First Patriots’ Day: An Eyewitness Account

Although no sound recordings of Revolutionary War veterans exist, the following recording, made in 1950, is the next best thing. In it, the ninety-five year old Dr. Alfred Worcester relates the events of Lexington, Concord, and Battle Road as told to him by his great-grandmother, who witnessed them firsthand. It’s an extraordinary audio piece, and possibly the only second-hand account of the Revolutionary War ever recorded:

First Patriots’ Day, The: An Eyewitness Account By Dr. Alfred Worcester – WGBH Open Vault.

News Flash from 1792: Mother Fights Off Hordes of Indians with an Axe

From the Windham Herald, Saturday. September 8th, 1792:

Extraordinary instance of female heroism. Extracted from a letter written by Col. James Perry to the Rev. Jordon Dodge. On the 1st of April inst. a number of Indians surrounded the house of John Merril, which was discovered by the barking of a dog. Merril stepped to the door to see what he could discover, and received three musket balls, which caused him to fall back into the house with a broken leg and arm. The Indians rushed on to the door, but it being instantly fastened by his wife, who with a girl about fifteen years of age, stood against it, the savages could not immediately enter. They broke one part of the door, and one of them crowded partly through. The heroic mother, in the midst of her screaming children and groaning husband, seized an axe, and gave a fatal blow to the savage, and he falling headlong into the house, the Indians supposed they had obtained their end, and rushed after him, until four of them had fell in like manner, before they discovered their mistake. The rest retreated, which gave opportunity again to secure the door. The conquerors rejoiced in their victory; hoping they had killed the whole company, but their expectations were soon dashed by finding the door again attacked, which the bold mother endeavoured once more to secure, with the assistance of the young woman; their fears now came on them like a flood; and they soon heard a noise on the top of the house, and then found the Indians were coming down the chimney; all hopes of deliverance were now at an end; but the wounded man ordered his little child to tumble a couch, that was filled with hair and feathers, on the fire, which made such a smoke that two lusty indians came tumbling down the chimney; the wounded man exerting every faculty in this critical moment, seized a billet of wood, with which he conquered the smothered Indians; at the same instant the woman aimed a blow at the savage at the door, but not with the same effect as the rest, which caused him to retreat. They then again secured the door as fast as possible, and rejoiced at their deliverance, but not without fear of a third attack. They carefully watched with their family until morning, and were not again disturbed. We learn by a prisoner that made his escape from the Indians, that the wounded Indian last mentioned, was the only one that escaped at this time. On his return he was asked,–“what news brother?” “Plaguy bad news,” replied the wounded Indian, “for the squaws have taken the breech clout, and fight worse than the long knives.” This affair happened at Newbardstown about fifteen miles from Sandy-creek, and may be depended on, as I had the pleasure to assist in tumbling them into a hole, after they were stripped of their head dresses, and about twenty dollars worth of silver
furniture.

One Tough Soldier

“Caleb Kilton was born in Scituate, on the 6th of October, 1781. His parents were John Jenckes and Sarah (Brayton) Kilton. His father was one of those who opened the great drama of the American Revolution, by the destruction of the Gaspee, in 1772. During the war that followed, in common with his fellow-citizens, he was frequently in active service in the field. He was in Sullivan’s expedition to the island of Rhode Island, in 1778,–and in the battle which followed the retreat of the Americans, the barrel of his gun was heated, by repeated discharges, to such a degree as to compel him to desist from reloading it. He used to relate, that a soldier near him on that occasion, was struck by a spent musket ball on his front teeth with such force as to displace four of them. Nothing dismayed, added the ball and the four teeth to the next charge in his gun, with the wish, expressed in terms more forcible than pious, that the redcoats might derive some advantage from them.”

- Transactions of The Rhode Island Society for the Encouragement of Domestic Industry in the Year 1861. Providence: Knowles, Anthony & Co. 1862. p147-148