stable, coughing prodigiously from a Chill he had caughten, his Head bowed as he went . . . When I shall tell you that from our Camp, we heard him coughing without Respite and went down to view him, & found him being chided by the Innkeeper for waking the Patrons (no more pathetic a Sight could be imagined) . . . When I shall tell you this, Shun, your generous Heart shall not question that we considered Means by which we might relieve him of his Suffering.

’Twas I came upon the Notion that he might serve us as Musician, our only Music being John upon the Drum, who keeps not so good Time. This Proposal being applauded by the Rest, excepting John, we petitioned Capt. Draper (Kindest of Men!) & he heard of the Indignity this Boy suffered and said such should not happen in a Land roused for Liberty.

This Morning Capt. Draper spake to the Innkeep of hiring away the Negro & then spake to the Boy himself, telling him of coming Liberty; of the Need to stand with his Brother Man & resist the Tyranny of Those Who Own Us All, Slave & Free Alike; that Parliament are Protectors of the Slave-Trade, having Interests in it; that, can we Sting Parliament, they shall no longer think so easily to rob us, & we shall have Government founded not on Piracy & Slavery, but the Rights of Englishmen; & other Fiery Words. Capt. Draper offered a small Sustenance & Pay for the Boy’s excellent Music, could he rally us upon the Fife. We gave him the Fife for Trial & he said that though he had but little Training upon that Instrument, he would assay it yet; & his Tunes on it was fine & crisp & we applauded, if only for the Festival Air of these Times, when an Innkeeper’s Boy shall be a Musician & a Peg-Leg be a Fiddle & a Cooper be a Soldier & a Slave a Free Man & ALL SHALL BE CHANGED. We having heard him play several Tunes, Capt. Draper clapped the Boy upon the Shoulder and said that his services should be of indispensable Utility.

“Utility,” says the Innkeep. “He speaks Latin. I beg you to find the Utility in that.”

But the Negro hath this Day as we marched provided us with much merry Music upon the Way.

Upon the Road, we passed a prodigious Number of Companies, & some went towards Cambridge & some away, & there seemed a great Confusion. When we was got to Menotomy, there was in the middle of the Road a Gentleman at a Desk. There was Papers on the Desk helt down with Rocks. The Gentleman asked us for Company and Regiment & marked them down on a Book & then clapped & a Boy came out of a Shed by the Side of the Road & took a Note from him & went into the Shed. Others came upon the Road & the Gentleman, knowing them, directed them to proceed, or to take some several Barrels which had been marked for them. There had been some Rain & the Earth of the Road was soft & his Desk was somewhat mired as he leaned upon it.

After perhaps a portion of an Hour, another Gentleman come out of the Shed and asked us, was we the Kedron Company, and Serj. Lammas replied we was, & this new Officer, who was some Muster-Master, directed us ride North to the Shore to a Town where we should find others of our New Hampshire Brethren and there await Orders.

So now we are come to the Shore and encamped & tomorrow after a short March shall gain our Goal, which is the Town of Dulwich.

’Tis now near time for Sleeping & so I shall end —

dreaming of my Home & my Sister,

           who am her Heroical Brother,

                               Private Evidence Goring

One final Word, Shun, which is that if you see Liz when the Girls gather to Clack, you might read her this Letter (excepting this Note) & mention how Fine a Brother I am & an excellent figure of a Man & invested in all Virtues &c. For this great Kindness, Sis, thank thee (if I may “thou” you), thou most Perfect of Sisters & thou most Sweet of Siblings & may Blessings settle like a Mess of Doves all over thy Hair. — yr Ev.