21. Saturday. Fair day. A wine prize to Grand Turk comes in; paper money, new emission, goes fast down hill. . . .
24. Tuesday. A fine day. The market people will not take any paper money for provisions. . . .
31. Tuesday. Cloudy morning. I return by half past eight o'clock from Maiden, and breakfast at Salem. Continental bills, whither is your credit flown? And where the credit of your makers and creators? "Oh !" says Dr. C., "they have answered well the purposes of their creation : they have supported the army for some years, and it is time for them to rest, being of no more service." O pious doctor, rare Dr. C. ! when fraud and deceit can no longer prevail, let them be laid aside as useless. . . .
[August] 9. Thursday. A fine, cool morning ; very warm at noon. Dine at the Fort on turtle, — about four persons ; Professor Williams, Mr. Barnard, Mr. Hopkins, and Dr. Whitaker, the latter by far the strongest man ; he seized Esquire Blaney and took him up on his shoulders and laid him flat on his back in a masterly manner, to the entertainment of his parishioners. "Aye," says T. Mason, "the doctor is fit for anything ; he would have made as stout a sailor as any in the town of Salem ; he is a smart man, and fit for any business ; he made as good an agent for the privateers as ever was." At about five o'clock we sit down to dinner.
10. Friday. A fine, cool morning. I returned to Mr. Oliver the dollar which I borrowed of him at the Fort.
12. Sunday. Fair and warm. Mrs. Orne and her maid Landor come.
13. Monday. Fair and cool. News that Mrs. Fairfield's son died in the prison ship at New York. Three more privateers are taken and carried to Halifax. Mrs. Cabot makes her will ; in it gives Titus, her negro, ₤40 and his freedom in case he shall continue in her service henceforth till her death. Titus cares not, as he gets money apace, being one of the agents for some of the privateersmen, and wears cloth shoes, ruffled shirts, silk breeches and stockings, and dances minuets at Commencement ; it is said he has made more profits as agent than Mr. Ansil Alcock or Dr. Whitaker by their agencies. A plentiful rain last night.
William Pynchon, Diary (edited by Fitch Edward Oliver, Boston, etc., 1890), 95-103 passim.
