Well, I was again a soldier!—I staid at home a few days, which I endeavoured to make as agreeable as possible, well knowing that the army would bring trouble enough to counterbalance all the happiness I could procure for myself in the short time I had to tarry at home.
Just at this time the British landed in Connecticut, and marched twenty miles into the country, where they burnt the town of Danbury with all the public stores it contained, which were considerable, among which was all the clothing of our regiment. The militia were generally turned out and sent to settle the account with them; the newly enlisted soldiers went with the militia; the enemy had, however, executed his commission, and made considerable progress on his return before we came up. We had some pretty severe scratches with them; killed some, wounded some, and took some prisoners; the remainder reached their shipping, embarked, and cleared out for New-York, where they arrived soon after, (I suppose,) much gratified with the mischief they had done. We likewise returned home, with the loss of three men belonging to the town, one of whom was an enlisted soldier. Major-General David Wooster, of New-Haven, an old and experienced officer, likewise fell in this expedition; Gen. Arnold had a very close rub, but escaped.
Soon after the above transaction, we had orders to join our regiment, (or rather, to begin to assemble the regiment,) at Newtown, the residence of our Colonel. We accordingly marched and arrived there. Here we drew our arms and equipments. Uncle Sam was always careful to supply us with these articles, even if he could not give us any thing to eat, drink or wear. We staid but a short time here, but went on to Danbury, where I had an ample opportunity to see the devastation caused there by the British. The town had been laid in ashes, a number of the inhabitants murdered and cast into their burning houses, because they presumed to defend their persons and property, or to be avenged on a cruel, vindictive invading enemy. I saw the inhabitants, after the fire was out, endeavouring to find the burnt bones of their relatives amongst the rubbish of their demolished houses. The streets, in many places, were literally flooded by the fat which ran from the piles of barrels of pork burnt by the enemy.—They fully executed their design.
