History of the Loyalists: Lieut. James Moody's Narrative

Year
1893
Month
10
Day
13
Article Title
History of the Loyalists: Lieut. James Moody's Narrative
Author
James Hannay
Page Number
1
Article Type
Language
Article Contents
HISTORY OF THE LOYALISTS LIEUT. JAMES MOODY'S NARRATIVE Of His Exertions and Sufferings in the Cause of the Government Since the Year 1776. [Continued.] In the beginning of May 1778, he was again sent into the interior parts of the rebel country, with orders to remain there as long as he could, to render such service to government and its friends as he should have an opportunity for; and more especially, to obtain precise intelligence from Colonel Butler then supposed to be at Niagara. He employed a trusty Loyalist to go out to Colone1 Butler, who fell in with him between Niagara and Wyoming, and was with him at the reduction of this last mentioned fortress; and afterwards along with another of Mr. Moody’s men (who, having been driven from him, in the disaster just related, had gone back, and staid with Colonel Butler all the winter, as the only place of safety he could find) he returned with the necessary information; with which they all went back and reported them at headquarters. In this interval Mr. Moody took prisoner a Mr. Martin, chief commissioner in that district for the telling of confiscated estates, a man remarkable for his spite and cruelty to the friends of government. It was very mortifying to Mr. Moody to have this man rescued from him by a large body of the militia after having had him in his custody about 48 hours. But he relates with pleasure that the incident had a good effect on this furious oppressor, inasmuch as his behavior to his loyal neighbors was ever after much more mild and humane. On the 10th of June 1779, an opportunity of rendering some service to his country now offering, having first requested Mr. Hutcheson and six men and some guides to be of the party; he marched with 16 of his own men from Sandy Hook to Shrewsbury. They eluded the vigilance of a rebel guard, and gained a place called The Falls. Here they surprised and took prisoners one colonel, one lieutenant-colonel, one major and two captains, with several other prisoners of inferior note; and without injuring any private property destroyed a considerable magazine of powder and arms. With these prisoners, and such public stores as they were able to bring ff, Mr. Hutcheson was charged, whilst Mr. Moody brought up the rear with 16 men to defend them. They were, as they had expected, soon pursued by double their number and overtaken. Mr. Moody kept up a smart fire on his assailants checking and retarding them till Mr. Hutcheson with their booty had got ahead to a considerable distance. He then also advanced making for the next advantageous station; and thus proceeded from one spot to another still covering the prisoners, till they had gained a situation on the shore at Black Point where the enemy could not flank them. But just at this time the pursuers were reinforced with 10 men! So that they were now 40 strong. Mr. Hutcheson with one man crossed the inlet, behind which he had taken shelter, and came to Mr. Moody’s assistance; and now a warm engagement ensued that lasted for three-quarters of an hour. By this time all their ammunition amounting to upwards of 80 rounds of cartridge was expended; and 10 men only, three of whom were wounded, were in any capacity to follow their leader to the charge. The bayonet was their only resource, but this the enemy could not withstand; they fled, leaving 11 of their number killed or wounded. Unfortunately Mr. Moody’s small but gallant party could not follow up their blow; being in a manner, utterly exhausted by a long harassed march, in weather intensely hot. They found the rebel captain dead, and their lieutenant also expiring on the field. There was something peculiarly shocking in the death of the former. He was shot by Mr. Moody whilst with the most bitter oaths and threats of vengeance, after having missed once he was again levelling his piece at him. Soon after this engagement, one of the party came forwards with an handkerchief flying from a stick, and demanded a parley. His signal was returned signifying the willingness of the Loyalists to treat with him; and a truce was speedily agreed on; the conditions of which were: That they should have leave to take care of their dead and wounded; whilst Mr. Moody’s party was permitted, unmolested to return to the British lines. Happily none of the wounds which any of his men received in this expedition proved mortal. The public stores which they brought away with them (besides those which they had destroyed) sold for upwards of £500 sterling; and every shilling of this money was given by Mr. Moody to the men as a small reward for their very meritorious conduct. About the middle of October following, Mr. Moody was again sent into the interior parts of the rebel country to obtain intelligence respecting Washington’s army. He succeeded, and his intelligence was communicated to General Pattison. Again about the middle of November he was desired to find out the situation and circumstances of an army under the rebel General Sullivan, which had lately been on an expedition to the westward against the Indians. Accordingly he went 80 miles into Pennsylvania, close by Sullivan’s camp; and obtained an exact account of the number of men and horses with which he went out from Easton on this Indian expedition, and the number also that he returned with. From thence he went to Morris county, where Washington then lay with his army. And here he had the good fortune to obtain from their own books an account of the rations which were drawn for them. He next went to Pumpton, where General Gates then was, on his march to the southward, and here also he gained the most exact information not only of the amount of the force then with him, but of the numbers that were expected to join him. And now having pretty well gone through the business entrusted to him, he returned to New York, and continued there till next year. In May 1780, he took with him four trusty men, and went into the rebel country with the intention of surprising Governor Livingston, a man whose conduct had been in the most abandoned degree cruel and oppressive to the loyal inhabitants of New Jersey. When with all necessary secrecy, Mr. Moody had got into his immediate neighborhood, information was received that Mr. Livingstone was gone to Trenton to meet the assembly; and that on his return he was to see some persons on business at an appointed place. This made it necessary for the ensign to alter his measures, as he did immediately. He led his party into Sussex county, and there left them; himself only retiring to a proper situation, till his plan should be ripe for execution. Being under the necessity of again returning into Sussex before anything could be done, he had the mortification to find that one of his men had been taken prisoner by a rebel major of the name of Hoops, who extorted a confession from him that Moody was in the country, and as he imagined in quest of some person of note, who lived near Morris Town. This blasted the whole project; the intelligence was instantly sent to Livingstone, who too justly, concluded himself to be the person aimed at; and of course took every precaution to prevent a surprise. Still however Mr. Moody flattered himself he should yet be more fortunate, and do something notwithstanding the alarm that was now spread through the country. The first plausible thing that offered was a plan to blow up the magazine at Suckasunne about 16 miles back of Morris Town; but this also proved abortive; for notwithstanding his having prevailed on some British prisoners, taken with General Burgoyne, to join him in his enterprise the alarm was now become so general, and the terror so great, that they had increased their guard around this magazine to the number of 100 and up wards; so that he was under the necessity of abandoning his project. Returning again into Sussex county, he now heard that several prisoners were confined on various suspicions and charges of loyalty, in the jail of that county, and that one of them was actually under sentence of death. This poor fellow was one of Burgoyne’s soldiers, charged with crimes of a civil nature of which, however, he was generally believed to be innocent. But when a clergyman of the Church of England interposed with his unrelenting prosecutor, and warmly urged the plea of innocence, he was sharply told, that though he might not perhaps deserve to die for the crime for which he had been committed, there could be no doubt of his deserving to die as an enemy to America. There was something so piteous as well as shameful in the case of this ill-fated victim to republican resentment, that it was determined, if possible, to release both him and his fellow prisoners. For this purpose Mr. Moody took with him six men; and late at night, entered the county town about 70 miles from New York. The inhabitants of the town were but too generally disaffected. This suggested the necessity of stratagem. Coming to the jail, the keeper called out from the window of an upper room and demanded what their business was? The ensign Instantly replied: "He had a prisoner to deliver into his custody." "What! One of Moody’s fellows?" said the jailor. "Yes," said the ensign. On their enquiring what the name of this supposed prisoner was, one of the party, who was well known by the inhabitants of that place to be with Mr. Moody, personated the character of a prisoner, and spoke for himself. The jailor gave him a little ill language; but notwithstanding seemed highly pleased with the idea of his having to notorious a Tory in his custody. On the ensign urging him to come down and take charge of the man, he peremptorily refused; alleging that in consequence of Moody’s being out, he had received strict orders to open his doors to no man after sunset; and that therefore he must wait till morning. Finding that this tale would not take, the ensign now changed his note; and in a stern voice told him, "Sirrah, the man who now speaks to you is Moody; I have a strong party with me; and if you do not this moment deliver up your keys, I will instantly pull down your house about your ears. The jailer vanished in a moment. On this Mr. Moody’s men, who were well skilled in the Indian war-whoop, made the air resound with such a variety of hideous yells as soon left them nothing to fear from the inhabitants of New Town, which though the county town, consists only of 20 or 30 houses. "The Indians! the Indians are come!"—said the panic-struck people; and happy were they who could soonest escape into the woods. While these things were thus going on, the -ensign had made his way through a casement, and was met by a prisoner, whom he immediately employed to procure him a light. The vanished jailor was now again produced; and most obsequiously conducted Mr. Moody to the dungeon of the poor wretch under sentence of death. It may seem incredible, but it is an undoubted fact that notwithstanding all the horrors and awfulness of his situation, this poor, forlorn, condemned British soldier was found fast asleep; and had slept so sound, as to have heard nothing of the uproar or alarm. There is no possibility of describing the agony of this man, when on being thus suddenly aroused, he saw before him a man in arms, attended by persons whom, though they were familiarly known to him, so agitated were his spirits, he was utterly at a loss then to recognize. The first and the only idea that occurred to him was, that as many of the friends of government had been privately executed in prison the person he saw was his executioner. On Mr. Moody’s repeatedly informing him of his mistake, and that he was come to release him in the name of King George, the transition from such an abyss of wretchedness to so extravagant a pitch of joy had well nigh overcome him. Never before had the writer been present at so affecting a scene. The image of the poor soldier, alternately agitated with the extremes of despair and rapture, is at this moment present to his imagination, as strong almost as if the object were still before him; and he has often thought there are few subjects on which a painter of taste and sensibility could more happily employ his pencil. The man looked wild, and undoubtedly was wild and hardly in his tenses and yet he labored, and was big with some of the noblest sentiments and most powerful passions by which the human mind is ever actuated. In such circumstances it was with some difficulty that the ensign got him away. At length, however, his clothes were got on, and he with all the rest who choose to avail themselves of the opportunity were conducted into safety, notwithstanding a warm pursuit of several days. The humane reader, Mr. Moody persuades himself, will not be less affected than he himself was at the mournful sequel of this poor soldier’s tale. In the course of the war he was again taken, and again conducted to the dungeon, and afterwards actually executed on the same sentence on which he had been before convicted, though he left the world with the most solemn asseverations of his innocence, as to any crime of which he had been accused, excepting only an unshaken allegiance to his sovereign. [To be continued.]