Category: History of Joseph Smith by His Mother

The remarkable life of Stephen Mack. Young Revolutionary War soldier; successful businessman of Tunbridge, Vermont; pioneer developer of Detroit and Pontiac, Michigan.

June 15, 1766 to November 14, 1826

My brother Stephen, who was next in age to Jason, was born in the town of Marlow, June 15, 1766.

I shall pass his childhood in silence and say nothing about him until he attained the age of fourteen, at which time he enlisted in the army, the circumstances of which were as follows:

A recruiting officer came into the neighborhood to draft soldiers for the Revolutionary War, and he called out a company of militia to which my brother belonged in order to take therefrom such as were best qualified to do military duty. My brother, being very anxious to go into the army at this time, was so fearful that he would be passed by on account of his age that the sweat stood in large drops on his face and he shook like an aspen leaf. Fortunately the officer made choice of him among others, and he entered the army and continued in the service of his country until he was seventeen. During this time he was in many battles, both on land and sea, traveling through cold, hunger, and fatigue and enduring every species of hardship that human nature could endure. Several times he narrowly escaped death by famine; but, according to his own account, whenever he was brought into a situation to fully realize his entire dependence upon God, the hand of Providence was always manifested in his deliverance.

Not long ago I met with an intimate acquaintance of my brother Stephen, and requested him to furnish me such facts as were in his possession in relation to him; and he wrote the following brief yet comprehensive account for the gratification of my readers:

“I, Horace Stanly, was born in Tunbridge, Orange County, Vermont, August 21, 1798. I have been personally acquainted with Major Mack and his family ever since I can remember, as I lived in the same township, within one mile and a half of the Major’s farm, and two miles from his store, and eight miles from Chelsea, the county seat of Orange County, where he conducted the mercantile and tinning business.

“My eldest brother went to learn the tinning business of the Major’s workmen. The Major, being a man of great enterprise, energetic in business, and possessed of a high degree of patriotism, launched forth on the frontiers of Detroit in the year 1800 (if I recollect rightly), where he immediately commenced trading with the Indians.

“He left his family in Tunbridge, on his farm, and while he was engaged in business at Detroit he visited them-sometimes once in a year, in eighteen months, or in two years, just as it happened.

“I visited Detroit, November 1, 1820, where I found the Major merchandising upon quite an extensive scale, having six clerks in one store; besides this, he had many other stores in the territory of Michigan, as well as in various parts of Ohio.

“His business at Pontiac was principally farming and building, but in order to facilitate these two branches of business, he set in operation a saw and flour mill, and afterwards added different branches of mechanism. He made the turnpike road from Detroit to Pontiac at his own expense. He also did considerable other public work, for the purpose of giving employment to the poor.

“He never encouraged idleness, or the man above his business. In 1828, having been absent from Detroit a short time, I returned. The Major was then a member of the council of the territory, and had acted a very conspicuous part in enhancing its prosperity and enlarging its settlement; and it was a common saying, that he had done much more for the territory than any other individual.

“In short, the Major was a man of talents of the first order. He was energetic and untiring. He always encouraged industry, and was very cautious how he applied his acts of charity.”

My brother was in the city of Detroit in 1812, the year in which Hull surrendered the territory to the British crown. My brother, being somewhat celebrated for his prowess, was selected by General Hull to take the command of a company as captain. After a short service in this office, he was ordered to surrender. At this his indignation was roused to the highest pitch. He broke his sword across his knee and, throwing it into the lake, exclaimed that he would never submit to such a disgraceful compromise while the blood of an American continued to run through his veins.

This drew the especial vengeance of the army upon his head; and his property doubtless would have been sacrificed to their resentment had they known the situation of his affairs. But this they did not know, as his housekeeper deceived them by a stratagem related by Mr. Stanly as follows:

“At the surrender of Detroit, not having as yet moved his family hither, Major Mack had an elderly lady, by the name of Trotwine, keeping house for him. The old lady took in some of the most distinguished British officers as boarders. She justified them in their course of conduct towards the Yankees, and, by her shrewdness and tact, she gained the esteem of the officers, and thus secured through them the goodwill of the soldiery, so far as to prevent their burning (what they supposed to be) her store and dwelling, both of which were splendid buildings.

“The Major never forgot this service done him by the old lady, for he ever afterwards supported her handsomely.”

Thus was a great amount of goods and money saved from the hands of his enemies. But this is not all: the news came to her ears that they were about to burn another trading establishment belonging to the Major, and without waiting to consult him, she went immediately to the store and took from the counting room several thousand dollars, which she secreted until the British left the city. The building and goods were burned.

As soon as the English left the territory, he recommenced business and removed his family from Tunbridge to Detroit. Here they remained but a short time, when he took them to Pontiac; and as soon as they were well established or settled in this place, he himself went to the city of Rochester, where he built a sawmill.

But in the midst of his prosperity, he was called away to experience another state of existence with barely a moment’s warning, for he was sick only four days from the time he was first taken ill until he died, and even on the fourth day, and in the last hour of his illness, it was not supposed to be at all dangerous until his son, who sat by his bedside, discovered he was dying.

He left his family with an estate of fifty thousand dollars, clear of encumbrance. He was a moral man, a man of business, and a man of the most intrepid courage, which last was shown in the defense of his country which was ever the interest that lay nearest to his heart.

The sicknesses of Lovisa and Lovina. Miraculous healing of Lovisa. She preaches to and exhorts the people for three years. Lucy cares for Lovina. Deaths of Lovina and Lovisa.

January 1780 to 1794

The history of Lovisa and Lovina, my two oldest sisters, is so connected and interwoven that I shall not attempt to separate it.

They were one in faith, in love, in action, and in hope of eternal life. They were always together, and when they were old enough to understand the duties of a Christian, they united their voices in prayer and songs of praise to God. This sisterly affection increased with their years and continued steadfast until death. One might say as did one of old, “Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like theirs.” The pathway of their lives was never clouded with a gloomy shadow until Lovisa’s marriage and removal from home, which left Lovina very lonely.

In about two years after Lovisa’s marriage, she was taken violently sick with a disease so singular in its nature that her attendant physicians had seen no precedent and could give it no name. Suffice it to say she was nigh unto death and sorely afflicted for the space of two years. She revived a little about this time and showed some symptoms of recovery, but a malignant reattack soon brought her back in intense agony upon a bed of pain and languor. She grew worse and worse until she became utterly speechless, and was so for several days. Those who attended her were not allowed to move her. She ate not; she drank not, with the exception of a few drops of rice water which they were able to pour into her mouth with a teaspoon by prying her teeth apart. Thus she lay for three days and two nights. On the night of the third day at about two o’clock, she feebly pronounced the name of her sister Lovina, who had hovered indefatigably all the while around her pillow night and day like an attendant angel, watching every change with thrilling anxiety. Lovina now bent with deep emotion over the emaciated form of the invalid and said, “My sister!” but no more; her feelings choked her utterance.

Lovisa said emphatically, “The Lord has healed me, soul and body. Raise me up and give me my clothes. I want to get up.”

Her husband told those present to gratify her, as this was probably a revival before death, and he would not have her crossed in her last moments. They raised her in bed and handed her clothing to her and assisted her to dress, but when she was lifted to her feet both of her ankles were instantly dislocated by her weight resting upon them. She said, “Put me in a chair and pull my feet gently, and I shall soon be sound again.”

She then ordered her husband to bring her nourishment, and when she had taken some stimulance, she desired them to assist her to cross the street to her father-in-law’s, who was then sick. They did so, and when she entered the house, he cried out in amazement, “Lovisa is dead and her spirit has come to admonish me of my final exit.”

“No, Father, no,” she said. “God has raised me up, and I have come to tell you to prepare for death.” She then sat down and conversed with him some time, and afterwards, with the assistance of her husband and those who had attended upon her that night, she returned home.

When news of this excitement and her miraculous recovery was noised abroad, the inhabitants began to gather from all quarters, both to hear and see concerning the strange and marvelous circumstance which had taken place. She talked to them a short time, sang a hymn with angelic harmony, and then told them she would meet them at the village church on Thursday, where she would tell them all about the strange manner in which she had been healed.

The next day, according to promise, she proceeded to the meetinghouse, and when she arrived there a large congregation had collected. Soon after she entered, the minister arose and remarked that, as many of the congregation had doubtless come to hear a recital of the strange circumstance which had taken place in the neighborhood, and as he himself felt more interested in it than in hearing a gospel discourse, he would open the meeting and then give place to Mrs. Tuttle.

The minister then requested her to sing a hymn; she accordingly did so, and her voice was as high and clear as it had ever been. Having sung, she arose and addressed the audience as follows: “I seemed to be borne away to the world of spirits, where I saw the Savior as through a veil, which appeared to me about as thick as a spider’s web, and he told me that I must return again to warn the people to prepare for death; that I must exhort them to be watchful as well as prayerful; that I must declare faithfully unto them their accountability before God and the certainty of their being called to stand before the judgment seat of Christ; and that if I would do this my life should be prolonged.” After this she spoke much to the people upon the uncertainty of life.

When she sat down, her husband and sister, also those who were with her during the last night of her sickness, arose and testified to her appearance just before her sudden recovery.

Of these things she continued to speak boldly, and her house was always crowded for the space of three years, at the end of which time she was seized with the consumption.

A short time before Lovisa was healed in the miraculous manner before stated, Lovina was taken with the consumption, when I was sixteen, and languished three years with this fatal disease.

Two years before sister Lovina’s death, I visited sister Tuttle, who was then sick at South Hadley. Here lived one Colonel Woodbridge, who bought a large church bell about this time which was hung while I was there and I understand remains till this day.

Lovina’s character was that of a true follower of Christ, and she lived contemplating her final change with that peaceful serenity which characterizes those who fear God and walk uprightly. She spoke calmly of her approaching dissolution and conjured her young friends to remember that life on this earth could not be eternal, that they might see, therefore, the necessity of looking beyond this veil of tears to a far more glorious inheritance “where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal.”

The care of Lovina during her illness devolved chiefly upon myself. The task, though a melancholy one, I cheerfully performed and, although she had much other attention, I never allowed myself to go an hour at a time beyond the sound of her voice while she was sick. Finally, she called to me one night (who am the youngest daughter of my father’s family) and said, “Lucy, tell Mother and Father to come to me.” When Mother came she said, “Mother, I am going now, and I wish you to call my young mates that I may speak to them again before I die.” While my mother was giving the necessary directions, my sister bade me take her up and place her in a chair. When Mother and our associates with the family were seated, she commenced speaking, and finding that her strength failed her, she desired Mother to prepare her some food, saying, “‘Tis the last you will ever get for me.” She took the food, and after eating with seeming appetite a small quantity, she then gave back the dish to Mother and said, “There, Mother. You will never get me anything to eat again.”

She then proceeded, “I do not know when I received my material change of heart, unless it was when I was ten years old. God, at that time, heard my prayers and forgave my sins. Since then I have, according to my best ability, endeavored to serve him continually. I have called you here to give you my last warning and bid you all farewell and beseech you to endeavor to meet me where parting shall be no more.”

Then, holding up her hands and looking upon them as one would mark a trifling thing which she had not observed before, she said, smiling, “See, the blood is now settling under my nails.” As she contemplated the gradual change in her appearance, she again remarked how slowly death crept on there. Placing the fingers of her left hand across the right, she said, “‘Tis cold to there. Soon this mortal flesh will be food for worms.” Then, turning to me, she said, “Now, sister Lucy. Help me back to the bed.”

I did as she desired, but as I moved my hand from beneath her side, she shouted, crying, “Oh sister, that hurt me.” She moaned plaintively. As this was the last sad office I could ever perform for my sister, it wounded me to think that in laying her upon her deathbed I should cause her pain.

My sister now laid herself calmly back upon her pillow and said, “My nose is now quite cold.” Then, slightly turning and straightening herself in bed, she continued, “Father, Mother, brother, sister, and dear companions, all farewell, I am going to rest-prepare to follow me.” She then sang the hymn:

Death! ’tis a melancholy day
To those that have no God,
When the poor soul is forced away
To seek her last abode.
In vain to heaven she lifts her eyes;
But guilt, a heavy chain,
Still drags her downwards from the skies,
To darkness, fire, and pain.
Awake and mourn, ye heirs of hell,
Let stubborn sinners fear;
You must be driven from earth, and dwell
A long Forever there!
See how the pit gapes wide for you,
And flashes in your face;
And thou, my soul, look downward too,
And sing recovering grace.
He is a God of sov’reign love,
Who promised heaven to me,
And taught my thoughts to soar above,
Where happy spirits be.
Prepare me, Lord, for thy right hand,
Then come the joyful day,
Come, death, and some celestial band,
To bear my soul away.

After repeating this hymn, she folded her hands across her breast and closed her eyes to open them no more in this world.

Having led my readers to the close of Lovina’s life, I shall return to Lovisa, of whom there only remains the closing scene of her earthly career.

In the course of a few months subsequent to the death of sister Lovina, my father received a letter from South Hadley, stating that Lovisa was very low of the consumption and that she earnestly desired him to come and see her as soon as possible, as she expected to live but a short time.

My father set out immediately, and when he arrived there, he found her in rather better health than he expected. In a few days after he got there she resolved in her heart to return with him at all hazards. To this her father unwillingly consented, and, after making the requisite preparations, they started for Gilsum.

They traveled about four miles and came to an inn kept by a man by the name of Taff. Here her father halted and asked her if she did not wish to tarry a short time to rest herself. She replied in the affirmative. By the assistance of the landlord, she was presently seated in an easy chair. My father then stepped into the next room to procure a little water and wine for her. He was absent but a moment; however, when he returned it was too late, her spirit had fled from its earthly tabernacle to return no more until recalled by the trump of the archangel.

My father immediately addressed a letter to Mother, informing her of Lovisa’s death, lest the shock of seeing the corpse unexpectedly should overcome her. As soon as he could get a coffin he proceeded on his journey for Gilsum, a distance of fifty miles.

She was buried by the side of her sister Lovina, according to her own request.

The following is part of a hymn composed by herself a few days previous to her decease:

Lord, may my thoughts be turned to thee;
Lift thou my heavy soul on high;
Wilt thou, O Lord, return to me
In mercy, Father, ere I die!
My soaring thoughts now arise above-
Oh, fill my soul with heavenly love.
Father and Mother, now farewell;
And husband, partner of my life,
Go to my father’s children, tell
That lives no more on earth thy wife,
That while she dwelt in cumbrous clay,
For them she prayed both night and day.
My friends, I bid you all adieu;
The Lord hath called, and I must go-
And all the joys of this vain earth
Are now to me of little worth;
‘Twill be the same with you as me,
When brought as near eternity.

Thus closes this mournful recital, and when I pass with my readers into the next chapter, with them probably may end the sympathy aroused by this rehearsal, but with me it must last while life endures.

The tragic history of Jason Mack and his courtship and engagement to Esther Bruce. Jason sails with his father to the Maritime Provinces. Another man deceives Esther Bruce and takes her to wife. Jason’s return and terrible disappointment.

1775 to 1790

My oldest brother, Jason, was a studious and manly boy. Before he attained his sixteenth year, he became what is termed a seeker, a believer in the power of God manifest through the medium of prayer and faith. He held that there was no church in existence which contained the pure principles of the gospel enjoyed by the ancient disciples of Christ, and he labored incessantly to convince the people that, by an exercise of prayer, the blessings and privileges of the ancient disciples of Jesus might be and eventually would be obtained.

At the age of twenty he became a minister of the gospel. Shortly after this, he became enamored with a beautiful and wealthy young woman by the name of Esther Bruce of the state of New Hampshire. She was the pride of the place in which she resided, not so much on account of her splendid appearance as the soundness of her mind and her stately deportment, joined with an unaffected mildness of disposition and a condescension of manners which were admirably suited to the taste and principles of my brother. He was passionately fond of her, and she seemed also to have the most fervent attachment for him. It would have been as easy to have convinced Jason that he could exist without his head as that he could live and enjoy life without being united with her in marriage.

They were engaged to be married and every preparation was being made for their approaching nuptials, when my father received a letter from Liverpool stating that a heavy debt that had been due him for a long time was collected and ready for him. Thus, it was agreed that the marriage of Jason should be deferred, and he should accompany my father to Liverpool. He left his betrothed with a heavy heart but with this arrangement-that he was to write to her and his sisters conjointly once every three months. In due time, according to their agreement, a letter arrived which Esther received most joyfully, but it was never followed by another from him. A young man who kept the office where she received her letters formed in his heart a design to thwart my brother in his intentions and obtain the hand of Esther Bruce himself. He used every art to dissuade her from marrying Jason, meantime detaining his letters in order that she might not hear from him, and he might the more easily accomplish his fiendish purposes.

Unforeseen circumstances detained my father and Jason beyond the time appointed for their return. Meanwhile, the postmaster continued to importune Miss Bruce upon the subject of my brother’s neglect, until at last she received two or three epistles stating that Jason Mack was dead, that she and his relatives might cease to look for his return. This was two years after Jason had left the shores of America. Esther gave no credence to the first message, till the tale was so confirmed that she could no longer doubt; but still she rejected the young man from the post office until within four months of Jason’s arrival at home, three years and ten months from the time they had embarked for Liverpool.

Jason went immediately to her father’s house. She was absent with her husband. He seated himself in the same room where he had wooed her and obtained her consent to be his. He waited for her arrival with a beating heart, not knowing the perfidious game his rival had played him, until she entered. She was attired in a complete suit of mourning, as she had lost a brother recently by death, and beyond this there was a bitter disappointment preying like a cankerworm upon her very vitals, occasioned by the supposed death of him who now stood before her.

She bowed in gloomy silence as she entered the splendid apartment where he sat, fitted up as it had been in earlier, happier days to please the man now doomed to drink the bitter cup of sorrow to the dregs. She walked to the other side of the room and thrust aside her bonnet and shawl, but as she turned again to the stranger and beheld his distracted and inquiring look, she recognized to her amazement this person. She clasped her hands in agony and, with a piercing shriek, fell lifeless to the floor. My brother took the motionless form of her that should have been his own and, placing her on a sofa, resigned her into the hands of her cowering, conscience-smitten husband and left her with those pungent feelings which some few are fated to experience but none can tell nor imagine correctly.

By the active exertions of those who attended her, she at last revived to realize her lamentable situation more fully. Jason returned home, and hearing an explanation of the whole matter, which simply was that the man detained his letters and gave the intelligence of his death, he went immediately to sea. Jason lived single to his fiftieth year.

From this time forward, Esther never recovered her health but, lingering for two years, died the victim of disappointment.

A brief sketch is given of the life of Solomon Mack, father of Lucy Mack, from his own writings. His early military service. His marriage to Lydia Gates and service in the Revolutionary War. His final devotion to God and family.

September 15, 1732 to fall 1788

My father, Solomon Mack, was born in the town of Lyme, New London County, state of Connecticut, September 26, 1735. His father, Ebenezer Mack, was a man of considerable property and lived in good style, commanding all the attention and respect which are ever shown to those who live in fine circumstances and strict habits of morality. For some length of time, my grandparents lived in peace and plenty, fully enjoying the fruits of their industry, but at length a series of misfortunes visited them, occasioned in most instances by the perfidy of their fellowmen, which reduced them by degrees till at last they came to penury and want. A once happy and flourishing family was compelled to disperse, and throw themselves upon the charity of a cold, unfeeling world.

My father was taken into the family of a neighboring farmer, where he remained until he was nearly twenty-one years of age. I have here a sketch of my father’s life, written by himself, from which I extract the following:

“I was bound out to a farmer in the neighborhood. As is too commonly the case, I was considered rather a slave than a member of the family, and instead of allowing me the privilege of common hospitality, that kind of protection due to helpless and indigent children, I was treated by my master as his property and not as his fellow mortal.

“At the age of twenty-one years, I left my master. Shortly after which I enlisted in the services of my country under the command of Captain Harris, and was annexed to the regiment commanded by Colonel Whiting.

“From Connecticut, we marched to Fort Edward, in the state of New York. We were in a severe battle, fought at Halfway Brook in 1755. During this expedition I caught a heavy cold which rendered me unfit for business until the return of warm weather. I was carried the ensuing spring to Albany.

“In the year 1757, I had two teams in the King’s service, which were employed in carrying the general’s baggage. While thus engaged, I went one morning to yoke my team, but three of my oxen were missing. When this knowledge came to the officer, he was very angry, and drawing his sword, threatened to run it through me. He then ordered me to get three other oxen, which I accordingly did, and proceeded with the baggage to Fort Edward, and the next day I returned in order to find my missing oxen.

“While I was performing this trip, the following circumstance occurred. About halfway from Stillwater to Fort Edward, I espied four Indians nearly thirty rods distant, coming out of the woods. They were armed with scalping knives, tomahawks, and guns. I was alone, but about twenty rods behind me was a man by the name of Webster. I saw my danger, and that there was no way to escape unless I could do it by stratagem; so I rushed upon them, calling in the meantime at the top of my voice, ‘Rush on! rush on, my boys! We’ll have the devils.’ The only weapon I had was a walking staff, yet I ran toward them, and as the other man appeared just at that instant, it gave them a terrible fright, and I saw no more of them.

“I hastened to Stillwater the next day, as aforementioned, and finding my oxen soon after I arrived there, I returned the same night to Fort Edward, a distance of seven miles, the whole of which was a dense forest.

“In 1758, I enlisted under Major Spencer and went immediately over Lake George with a company who crossed in boats to the western side, where we had a bloody and hot engagement with the enemy in which Lord Howe fell at the onset of the battle. His bowels were taken out and buried, but his body was embalmed and carried to England.

“The next day we marched to the breastworks, but were unsuccessful, being compelled to retreat with a loss of five hundred men killed and as many more wounded.

“In this contest I narrowly escaped-a musket ball passed under my chin within half an inch of my neck. The army then returned to Lake George, and, on its way thither, a large scouting party of the enemy came round by Skenesborough and, at Halfway Brook, destroyed a large number of both men and teams. Upon this, one thousand of our men were detached to repair immediately to Skenesborough in pursuit of them; but when we arrived at South Bay, the enemy was entirely out of our reach.

“The enemy then marched to Ticonderoga, New York, in order to procure supplies, after which they immediately pursued us, but we eluded them by hastening to Wood Creek, and thence to Fort Anne, where we arrived on the 13th day of the month. We had just reached this place, when the sentry gave information that the enemy was all around us, in consequence of which we were suddenly called to arms. Major Putnam led the company, and Major Rogers brought up the rear. We marched but three-quarters of a mile, when we came suddenly upon a company of Indians that were lying in ambush. Major Putnam marched his men through their ranks, whereupon the Indians fired, which threw our men into some confusion. Major Putnam was captured by them, and would have been killed by an Indian had he not been rescued by a French lieutenant.

“The enemy rose like a cloud and fired a whole volley upon us, and as I was in the foremost rank, the retreat of my company brought me in the rear, and the tomahawks and bullets flew around me like hailstones. As I was running, I saw not far before me a windfall which was so high that it appeared to me insurmountable; however, by making great exertion, I succeeded in getting over it. Running a little farther, I observed a man who had in this last conflict been badly wounded, and the Indians were close upon him; nevertheless I turned aside for the purpose of assisting him, and succeeded in getting him into the midst of our army in safety.

“In this encounter, a man named Gersham Rowley had nine bullets shot through his clothes but received no personal injury. Ensign Worcester received nine wounds, was scalped and tomahawked, notwithstanding which he lived and finally recovered.

“The above engagement commenced early in the morning and continued until about three o’clock p.m., in which half of our men were either killed, wounded, or taken prisoners. In consequence of this tremendous slaughter, we were compelled to send to Fort Edward for men in order to assist in carrying our wounded, which were about eighty in number.

“The distance we had to carry them was nearly fourteen miles. To carry so many thus far was truly very fatiguing, insomuch that when we arrived at the place of destination, my strength was about exhausted.

“I proceeded immediately to Albany for the purpose of getting supplies, and returned again to the army as soon as circumstances would admit.

“Autumn having now arrived, I went home, where I tarried the ensuing winter.

“In the spring of 1759, the army marched to Crown Point, where I received my discharge. About this time I became acquainted with an amiable and accomplished young woman, a schoolteacher by the name of Lydia Gates, the daughter of Daniel Gates, a man living in ease and affluence in the town of East Haddam, state of Connecticut. To this young woman I was shortly united in the bands of matrimony; and a most worthy and invaluable companion did she prove to be, for I soon discovered that she was not only pleasant and agreeable by reason of the polish of education, but also possessed that inestimable jewel which in a wife and mother of a family is truly a pearl of great price, namely, a pious and devotional character.

“Having received a large amount of money for my services in the army, and deeming it prudent to make an investment of the same in real estate, I contracted for the whole town of Granville in the state of New York. On the execution of the deed, I paid all the money that was required in the stipulation, which also called for the building of a number of log houses. I accordingly went to work to fulfill this part of the contract, but after laboring a short time, I had the misfortune to cut my leg, which subjected me, during that season, to the care of the physician. I hired a man to do the work and paid him in advance, in order to fulfill my part of the contract; but he ran away with the money without performing the labor, and the consequence was, I lost the land altogether.

“In 1761, we moved into the town of Marlow, where we remained until we had four children. At that time Marlow was a desolate wilderness. There were but four families in forty miles. Then it was I learned to prize the talents and virtues of my wife. As our children were wholly deprived of the privilege of schools, she took the charge of their education, which task she performed as none but a mother can do. Debarred in their earliest years and in their first experience in some measure from intercourse with the world, the mother’s precepts and example took deeper root in their infant minds and had a more lasting influence upon their future character than all the flowery eloquence of the pulpit surrounded with its ordinary disadvantages.

“Thus, my older children became confirmed in habits of gentleness, piety, and reflection, which were under these circumstances more easily impressed upon the minds of those who came after them. And I often thought it would have been more difficult to have brought them into the channel they were reared in had they not inherited much of the disposition of their excellent mother, whose prayers and alms came up daily before that all-seeing eye that rests upon all his works.

“She, besides instructing them in the various branches of an ordinary education, was in the habit of calling them together both morning and evening and teaching them to pray, meanwhile urging upon them the necessity of love toward each other, as well as devotional feelings towards Him who made them.

“In 1776 I enlisted in the service of my country and was for a considerable length of time in the land forces, after which I went with my two sons, Jason and Stephen, on a privateering expedition commanded by Captain Havens. Soon after we set sail, we were driven upon Horseneck. We succeeded, however, in getting some of our guns on shore and bringing them to bear upon the enemy so as to exchange many shots with them; yet they cut away our rigging and left our vessel much shattered.

“We then hauled off and cast anchor, but in a short time we espied two row-galleys, two sloops, and two schooners. We quickly weighed anchor and hauled to shore again, and had barely time to post four cannon in a position in which they could be used before a sanguinary contest commenced. The balls from the enemy’s guns tore up the ground, cutting asunder the saplings in every direction. One of the row-galleys went round a point of land with the view of hemming us in, but we killed forty of their men with our small arms, which caused the enemy to abandon their purpose.

“My son Stephen, in company with the cabin boys, was sent to a house, not far from the shore, with a wounded man. Just as they entered the house, an eighteen-pounder followed them. A woman was engaged in frying cakes at the time, and being somewhat alarmed, she concluded to retire into the cellar, saying, as she left, that the boys might have the cakes, as she was going below.

“The boys were highly delighted at this, and they went to work cooking and feasting upon the lady’s sweet cakes, while the artillery of the contending armies was thundering in their ears, dealing out death and destruction on every hand. At the head of this party of boys was Stephen Mack, my second son, a bold and fearless stripling of fourteen.

“In this contest, the enemy was far superior to us in point of numbers, yet we maintained our ground with such valor that they thought it better to leave us and accordingly did so. Soon after this, we hoisted sail and made for New London.

“When hostilities ceased and peace and tranquility were again restored, we freighted a vessel for Liverpool. Selling both ship and cargo in this place, we embarked on Captain Foster’s vessel, which I afterwards purchased; but, in consequence of storms and wrecks, I was compelled to sell her, and was left completely destitute.

“I struggled a little longer to obtain property in making adventures, then returned to my family after an absence of four years about penniless. After this I determined to follow phantoms no longer, but devote the rest of my life to the service of God and my family.”

I shall now lay aside my father’s journal, as I have made such extracts as are adapted to my purpose, and take up the history of his children.