£l)c -farmer's iUoutijln llisitor. 



13 



reliels — Damn you. throw down your arms and 

 disperse," was tbe brother of his wife, lie re- 

 Intes that while this tragedy was acting and his 

 own relatives and friends were falling, bleeding 

 and dying under the murderous fire of the Brit- 

 ish regulars, he was at his new farm and settle- 

 ment .'it Ashliiirnham about fifty miles distant 

 anil then considered far in the woods. The 

 spunky settlers of the new town had only to 

 hear the news to prepare for the conflict. In 

 two days after tlie battle, John Adams, as one 

 of the company of Capt. Deliverance Davis, was 

 on the march to Lexington to remain where 

 danger was apprehended " until the matter was 

 settled." On his way at Concord lie saw the 

 blood in the pathway that flowed from the 

 bosom of the gallant Capt. Davis id' Acton re- 

 sisting the enemy at tin- head of his company at 

 the bridge over Concord liver. The men killed 

 there and at Lexington had all been buried ; hut 

 be saw ill the house when: his wife was born 

 tin' coat of her brother hanging liji pierced with 

 four bullets. Further on a few miles at Menolo- 

 niy, ihi'ii a part of Cambridge, In: entered the 

 house ul' his uncle D.-ae. Joseph Adams, which 

 had been rifled and set on lire by the British. 

 One Antil Gallup, (be informed us) a tory, hav- 

 ing a .strong antipathy to the Deacon, was at the 

 lime supposed to have pointed out his bouse for 

 the vengeance of the British: the Deacon was 

 at that time, in a somewhat advanced period of 

 lili-, a non-combatant. His family consisted of 

 full en children, four by tno first and eleven by a 

 second wife. The youngest (now the wife of 

 Ja iii's Hill, Esq. of West Cambridge) was then not 

 a fortnight old. The enemy approaching his house 

 with evident purpose of hostility, Deac. A, told 

 his wife that if he left, sin: might he saved — if 

 be tarried, both might be destroyed. In bis 

 bouse upon the same side of the way a short 

 distance below, tin- venerable Jason Russell was 

 literally butchered while sitting in his own chair 

 in no offensive attitude from which he finally re- 

 solved he should not retreat as to a better place 

 of protection. D.-ae. A. had not left his wife 

 five minutes, going into a compact wood in the 

 rear of the house, before the British soldiery en- 

 tered : they rifled the house of the church plate 

 for tin: communion service in the custody of the 

 Deacon, and other valuables — lie", drove .Mrs. A. 

 with her young child out id' the house, scattered 

 tbe family of children frightened like so many 

 young partridges, and set the lower front room 

 on lire with such combustibles as weie at hand. 

 The daughter by lire elder wife, some fourteen 

 years of age, taking upon herself the hard labor 

 of the family, bad tubs of suds left of the wash 

 of that forenoon, and saved the house by putting 

 out the fire, not until it had burnt through the 

 floor to the cellar, and chalked with blackness 

 the wooden summer and chamber floor over 

 head. The army was moving down at the lime 

 of these outrages, and fought the ground all the 

 way through the high road leading over the 

 MeilOtomy plain. The old Adams house and 

 the Dr. Wier house, riddled with bullets, stand 

 to ibis day in the near vici lity : Dear. Adams' 

 bouse was some half a mile above the meeting 

 house of Dr. Cooke on the Lexington road. 



Mr. Adams was absent from Ashbumham on 

 this expedition four weeks — just long enough to 

 escape being present at the time of the buttle Ol 

 Bunker Hill on the 17th June following. 



lie was again in the public service and march- 

 ed to New York in the summer of 1776. George 



Wood was his ea| lain: Col. Sawyer. Maj. Rand 

 and Adjutant Coliant were of his regiment : his 

 corps was within hearing, hut not actually en- 

 gaged in the battle of White Plains. 



lie rallied willl those armed men who went 

 over the Green Mountains in 1777, and on the 

 way met the news of Burgoyne's surrender: he 

 was with the military guard at Winter bill near 

 Boston on the arrival there of the captured army 

 of British and Hessians at Saratoga. His actual 

 proved service as a military man was a little less 

 than six mouths: in one year, detained lit home 

 by the necessities of his family, he hind and 

 paid for the services of a substitute. Indeed 

 either while he was absent at Lexington or in a 

 very few days after, his wile in ihe new settle- 

 ment gave birth to her second child. 



In relating these and other events under a 

 most clear recollection was the day taken up of 

 our visit to Ihe veteran. He retired alone to his 

 own apartment and to his repose soon alter sun- 

 down. Next morning be arose and left his room 

 dressed soon after sun-rising. He was evidently 

 not as vigorous as on the preceding day : we 

 supposed the excitement from the presence of 

 one who had occupied bis thoughts with no ex- 

 pectation of meeting, his over-taxed recollection 

 and conversation must have exhausted him. He 

 proceeded however to the washing sink and 

 bow I, and with drawn tip sleeves washed hands 

 and face as he bad done after rising before thou- 

 sands of times — his hair, not yet entirely whit- 

 ened, hut thick over the head like that of a 

 strong man in health, was carefully adjusted and 

 parted on the forehead in ihe way it should lay. 

 We asked hiin how he had rested. He answer- 

 ed not as well as usual: be had slept for a few 

 hours after retiring, hut he was disturbed in 

 dreams of past events, in confused contact with 

 acquaintance of ihe olden time, which prevented 

 ihe usual sound sleep that had attended him so 

 many vears. Alier he had sat down and finished 

 breakfast, he said he felt now that a recent 

 change was going over his memory — that bis 

 faculties failed him: us evidence of this be said 

 that when conversed with be found the questions 

 passing out of bis head before the mind could 

 grasp them for an answer. We answered him 

 that the very consciousness of his weakened 

 faculties was proof that the power of true ex- 

 ercise of the intellect was not deserting him. 



But it was at the moment before leaving him 

 forever, that our admiration and reverence for 

 the patriarchal relative was raised to the highest 

 pitch. 'I'le- letter written him which drew forth 

 the last considerable effort he ever made to col- 

 lect his ideas upon paper, his son informed i>^, 

 was received by him with an unwonted enthusi- 

 asm: he read it and scanned it I'm' the entire 

 forenoon. And alter candle-light of ihe same 

 evening be retired from company to re-peruse 

 die letter. The writer who had winked a field 

 when a boy with the then aged man, talking ol 

 history, of the revolution and the men known to 

 him early as figuring either in the field or in Ihe 

 civil service before the country, had in this let- 

 ter, written nearly hall' a century afterwards, 

 Stricken a cord in the old genllcmaii's mind that 

 was perhaps unlike all his late experience. We 

 had gone away from him soon after: good and 

 had forlunc had accompanied US. We had gain- 

 ed the favor and the knowledge of the' C nu- 

 llity into w Inch w e removed, making Us more 

 conspicuous before the public, hut perhaps not 

 more useful, than the man of unceasing personal 



manual labor: he thought we might forget the 

 early little evems that wound him and his ex- 

 cellent wife around the heart of our childhood. 

 Me was elated at the particulars w hieh our letter 

 ■:ave him: his son said that for mouths after- 

 wards he talked more of his last correspondent 



than of all his oilier relativi his children yet 



living and bis many grandchildren. Standing 

 with his hand in ours, with a condensation of 

 language beautiful and comprehensive — in words 

 that we would give much to remember exactly 

 as they were spoken — he pronounced on us his 

 benediction in substance as follows, writing it 

 down as we did, not according with his words, 

 hut with bis ideas, the fust opportunity after the 

 hasty parting with bis son who curried us hack 

 lo the stage house j'ist in lime nut to miss it. 



"My prayer for you to God is, that you may 

 have health and live long; that you may be 

 happy and useful while you live ; that you may 

 die in peace and enter with joy and rejoicing 

 ii.io a happy future slate." 



Piety to God and love and kindness to man 

 were the living characteristics of this good old 

 man: in an excellent good neighhoi hood he 

 passed about sixty years often marked as a peace- 

 maker and philanthropist, beloved and respected 

 by all. His was a life of work peculiar to the 

 necessities of the times in which he lived. Few 

 if any men of Ihe country labored as many hours 

 in a humble calling — he was a worker for at 

 least one bundled years. [lis parting words 

 were to us like "apples of gold in pictures of 

 silver" — they came to tis as if they weie the 

 words of inspiration through a source where 

 humanity could speak to us hut once of this 

 life. 



Since we parted another birth-day' was passed 

 by this good old man, who has since given up 

 the L'host and gone to his rest. Three several 

 letters from Harford tell the story of his demise. 

 The report of tin.- death of a person of the same 

 siruaine a few weeks after we left induced us to 

 write his son to ascertain Ihe fact. ()u the first 

 of January the son wrote that tbe report of his 

 death was not true. '■ lie is now living ami so 

 that he walks about. I can see that he fails: he 

 may live some time yet. He does not read so 

 much as ho did. last year, but he is now reading 

 bis bible, lie has had a number of poor turns 

 since you was here." In another letter dated 

 t'eh. 21, written at tin: anxious n quest of the old 

 gentleman, Mr. Adams informs us that bis father 

 was alive and comfortable as could he expected, 

 although quite feeble, "lie sends his love and 

 respects to you, and says that he should like In 

 see \ou once more, hut thinks it doubtful." lie 

 lived only five days alier the writing of this let- 

 ter. The next communication dated .March Dili, 

 1849, announces bis demise as follows : 



"My dear friend— a! this time I will inform 

 you ol' ihe death of my honored father. The 

 twenty-sixth day of f'-hriiar at eight o'clock in 

 ihe afternoon his spirit took its flight to ihe (Sod 

 who gave it — March |sr, bis body was returned 

 to the earth from whence it came.'' 



The letter relates ihe manner of his death as 

 follows: In ihe morning he rose and dressed as 

 usual, and ate break!:.-', his SOU noting at the 

 same lime an nlte:ed appearance. About noon 

 he seemed io h ,ve nervous writhing* — at dinner 

 he swallowed hot two or ihree spoonful.-', and 

 desisted, saying be wanted no mine. In ihe af- 

 ternoon he laid down and slept as easy as had 



been usual. In his changed condition bis gr I- 



son Jonas came in and offered to watch Willi 

 him through the night. Noticing a diffi rent 



