ON the 5th of March, 1851, the following petition was presented to the Massachusetts Legislature, asking an appropriation of $1,500, for the erection of a monument to

the memory of CRISPUS ATTUCKS, the first martyr in the Boston Massacre of March 5th, 1770:--

To the Honorable the Senate and House of Representatives of the State of Massachusetts, in General Court assembled:

        The undersigned, citizens of Boston, respectfully ask that an appropriation of fifteen hundred dollars may be made by your Honorable Body, for a monument to be erected to the memory of CRISPUS ATTUCKS, the first martyr of the American Revolution.

WILLIAM C. NELL,
CHARLES LENOX REMOND,
HENRY WEEDEN,
LEWIS HAYDEN,
FREDERICK G. BARBADOES,
JOSHUA B. SMITH,
LEMUEL BURR.

        This petition was referred to the Committee on Military Affairs, who granted a bearing to the petitioners, in whose behalf appeared Wendell Phillips, Esq., and William C. Nell, but finally submitted an adverse report, on the ground that a boy, Christopher Snyder, was previously killed. Admitting this fact, (which was the result of a very different scene from that in which Attucks fell,) it does not offset the claims of Attucks, and those who made the 5th of March famous in our annals the day which history selects as the dawn of the American Revolution.

        Botta's History, and Hewes's Reminiscences (the tea party survivor), establish the fact that the colored man, ATTUCKS,

was of and with the people, and was never regarded otherwise.

        Botta, in speaking of the scenes of the 5th of March, says:--"The people were greatly exasperated. The multitude ran towards King street, crying, 'Let us drive out these ribalds; they have no business here!' The rioters rushed furiously towards the Custom House; they approached the sentinel, crying, 'Kill him, kill him!' They assaulted him with snowballs, pieces of ice, and whatever they could lay their hands upon. The guard were then called, and, in marching to the Custom House, they encountered," continues Botta, "a band of the populace, led by a mulatto named ATTUCKS, who brandished their clubs, and pelted them with snowballs. The maledictions, the imprecations, the execrations of the multitude, were horrible. In the midst of a torrent of invective from every quarter, the military were challenged to fire. The populace advanced to the points of their bayonets. The soldiers appeared like statues; the cries, the howlings, the menaces, the violent din of bells still sounding the alarm, increased the confusion and the horrors of these moments; at length, the mulatto and twelve of his companions, pressing forward, environed the soldiers, and striking their muskets with their clubs, cried to the multitude: 'Be not afraid; they dare not fire: why do you hesitate, why do you not kill them, why not crush them at once?' The mulatto lifted his arm against Capt. Preston, and having turned one of the muskets, he seized the bayonet with his left hand, as if he intended

to execute his threat. At this moment, confused cries were heard: 'The wretches dare not fire!' Firing succeeds. ATTUCKS is slain. The other discharges follow. Three were killed, five severely wounded, and several others slightly."

        ATTUCKS had formed the patriots in Dock Square, from whence they marched up King street, passing through the street up to the main guard, in order to make the attack.

        ATTUCKS was killed by Montgomery, one of Capt. Preston's soldiers. He had been foremost in resisting, and was first slain. As proof of a front engagement, he received two balls, one in each breast.

        John Adams, counsel for the soldiers, admitted that Attucks appeared to have undertaken to be the hero of the night, and to lead the people. He and Caldwell, not being residents of Boston, were both buried from Faneuil Hall. The citizens generally participated in the solemnities.

        The Boston Transcript of March 7, 1851, published an anonymous communication, disparaging the whole affair; denouncing CRISPUS ATTUCKS as a very firebrand of disorder and sedition, the most conspicuous, inflammatory, and uproarious of the misguided populace, and who, if he had not fallen a martyr, would richly have deserved hanging as an incendiary.^* If the leader, ATTUCKS, deserved the epithets above applied, is it not a legitimate inference, that the citizens who followed on are included, and hence should swing in his company on the gallows? If the leader and his patriot

        * The Transcript of March 5th, 1855, honorably alludes to CRISPUS ATTUCKS.

band were misguided, the distinguished orators who, in after days, commemorated the 5th of March, must, indeed, have been misguided, and with them, the masses who were inspired by their eloquence; for John Hancock, in 1774, invokes the injured shades of Maverick, Gray, Caldwell, ATTUCKS, Carr; and Judge Dawes, in 1775, thus alludes to the band of "misguided incendiaries":--"The provocation of that night must be numbered among the master-springs which gave the first motion to a vast machinery,--a noble and comprehensive system of national independence."

        Ramsay's History of the American Revolution, Vol. I., p. 22, says--"The anniversary of the 5th of March was observed with great solemnity; eloquent orators were successively employed to preserve the remembrance of it fresh in the mind. On these occasions, the blessings of liberty, the horrors of slavery, and the danger of a standing army, were presented to the public view. These annual orations administered fuel to the fire of liberty, and kept it burning with an irresistible flame."

        The 5th of March continued to be celebrated for the above reasons, until the Anniversary of the Declaration of American Independence was substituted in its place; and its orators were expected to honor the feelings and principles of the former as having given birth to the latter.

        On the 5th of March, 1776, Washington repaired to the intrenchments. "Remember," said he, "it is the 5th of March, and avenge the death of your brethren!"

        In judging, then, of the merits of those who launched

the American Revolution, we should not take counsel from the Tories of that or the present day, but rather heed the approving eulogy of Lovell, Hancock, and Warren.

        Welcome, then, be every taunt that such correspondents may fling at ATTUCKS and his company, as the best evidence of their merits and their strong claim upon our gratitude! Envy and the foe do not labor to traduce any but prominent champions of a cause.

        The rejection of the petition was to be expected, if we accept the axiom that a colored man never gets justice done him in the United States, except by mistake. The petitioners only asked for justice, and that the name of CRISPUS ATTUCKS might be honored as a grateful country honors other gallant Americans.

        And yet, let it be recorded, the same session of the Legislature which had refused the ATTUCKS monument, granted one to ISAAC DAVIS, of Concord. Both were promoters of the American Revolution, but one was white, the other was black; and this is the only solution to the problem why justice was not fairly meted out.

        In April, 1851, Thomas Sims, a fugitive slave from Georgia, was returned to bondage from the city of Boston, and on Friday, June 2d, 1854, Anthony Burns, a fugitive from Virginia, was dragged back to slavery,--both marching over the very ground that ATTUCKS trod. Among the allusions to the man, and the associations clustering around King street of the past and State street of the present, the following are selected. The first is from a speech of the

Hon. ANSON BURLINGAME, in Faneuil Hall, Oct. 13, 1852, on the rendition of Thomas Sims:--

        "The conquering of our New England prejudices in favor of liberty 'does not pay.' It 'does not pay,' I submit, to plat our fellow-citizens under practical martial law; to beat the drum in our streets; to clothe our temples of justice in chains, and to creep along, by the light of the morning star, over the ground wet with the blood of CRISPUS ATTUCKS, the noble colored man, who fell in King street before the muskets of tyranny, away in the dawn of our Revolution; creep by Faneuil Hall, silent and dark; by the Green Dragon, where that noble mechanic, Paul Revere, once mustered the sons of liberty; within sight of Bunker Hill, where was first unfurled the glorious banner of our country; creep along, with funeral pace, bearing a brother, a man made in the image of God, not to the grave,--O, that were merciful, for in the grave there is no work and no device, and the voice of a master never comes,--but back to the degradation of a slavery which kills out of a living body an immortal soul. O, where is the man now, who took part in that mournful transaction, who would wish, looking back upon it, to avow it!"

        "Thousands of agitated people came out to see the preacher [Burns] led off to slavery, over the spot where Hancock stood and ATTUCKS fell."^*

        "And at high 'change, over the spot where, on the 5th of March, 1770, fell the first victim in the Boston Massacre,--where the negro blood of CHRISTOPHER ATTUCKS stained the ground,--over that spot, Boston authorities carried a citizen of Massachusetts to Alexandria as a slave."^**

        "A short distance from that sacred edifice, [Faneuil Hall,] and between it and the Court House, where the disgusting rites of sacrificing a human being to slavery were lately performed, was the spot which was first moistened with American blood in resisting slavery, and among the first victims was a colored person."^*

        "Nearly all those who had watched the trial of poor Burns, who heard his doom, saw the slave-guard march from the Court House, that had been closed so long, through State street, swept as if by a pestilence, down to the vessel that, under our flag, bore him out of the Bay the Pilgrims entered, into captivity, would rather have looked on a funeral procession, rather have heard the rattling of British guns again . . . . . Sad, shocking, was the sight of the harmless, innocent victim of all that mighty machinery, as he passed down Queen's street and King's street, all hung in mourning. Better to have seen the halter and the coffin for a criminal again paraded through our streets, than the cutlasses and the cannon for him. As he went down to the dock into which the tea was thrown, the spirits that lingered about the spots he passed vanished and fled, whilst dire and frightful images arose in their place."^**

        HENRY HILL, a colored man, and a Revolutionary Soldier, died in Chilicothe, on the 12th of August, 1833, aged eighty years. He was buried with the honors of war,--a singular tribute of respect to the memory of a colored man, but no doubt richly merited in this case. Henry, I should infer from an obituary notice in the Chilicothe Advertiser, was at the battle of Lexington, Brandywine, Monmouth, Princeton, and Yorktown.

Brave Colored Artillerist. Page 23.

Peter Salem, the Colored American, at Bunker Hill. Page 21.

        Swett, in his "Sketches of Bunker Hill Battle," alludes to the presence of a colored man in that fight. He says:-- "Major Pitcairn caused the first effusion of blood at Lexington. In that battle, his horse was shot under him, while he was separated from his troops. With presence of mind, he feigned himself slain; his pistols were taken from his holsters, and he was left for dead, when he seized the opportunity, and escaped. He appeared at Bunker Hill, and, says the historian, 'Among those who mounted the works was the gallant Major Pitcairn, who exultingly cried out, "The day is ours!" when a black soldier named SALEM shot him through, and he fell. His agonized son received him in his arms, and tenderly bore him to the boats.' A contribution was made in the army for the colored soldier, and he was presented to Washington as having performed this feat."^*

        Besides SALEM, there were quite a number of colored soldiers at Bunker Hill. Among them, TITUS COBURN, ALEXANDER AMES, and BARZILAI LEW, all of Andover; and also CATO HOWE, of Plymouth,--each of whom received a pension. Lew was a fifer. His daughter, Mrs. Dalton, now lives within a few rods of the battle field.

        SEYMOUR BURR was a slave in Connecticut, to a brother of Col. Aaron Burr, from whom he derived his name. Though treated with much favor by his master, his heart

yearned for liberty, and he seized an occasion to induce several of his fellow slaves to escape in a boat, intending to join the British, that they might become freemen; but being pursued by their owners, armed with the implements of death, they were compelled to surrender.

        Burr's master, contrary to his expectation, did not inflict corporeal punishment, but reminded him of the kindness with which he had been treated, and asked what inducement he could have for leaving him. Burr replied, that he wanted his liberty. His owner finally proposed, that if he would give him the bounty money, he might join the American army, and at the end of the war be his own man. Burr, willing to make any sacrifice for his liberty, consented, and served faithfully during the campaign, attached to the Seventh Regiment, commanded by Colonel, afterwards Governor Brooks, of Medford. He was present at the siege of Fort Catskill, and endured much suffering from starvation and cold. After some skirmishing, the army was relieved by the arrival of Gen. Washington, who, as witnessed by him, shed tears of joy on finding them unexpectedly safe.

        Burr married one of the Punkapog tribe of Indians, and settled in Canton, Mass. He received a pension from Government. His widow died in 1852, aged over one hundred years.

        JEREMY JONAH served in the same Regiment, (Col. Brooks's,) at the same time with Seymour Burr. The two veterans used to make merry together in recounting their military adventures, especially the drill on one occasion,

when Jonah stumbled over a stone heap; for which he was severely caned by the Colonel. He drew a pension.

        LEMUEL BURR, (grandson of Seymour,) a resident of Boston, often speaks of their reminiscences of DEBORAH GANNETT. In confirmation of this part of their history, I give the following extract from the Resolves of the General court of Massachusetts during the session of 1791:--

        XXIII.--Resolve on the petition of DEBORAH GANNETT, granting her £34 for services in the Continental Army. January 20,1792.

        On the petition of DEBORAH GANNETT, praying for compensation for services performed in the late army of the United States:

        Whereas, it appears to this Court that the said DEBORAH GANNETT enlisted, under the name of Robert Shurtliff, in Capt. Webb's company, in the 4th Massachusetts Regiment, on May 20th, 1782, and did actually perform the duty of a soldier, in the late army of the United States, to the 23d day of October, 1783, for which she has received no compensation; and, whereas, it further appears that the said Deborah exhibited an extraordinary instance of female heroism, by discharging the duties of a faithful gallant soldier, and at the same time preserving the virtue and chastity of her sex unsuspected and unblemished, and was discharged from the service with a fair and honorable character; therefore,

        Resolved, That the Treasurer of this Commonwealth be, and he hereby is, directed to issue his note to the said Deborah for the sum of thirty four pounds, bearing interest from Oct. 23, 1783.

        Joshua B. Smith has stated to me that he was present at a company of distinguished Massachusetts men, when the conversation turned upon the exploits of Revolutionary times; and that the late Judge Story related an incident of

a colored Artillerist who, while having charge of a cannon with a white fellow soldier, was wounded in one arm. He immediately turned to his comrade, and proposed changing his position, exclaiming that he had yet one arm left with which he could render some service to his country. The change proved fatal to the heroic soldier, for another shot from the enemy killed him upon the spot. Judge Story furnished other incidents of the bravery of colored soldiers, adding, that he had often thought them and their descendants too much neglected, considering the part they had sustained in the wars; and he regretted that he did not, in early life, gather the facts into a shape for general information.

        The late Governor Eustis, of Massachusetts, the pride and boast of the Democracy of the East, himself an active participant in the war, and therefore a most competent witness, states that the free colored soldiers entered the ranks with the whites. The time of those who were slaves was purchased of their masters, and they were induced to enter the service in consequence of a law of Congress, by which, on condition of their serving in the ranks during the war, they were made freemen. This hope of liberty inspired them with fresh courage to oppose their breasts to the Hessian bayonet at Red Bank, and enabled them to endure with fortitude the cold and famine of Valley Forge.

        At the close of the Revolutionary War, John Hancock presented the colored company, called "the Bucks of America," with an appropriate banner, bearing his initials,

as a tribute to their courage and devotion throughout the struggle. The "Bucks," under the command of Colonel Middleton, were invited to a collation in a neighboring town, and, en route, were requested to halt in front of the Hancock Mansion, in Beacon street, where the Governor and his son united in the above presentation.

        LYDIA MARIA CHILD gives the following sketch of Col. MIDDLETON, commander of the "Bucks":--

        "Col. Middleton was not a very good specimen of the colored man. He was an old horse-breaker, who owned a house that he inhabited at the head of Belknap street. He was greatly respected by his own people, and his house was thronged with company. His morals were questioned,-- he was passionate, intemperate, and profane. We lived opposite to him for five years; during all this time, my father treated this old negro with uniform kindness. He had a natural compassion for the ignorant and the oppressed, and I never knew him fail to lift his hat to this old neighbor, and audibly say, with much suavity, 'How do you do, Col. Middleton?' or 'Good morning, colonel.' My father would listen to the dissonant sounds that came from an old violin that the colonel played on every summer's evening, and was greatly amused at his power in subduing mettlesome colts. He would walk over and compliment the colonel on his skill in his hazardous employment, and the colonel would, when thus praised, urge the untamed animal to some fearful caper, to show off his own bold

daring. Our negroes, for many years, were allowed peaceably to celebrate the abolition of the slave trade; but it became a frolic with the white boys to deride them on this day, and finally, they determined to drive them, on these occasions, from the Common. The colored people became greatly incensed by this mockery of their festival, and this infringement of their liberty, and a rumor reached us, on one of these anniversaries, that they were determined to resist the whites, and were going armed, with this intention. About three o'clock in the afternoon, a shout of a beginning fray reached us. Soon, terrified children and women ran down Belknap street, pursued by white boys, who enjoyed their fright. The sounds of battle approached; clubs and brickbats were flying in all directions. At this crisis, Col. Middleton opened his door, armed with a loaded musket, and, in a loud voice, shrieked death to the first white who should approach. Hundreds of human beings, white and black, were pouring down the street, the blacks making but a feeble resistance, the odds in numbers and spirit being against them. Col. Middleton's voice could be heard above every other, urging his party to turn and resist to the last. His appearance was terrific, his musket was levelled, ready to sacrifice the first white man that came within its range. The colored party, shamed by his reproaches, and fired by his example, rallied, and made a short show of resistance. Capt. Winslow Lewis and my father determined to try and quell this tumult. Capt. Lewis valiantly grappled with the

ringleaders of the whites, and my father coolly surveyed the scene from his own door, and instantly determined what to do. He calmly approached Col. Middleton, who called to him to stop, or he was a dead man! I can see my father at this distance of time, and never can forget the feelings his family expressed, as they saw him still approach this armed man. He put aside his musket, and, with his countenance all serenity, said a few soothing words to the colonel, who burst into tears, put up his musket, and, with great emotion, exclaimed, loud enough for us to hear across the street, 'I will do it for you, for you have always been kind to me,' and retired into his own house, and shut his door upon the scene."

        When a boy, living in West Boston, I was familiar with the person of "Big Dick," and have heard the following account of him (which is taken from the Boston Patriot) confirmed. It is not wholly out of place in this collection. "RICHARD SEAVERS," said that journal, a few days after his decease, "was a man of mighty mould." A short time previous to his death, be measured six feet five inches in height, and attracted much attention when seen in the street. He was born in Salem, or vicinity, and when about sixteen years old, went to England, where he entered the British navy. When the war of 1812 broke out, be would not fight against his country, gave himself up as an American citizen, and was made a prisoner of war.

        "A surgeon on board an American privateer, who experienced the tender mercies of the British Government in

Dartmoor prison, during the War of 1812, makes honorable mention of "King Dick," as be was there called:--

        " 'There are about four hundred and fifty negroes in prison No. 4, and this assemblage of blacks affords many curious anecdotes, and much matter for speculation. These blacks have a ruler among them, whom they call King Dick. He is by far the largest, and, I suspect, the strongest man in the prison. He is six feet five inches in height, and proportionably large. This black Hercules commands respect, and his subjects tremble in his presence. He goes the rounds every day, and visits every berth to see if they are all kept clean. When he goes the rounds, he puts on a large bearskin cap, and carries in his hand a huge club. If any of his men are dirty, drunken, or grossly negligent, he threatens them with a beating; and if they are saucy, they are sure to receive one. They have several times conspired against him, and attempted to dethrone him, but he has always conquered the rebels. One night, several attacked him, while asleep in his hammock; he sprang up and seized the smallest of them by his feet, and thumped another with him. The poor negro who had thus been made a beetle of was carried next day to the hospital, sadly bruised, and provokingly laughed at. This ruler of the blacks, this King Richard IV.; is a man of good understanding, and he exercises it to a good purpose. If any one of his color cheats, defrauds, or steals from his comrades, he is sure to be punished for it.' "

        CHARLES BOWLES, (says his biographer, Rev. John W. Lewis,) "was born in Boston, 1761. His father was an African; his mother was a daughter of the celebrated Col. Morgan, who was distinguished as an officer in the Rifle Corps of the American army, during the revolutionary struggle for independence. At the early age of twelve, he

was placed in the family of a Tory; but his young heart did not fancy his new situation, for at the tender age of fourteen, we find him serving in the colonial army, in the capacity of waiter to an officer. He remained in this situation for two years, and then enlisted,--a mere boy,--in the American army, to risk his life in defence of the holy cause of liberty. He served during the entire war, after which he went to New Hampshire, and engaged in agricultural pursuits. He succeeded in drawing a pension, became a Baptist preacher, and died March 16, 1843, aged 82."

        PRIMUS HALL, a native Bostonian, was the son of Prince Hall, founder of the Masonic Lodge of that name in Boston. Primus Hall was long known to the citizens as a soap-boiler. Besides his revolutionary services, be was among those who, in the war of 1812, repaired to Castle Island, in Boston Harbor, to assist in building fortifications.

        The following anecdote of Primus is extracted from Godey's Lady's Book for June, 1849, to which it was communicated by Rev. HENRY F. HARRINGTON:--

        "Throughout the Revolutionary War, PRIMUS HALL was the body servant of Col. PICKERING, of Massachusetts. He was free and communicative, and, delighted to sit down with an interested listener and pour out those stores of absorbing and exciting anecdotes with which his memory was stored.

        "It is well known that there was no officer in the whole American army whose memory was dearer to WASHINGTON, and whose counsel was more esteemed by him, than that of the honest and patriotic Col. PICKERING. He was on intimate

terms with him, and unbosomed himself to him with as little reserve as, perhaps, to any confidant in the army. Whenever he was stationed within such a distance as to admit of it, he passed many hours with the Colonel, consulting him upon anticipated measures, and delighting in his reciprocated friendship.

        "WASHINGTON was, therefore, often brought into contact with the servant of Col. PICKERING, the departed PRIMUS. An opportunity was afforded to the negro to note him, under circumstances very different from those in which he is usually brought before the public, and which possess, therefore, a striking charm. I remember two of these anecdotes from the mouth of PRIMUS. One of them is very slight, indeed, yet so peculiar as to be replete with interest. The authenticity of both may be fully relied upon.

        "WASHINGTON once came to Col. PICKERING'S quarters, and found him absent.

        " 'It is no matter,' said he to PRIMUS 'I am greatly in need of exercise. You must help me to get some before your master returns.'

        Under WASHINGTON'S directions, the negro busied himself in some simple preparations. A stake was driven into the ground about breast high, a rope tied to it, and then PRIMUS was desired to stand at some distance and hold it horizontally extended. The boys, the country over, are familiar with this plan of getting sport. With true boyish zest, WASHINGTON ran forwards and backwards for some time, jumping over the rope as he came and went, until he expressed himself satisfied with the 'exercise.'

        "Repeatedly afterwards, when a favorable opportunity offered, he would say--'Come, PRIMUS, I am in need of exercise;' whereat the negro would drive down the stake, and WASHINGTON would jump over the rope until he had exerted himself to his content.

        "On the second occasion, the great General was engaged in earnest consultation with Col. PICKERING in his tent until after the night had fairly set in. Head-quarters were at a considerable distance, and WASHINGTON signified his preference to staying with the Colonel over night, provided he had a spare blanket and straw.

        "O, yes,' said PRIMUS, who was appealed to; 'plenty of straw and blankets--plenty.'

        "Upon this assurance, WASHINGTON continued his conference with, the Colonel until it was time to retire to rest. Two humble beds were spread, side by side, in the tent, and the officers laid themselves down, while PRIMUS seemed to be busy with duties that required his attention before he himself could sleep. He worked, or appeared to work, until the breathing of the prostrate gentlemen satisfied him that they were sleeping; and then, seating himself upon a box or stool, he leaned his head on his hands to obtain such repose as so inconvenient a position would allow. In the middle of the night, WASHINGTON awoke. He looked about, and descried the negro as he sat. He gazed at him awhile, and then spoke.

        " 'PRIMUS!' said he, calling; 'PRIMUS!'

        "PRIMUS started up and rubbed his eyes. 'What, General?' said he.

        "WASHINGTON rose up in his bed, 'PRIMUS,' said he, 'what did you mean by saying that you had blankets and straw enough? Here you have given up your blanket and straw to me, that I may sleep comfortably, while you are obliged to sit through the night.'

        " 'It's nothing, General,' said PRIMUS. 'It's nothing. I'm well enough. Don't trouble yourself about me, General, but go to sleep again. No matter about me. I sleep very good.'

        " 'But it is matter--it is matter,' said WASHINGTON, earnestly. 'I cannot do it, PRIMUS. If either is to sit up, I will. But I think there is no need of either sitting up. The blanket is wide enough for two. Come and lie down here with me.'

        " 'O, no, General!' said PRIMUS, starting, and protesting against the proposition. 'No; let me sit here. I'll do very well on the stool.'

        " 'I say, come and lie down here!' said WASHINGTON, authoritatively. 'There is room for both, and I insist upon it!'

        He threw open the blanket as be spoke, and moved to one side of the straw. PRIMUS professes to have been exceedingly shocked at the idea of lying under the same covering with the commander-in-chief, but his tone was so resolute and determined that he could not hesitate. He prepared himself, therefore, and laid himself down by WASHINGTON, and on the same straw, and under the same blanket, the General and the negro servant slept until morning."

        JAMES EASTON, of Bridgewater, was one who participated in the erection of the fortifications on Dorchester Heights, under command of Washington, which the next morning so greatly surprised the British soldiers then encamped in Boston.

        Mr. Easton was a manufacturing blacksmith, and his forge and nail factory, where were also made edge tools and anchors, was extensively known, for its superiority of workmanship. Much of the iron work for the Tremont Theatre and Boston Marine Railway was executed under his supervision. Mr. Easton was self-educated. When a young man, stipulating for work, he always provided for chances of evening study. He was welcome to the business circles of Boston as a man of strict integrity, and the many who resorted to him for advice in complicated matters styled him "the Black Lawyer." His sons, Caleb, Joshua, Sylvanus, and Hosea, inherited his mechanical genius and mental ability.

        The family were victims, however, to the spirit of color-phobia, then rampant in New England, and were persecuted even to the dragging out of some of the family from the Orthodox Church, in which, on its enlargement, a porch had been erected, exclusively for colored people. After this disgraceful occurrence, the Easton's left the church. They afterwards purchased a pew in the Baptist church at Stoughton Corner, which excited a great deal of indignation. Not succeeding in their attempt to have the bargain cancelled, the people tarred the pew. The next Sunday,

the family carried seats in the waggon. The pew was then pulled down; but the family sat in the aisle. These indignities were continued until the separation of the family.

        HOSEA EASTON published a Treatise on the Intellectual Condition of the Colored People, in which was shown the heart of a philanthropist and the head of a philosopher. His work did great execution among those who proclaim the innate inferiority of colored men. Here is a chapter from his experience:--

        "I, as an individual, have had a sufficient opportunity to know something about prejudice and its destructive effects. At an early period of my life, I was extensively engaged in mechanism, associated with a number of other colored men, of master spirits and great minds. The enterprise was followed for about twenty years perseveringly, in direct opposition to public sentiment and the tide of popular prejudice. So intent were the parties in carrying out the principles of intelligent, active freemen, that they sacrificed every thought of comfort and ease to the object. The most rigid economy was adhered to, at home and abroad. A regular school was established for the youth, connected with the factory; the rules of morality were supported with surprising assiduity, and ardent spirits found no place in the establishment. After the expenditure of this vast amount of labor and time, together with many thousands of dollars, the enterprise ended in a total failure. By reason of the repeated surges of the tide of prejudice, the establishment, like a ship in a boisterous hurricane at sea, went beneath the waves,-- richly laden, well manned and well managed, sank to rise no more. It fell, and with it fell the hearts of several of its projectors in despair, and their bodies into their graves."

        QUACK MATRICK, of Stoughton Corner, was a regular Revolutionary soldier, and drew a pension.

        JOB LEWIS, of Lancaster, (formerly a slave,) enlisted for two terms of three years each; and a third time for the remainder of the war. He died in November, 1797. His Son, JOEL W. LEWIS, when a boy, was very persevering in study, and as he depended mainly upon himself, when away from a brief country school term, busied himself for seven weeks in solving one complicated lesson in arithmetic. Mr. Lewis is now proprietor of an extensive blacksmithing establishment in Boston, where he gives employment to several white and colored mechanics.

        PRINCE RICHARDS, of East Bridgewater, was a pensioned Revolutionary soldier. While a slave, he learned to write with a charred stick; thus evincing a burning desire to improve, even against the command of his self-styled owner.

        PHILIP ANDREWS, a colored man, was drowned in Ludlow, on the 30th of May, 1842. He was over eighty years of age. He was the servant of a captain of the British army, in the Revolution, and, at the age of sixteen, deserted to the American army, and has remained in this country ever since.

        JACK GROVE, of Portland, while steward of a brig, sailing from the West Indies to Portland, in 1812, was taken by a French vessel, whose commander placed a guard on board. Jack urged his commander to make an effort to retake the vessel, but the captain saw no hope. Says Jack, "Captain McLellan, I can take her, if you will let me go ahead."

The captain checked him, warning him not to lisp such a word,--there was danger in it; but Jack, disappointed though not daunted, rallied the men on his own hook. Captain McLellan and the rest, inspired by his example, finally joined them, and the attempt resulted in victory. They weighed anchor, and took the vessel into Portland. The owners of the brig offered Jack fifty hogsheads of molasses for his valor and patriotism, but Jack demanded one half of the brig, which being denied him, he commenced a suit, engaging two Boston lawyers in his behalf. I have not been able to learn how the case was decided, if, indeed, a decision has yet been made.

        BOSSON WRIGHT resided in Massachusetts upwards of eighty years, and could well remember when the British burned the town of Portland. He assisted in building two of the Forts, and parted with two of his companions on their way to join the American army. He was a tax-payer for more than fifty years.

        Bosson said that one Mayberry, a slave from Gorham, saw a British sailor in the act of setting fire to the old Parish church, (now the First Parish in Portland,) when he (Mayberry) seized him, and carried him before the leading men, who, being Tories, ordered the sailor's discharge.

        Being one afternoon on a sailing excursion down Portland harbor, Bosson directed attention to the Fort as not being properly located, indicating the spot which he would have selected. Some years after, when President Munroe visited the Eastern States, the same observation was made by him,

and the same spot pointed out as had been by Bosson Wright.

        One of his acquaintances, a colored soldier at the Battle of Saratoga, walked up, quite elated, to Cornwallis, after his surrender, saying:--"You used to be named Cornwallis, but it is Corn-wallis no longer; it must now be Cob-wallis, for General Washington has shelled off all the corn."