The Death and Life of Bazabeel Norman, Veteran & “Man of Color”

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historian Eric Olsen. Eric is a historian with the National Park Service at Morristown National Historical Park. To learn more about the site, click here.

The following obituary of a Revolutionary War veteran appeared in a Marietta, Ohio newspaper in 1830.“Saturday, July 24, 1830

Casualty – On Saturday evening last, Mr. Bazil Norman of Roxbury township, a man of color, left his house to go to watch a deer lick, and not returning in the course of the night, the next day a search was commenced under the belief that some accident had befallen him; after a diligent search by his family and neighbors, he was found dead having fallen from a precipice about twelve feet.  From appearances he had been to the lick and stayed the usual time, and late in the evening attempted to return, by the aid of a torch-light; having a narrow pass to descend between some rocks about a half mile from his house, he missed his way a few yards, fell, and broke is neck. Mr. Norman was aged about 73 – was a soldier in the revolutionary war, and at the time of his death received a pension from the United States.” -American Friend & Marietta Gazette, July 24, 1830.

Bazabeel Norman was an African American private in the Maryland Line of the Continental Army and most likely part of the 1779-1780 encampment at Jockey Hollow. I haven’t been able to find any muster rolls or service records to confirm this, but fortunately Norman did apply for a veteran’s pension in 1818 in which he summarized his military service.

“ enlisted in fall of the year 1777 into the company of Capt. Richard Anderson as a private soldier in the regiment commanded by Col. John Gumby in the Maryland line and served my Country against the common enemy until the close of the war…I was in the battles of Monmouth, Camden, Cowpens, Guilford Courthouse & Eutaw Springs. I am now 67 years old…”

In 1818 the only veterans who could apply for a pension were for men who were infirm or indigent. Bazabeel Norman apparently fit the requirements and was granted a pension. But too many men were granted pensions and Congress suspected that undeserving men were cheating the system. In 1820 veterans who had been granted pensions in 1818 were now required to make a list of their possessions and prove they were needy. In his July 25, 1820 application, Norman summarized his family life.

“As to my family I have none at home but my wife, one son & a Grand child, an orphan. My wife is 63 years of age & very infirm, my son wants only about a month of being 21 years of age. My Grandchild is a Girl about eight years old & very weakly. The rest of my children are of age & doing for themselves. I am by occupation a farmer but owing to age & infirmity I am unable to do very little toward supporting myself.”

After his death in 1830 his wife “Fortune” applied for and obtained a widow’s pension [W 5429]. In her application, she mentioned that they were married before the end of the war but did not provide any more interesting information.

The only reason I was able to research Bazabeel Norman was because of an email from Michael Shaver, Acting Chief of Interpretation of Morristown NHP & Thomas Edison NHP. I’m quoting from his email, because frankly I never heard of the person he makes reference to and it easier than rewriting his email. Michael wrote, “A few weeks ago on the PBS series, Finding Your Roots, one of the genealogies that Henry Louis Gates was exploring was that of actress, Rebecca Hall. Hall, the daughter of Sir Peter Hall, founder of the Royal Shakespeare Company, and Maria Ewing, an American-born opera star of the 1970s and 1980s.  Hall has appeared in Iron Man 3 and last year’s King Kong movie, along with a host of highly acclaimed independent films. What prompted her appearance on the program was her directorial debut of the Netflix film, Passing. Hall now lives in Brooklyn and the Hudson Valley…

At about 30 minutes in, Gates is taking Hall back into the earlier generations of her family. He closes out with the discovery of Bazabeel “Basil” Norman, a free black from Maryland at about 36 minutes who was discovered through documentation of a veteran’s land grant in Ohio in 1818.

Basil Norman came from Frederick County, Maryland joined the 7th Regiment in the fall of 1777, under the command of Colonel John Gumby, in the company commanded by Captain Richard Anderson “and served my country against the common enemy until the close of the war under the continental establishment and discharged under a general order.

So Norman was probably hung his hat in Jockey Hollow.”

A big shout out/thank you to Michael for the tip which has revealed another African American soldier from Jockey Hollow.

Sources:

American Friend & Marietta Gazette, July 24, 1830, page 3, column 1, Ancestry online

Pension Application of Bazabeel Norman and his widow Fortune Norman, W5429, National Archives, Fold 3, Ancestry Online.

Finding Your Roots | Hidden in the Genes | Season 8 | Episode 1 | PBS

Final, Final Resting Place

Situated along East Monument Street is a stone monument surrounded by a black iron fence. A wayside informational marker is placed right outside the fence. Underneath this monument rests the remains of Daniel Wells and Henry McComas. On September 12, 1814, one of their firearms changed the entire scope of the Battle of North Point, part of the Chesapeake Bay Campaign during the War of 1812.

Both young militia members, sent to the frontlines to skirmish and harass the approaching British infantry, fired a musket round that slammed through the left elbow and into the chest of Major General Robert Ross, British land commander, mortally wounding him. Both Wells and McComas, aged 19 and 18 respectively, would be killed during the day’s fighting. A third soldier, Aquila Randall, also slain that day, has his own small monument and crediting him with firing the fateful shot.

Although most historians credit either Wells or McComas. Both soldiers were reinterred here, the second time their remains had been moved, in 1858 when the monument was completed and a funeral song and dramatic play rounded out the day’s commemoration.

The site is part of the Star-Spangled Banner National Historic Trail. To learn more about the trail, click here.

The Price is Right: Comparing Prices in 1794

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historian Eric Olsen. Eric is a historian with the National Park Service at Morristown National Historical Park. Click here to learn more about this site.

    

Visitors always want to know, “How much did “that” cost back then?” We used to tell them because of inflation and the conversion from pounds to dollars it was really hard to give a definitive answer. It is even harder to figure during the American Revolution when the value of the dollars changed dramatically just over the course of a few months. There are all sorts of fancy conversion sites on the internet today but since math was not my strong point, I don’t know how accurate they are. 

One book tried another approach to explain 18th century vs. modern prices. “A person today, purchasing the same product made the same way out of materials made the same way, will pay roughly the same percentage of their wages for the product as a person of equal economic status in the past would have. For comparison, at the present time [1997 book] an average shop rate runs thirty-five dollars an hour for labor. If you make ten dollars an hour, this costs you three and a half hours of work, and the same ratio applied to a craftsman making thirty pounds a year or two pence per hour.” Makes sense but seems a bit too complicated.

However, I did find one primary source that can give a clue to the relative value of items. It comes from Theophile Cazenove, a Dutchman who traveled through New Jersey and Pennsylvania in 1794 looking for investment opportunities for Dutch bankers. At his various stops in Morris County, Cazenove recorded the prices of farms, livestock, and even labor.

Sometimes the prices were in pounds, other times they were in dollars. When he included both prices for one item, I did some very simple math and found that it took eight shillings to make one dollar, and that $2.50 equaled one pound. According to the online conversion applications, one pound in 1790 equaled 167.58 pounds today. One dollar in 1790 equaled 32.20 dollars in today’s money.

But without doing any math or conversions if we look at the prices Cazenove listed we can see what items were more expense than other ones. From that we can also assume the more expensive items were more highly valued.   

Keep in mind, on the local level in 18th century America, it was not a cash driven economy. Specie, Hard Money or coins, made of valuable metals such as silver and gold were in short supply in North America and used infrequently. Paper Money was rarely used, appearing briefly during periods of war when armies needed a large source of money to buy goods and services.

Continue reading “The Price is Right: Comparing Prices in 1794”

On This Date: An America 250th Anniversary

The 27-year-old from Thetford, Norfolk, England native had a long journey before he even sailed across the Atlantic Ocean for the colonies. Although receiving an education until age 13, and an apprenticeship with his father until age 19, both uncommon among his peers, Thomas Paine started his professional career as a privateer. It did not suit him for long, he returned to Britain in 1759. Paine then became a staymaker, and within several years, opened his own store in Sandwich, Kent. By the end of the same year, Paine had married.

Read more: On This Date: An America 250th Anniversary

Life seemed to be set for the young couple, but tragedy after tragedy ultimately led Paine to the American colonies. Paine’s shop ran into financial challenges not long after his nuptials, and although offset by the joy of pregnancy, a relocation to a new town may have been too much on Mary. She went into early labor, and both mother and child tragically died during the delivery. A series of moves, career changes, and troubles dotted the next dozen years.

A supernumerary, Excise Officer, staymaker, schoolteacher, were all ahead of time. Charges of fraud and dismissal were as well. By the age of 31, in 1768, Paine’s next professional endeavor took him to Lewes in Sussex. Over the ensuing years in Lewes, a town with a long history of opposition to the monarchy and republican sentiments, Paine became a member of the Court Leet and parish vestry, worked as a tobacconist and grocer, and married for the second the time.

Thomas Paine

By 1772, Paine wrote his first political piece. His time in his home country was now on the clock. By the spring of 1774, following his political priorities and ideologies, Paine had all but abandoned his post as an excise officer and was essentially fired. He next separated from his second wife, Elizabeth, and moved to London. It was while in London that Paine met Benjamin Franklin who suggested he emigrate to Philadelphia. Paine did exactly that.

His journey through life was turbulent, even more so during the first half of the 1770s, just like his voyage across the Atlantic on his to Philadelphia in the Pennsylvania colony. The water supplies aboard the ship were dreadful, and typhoid raged across the decks of the vessel. Paine was barely alive by the time the ship reached Philadelphia. He was so ill he was unable to leave the docked boat under his own power, Benjamin Franklin sending his personal physician to the ship and have him carried off. Yet, on this date, November 30, 250 years ago, Thomas Paine had arrived to the American colonies. After six weeks of recovery his new journey, a journey shared by all those that were to be swept up in the American Revolution, began.

Less than two years after landing in Philadelphia, Paine published his work Common Sense. Coupled with a series of works entitled The Crises, Paine, “ignited a nation to help the failing cause of the Revolution.”

On this date…The Jay Treaty

On this date in history…

On November 19, 1794, John Jay, representing George Washington’s administration, affixed his signature to a document bearing his name in history. The Jay Treaty. Although the official name of the pact was “The Treaty of Amity, Commerce, and Navigation, Between His Britannic Majesty and the United States of America.”

The treaty’s aim was to resolve outstanding issues from the conclusion of the American Revolutionary War and facilitate economic trade. Although some of the clauses were not fulfilled completely and another war, the War of 1812, erupted because of it, the treaty did serve a purpose. The agreement ushered in a decade of trade between the two countries and gave the fledgling nation a chance to gain footing, a major concern for George Washington, as first president. The treaty also cemented the promise that Great Britain would vacate the forts in the Northwest Territory and agreed to arbitration on the boundary between Canada and the United States and the pre-American Revolutionary War debt.

Yet, the treaty was divisive. Even Jay remarked that he could find his way in the dead of night by the illumination of his own effigy. The treaty angered the French as that country was amid its revolutionary throes, and bitterly divided the nation. Out of it came the separation into two political parties, the Federalists, who supported the treaty, and the Democratic-Republicans who stood opposed to it.

The treaty was ratified by the Senate on June 24, 1795, with an exact two-thirds majority, 20 to 10 along with being passed by William Pitt the Younger, prime minister of Great Britain and his government, and took effect on February 29, 1796.

Historian Joseph Ellis wrote that the Jay Treaty was “a shrewd bargain for the United States” and “a precocious preview of the Monroe Doctrine.” As one of Washington’s most fervent wishes, the treaty “postponed war with England until America was economically and politically more capable of fighting one.”

Civil War Nurse Saves Mount Vernon & Valley Forge

Valley Forge consists of acres of undulating countryside where General George Washington and some 11,000 Continental Army troops spent the winter of 1777-1778. Today, it is one of the nation’s most hallowed shrines. Few, if any, modern visitors recognize the woman who fought to save it, nor her heroic work as a nurse during the American Civil War.

Read more: Civil War Nurse Saves Mount Vernon & Valley Forge

Anna Morris Ellis was born in Muncy, Pennsylvania, on April 9, 1824. On September 26, 1848, she married William Hayman Holstein. At 38 years old, Anna became involved in the Union army’s war effort during the American Civil War after the battle of Antietam in September 1862. Her husband returning home after serving a 90-day enlistment, told of wounded men lying in barns and fields around Sharpsburg, Maryland because there weren’t enough medical corpsmen. Despite an overhaul to the Union Army of the Potomac’s Medical Department by Dr. Jonathan Letterman earlier that summer, the combined evacuation of the Virginia Peninsula from their failed late spring and summer campaigns and the Second Manassas campaign outside of Washington, D.C. in August had left this medical department in a state of chaos, confusion, and wholly unprepared to meet the medical needs of such another large scale engagement as Antietam. Anna and her husband William immediately left for the Antietam battlefield in response to the distressing scenes he had painted for her. 

Anna Morris Ellis Holstein

The Holstein’s served for months around the Antietam battlefield, caring for the sick and wounded. Their role as post-battle caretakers continued just a month after the battle of Gettysburg when the large army field hospital of Camp Letterman opened just east of the borough on the York Road. This time, however, Anna was already numbed to the scenes of shattered limbs and the despondently ill wearied from disease. By this time her husband had secured a position with the U.S. Sanitary Commission which also setup at Gettysburg to aid the wounded and sick in the wake of the battle. That agency, along with the U.S. Christian Commission, offered supplies and personages to aid in the aftermath of not only Gettysburg, but other battles in the final years of the war.

Anna’s role for caring for those soldiers left behind by both armies was significant. She was made matron-in-chief of Camp Letterman by Dr. Cyrus Nathaniel Chamberlain, which, under her and Chamberlain’s care, attended to over 3,000 wounded soldiers. Anna continued to work at Camp Letterman until it closed on November 19, 1863. Later that day, both her and her husband sat on the platform near Abraham Lincoln while he delivered the Gettysburg Address. Following her work at Gettysburg, Anna continued to nurse the sick and wounded back to health. By the end of the Civil War in 1865 and into 1866, she worked as a matron in a hospital in Annapolis, Maryland, caring for returned prisoners of war that were sick or wounded.

In the post Civil War years, Anna turned to the preservation of the places and material culture from America’s first war for independence. She was no stranger to the importance of this era and the necessity of keeping the memory of those that served during that turbulent era alive for future generations. Anna’s great-grandfather was Capt. Samuel Morris. Morris was the captain of the First City Troop of Philadelphia when it served as George Washington’s body guard. Captain Morris was with Washington during the Ten Crucial Days and was on the field him at the battles of Trenton and Princeton. Morris even earned the sobriquet as leader of the “fighting Quakers.” Anna’s grandfather, Richard Wells, also served the American cause. He was commissioned to provision the U.S. fleet on the Delaware River during the revolutionary war.

One of her first missions was to save and restore George Washington’s Virginia estate, Mount Vernon. The home had fallen into significant disrepair, with the recent war years only aiding to its material decay. Both Anna and her husband, who also had strong ancestral ties to the War for Independence, were among the first to promote the struggles at Mount Vernon, the necessity for saving it, and the fundraising to back those plans. It was her skills in fundraising so successfully for Mount Vernon that led her to be named as regent for the Valley Forge Centennial and Memorial Association. Anna also was one of the founders, and also named regent as well, of the Valley Forge Chapter of the D.A.R.

By 1878, The Centennial and Memorial Association of Valley Forge, was incorporated in Montgomery County, Pennsylvania. Once incorporated, she led the charge as regent to save, acquire, restore and preserve General Washington’s Valley Forge Headquarters and surrounding acreage as parcels became available. Much needed funds for this charge would be needed, however. On June 19, 1878, to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the Continental Army marching out of Valley Forge, the Association held a large, organized event. With the funds generated from the anniversary commemoration, the Association was able to not only purchase General Washington’s Headquarters, but also additional acreage around the farm complex. They were also able to purchase original artifacts to place in the home, begin renovations to restore the home back to its 1777-78 appearance, and plant a tree from Washington’s Mt. Vernon on the property.

By 1893, when the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania assumed control of the camp sites and headquarters at Valley Forge, with Anna credited as the person “to whom the Nation is indebted more than any other” for her tireless efforts to ensure this national shrine was preserved and protected in perpetuity. Decades later, the National Park Service would assume ownership and operational leadership of the park from the state of Pennsylvania.

Anna and William’s home still stands in King of Prussia, Pennsylvania today at 211 Henderson Road. In 2021 the Pennsylvania Historical and Museum Commission placed a marker at the entrance drive to the home. Anna’s work at saving material culture from the Revolutionary War and ensuring the legacy of the veterans of that conflict lived on was vast. Hopefully this small summation of her activities inspires others to dig deeper into her efforts.

“Rev War Revelry” “Till the Extinction of this Rebellion…” with Author Eric Sterner

For this week’s “Rev War Revelry” Emerging Revolutionary War ventures to the west to discuss the recently published book, “Till the Extinction of this Rebellion, George Rogers Clark, Frontier Warfare, and the Illinois Campaign of 1778-1779.” The author, Eric Sterner, is a contributor to the Emerging Revolutionary War, along with the author of An Anatomy of a Massacre: The Destruction of Gnadenhutten, 1782. When not writing history, Sterner had a career in government and public policy besides contributing to the literature and study of the American Revolutionary War era.

This book, published by Westholme Publishing, examines the viewpoints of the American, British, and Indigenous perspectives and illustrates the wide impact of the American Revolution on the peoples west of the Appalachian Mountains. What happened with Clark’s movements and campaign will lay the foundation for American expansion and the “opening of the West” following the American Revolution.

We hope you can join us for this historian happy hour this Sunday at 7 p.m. on our Facebook channel. If you miss it, we will post the revelry on our YouTube channel. Just search “Emerging Revolutionary War” to subscribe.

“Rev War Revelry” Author Matthew E. Reardon, “A Traitor’s Homecoming…”

Although 1781 is most known for the pivotal and successful victory at Yorktown, action in the American Revolution unfolded throughout the eastern seaboard. In early September 1781, Benedict Arnold returned to the land of his birth to lead a raid on New London and the port that harbored preying privateers.

During this raid, the American militia under Lieutenant Colonel William Ledyard especially, stoutly defended Fort Griswold until overcome by superior numbers. The town of New London was also torched and saw a rarity like the battle of Trenton, in that combatants fought through the very streets of the town.

Capturing all this and uncovering new primary sources, Matthew Reardon weaves a narrative that balances military history, from the fighting to the strategies, with the impact on New London and Connecticut. His book, “The Traitor’s Homecoming, Benedict Arnold’s Raid on New London, Connecticut, September 4 – 13, 1781” was recently published by Savas Beatie, LLC. Matthew is a native of northeastern Connecticut and is a public educator along with being a command historian for the Connecticut Military Department. He can be reached for inquiries on speaking engagements or how to purchase the book here.

The book will be the focus of this week’s “Rev War Revelry.” We hope you can join us on our Facebook page on Sunday, 7 p.m. EDT.

*Note*
This “Rev War Revelry” will be recorded in advance as the Emerging Revolutionary War crew will be in Lexington and Concord, Massachusetts for the 4th Annual Emerging Revolutionary War bus tour.

John Adams Goes to Catholic Mass

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historian Evan Portman

Two future presidents walk into a Catholic church.

No, that’s not the beginning of a bad historical joke. It’s what happened on October 9, 1774, when George Washington and John Adams wandered into Old St. Mary’s Catholic Church while serving as delegates to the First Continental Congress in Philadelphia.

In September 1774, delegates from twelve of the thirteen colonies convened in Philadelphia for the purpose of discussing a response to Parliament’s recent Intolerable Acts. But after a month of debating (and bickering), Adams wrote that “the Business of the Congress is tedious, beyond Expression.”[1] Seeking a break from the monotony, Adams and Washington ventured to one of the oldest Catholic churches in the colonies. Established in 1763 by parishioners of Old St. Joseph’s, St. Mary’s Church grew from the need for a Catholic cemetery.

“[L]ed by Curiosity and good Company I strolled away to Mother Church or rather Grandmother Church, I mean the Romish Chappell,” Adams wrote to his wife Abigail that day.[2] The church stood just a few blocks south of the Congress’s meeting place at Carpenters’ Hall and starkly contrast anything the Protestant Adams had seen before. A descendant of some of America’s early Puritans, Adams was raised in the Congregational church of Braintree, Massachusetts, where “unfettered daylight through clear window glass allowed for no dark or shadowed corners, no suggestion of mystery.”[3] Old St. Mary’s could not have been more different. Light poured through several stained-glass windows before a large, ornate altar, behind which hung a dramatic depiction of Christ’s passion while burning candles and incense lit the nave.

Adams’s puritanical upbringing taught him to abhor such pageantry in the house of the Lord. He looked with pity upon “the poor Wretches, fingering their Beads, chanting Latin, not a Word of which they understood, their Pater Nosters and Ave Maria’s.” Even “their holy Water—their Crossing themselves perpetually—their Bowing to the Name of Jesus, wherever they hear it” appalled the young lawyer from Boston.[4]

Despite his disdain, some elements of the mass impressed and even moved, Adams. He described the priest’s homily as a “good, short, moral Essay upon the Duty of Parents to their Children, founded in Justice and Charity, to take care of their Interests temporal and spiritual.” Its brevity stood in stark contrast to the long-winded sermons of the Great Awakening, with which Adams would likely have been familiar. Even the priest’s flashy garments were noteworthy to the future president. “The Dress of the Priest was rich with Lace—his Pulpit was Velvet and Gold,” Adams noted.[5]

But most noteworthy of all was the “Picture of our Saviour in a Frame of Marble over the Altar at full Length upon the Cross, in the Agonies, and the Blood dropping and streaming from his Wounds.” That combined with the organ music, which Adams described as “most sweetly and exquisitely” was enough to move him. “This Afternoons Entertainment was to me, most awfull and affecting,” he confessed. But in the eighteenth century, the word “awful” did not mean what it does today. Adams quite literally meant that he was “full of awe” in observing the mass. He was so moved, in fact, that he wondered how “Luther ever broke the spell” of Catholicism.[6]

Perhaps Adams’s experience that day, 250 years ago, is indicative of the Revolution at large, as it brought together men from disparate backgrounds and regions. As a young man in Braintree, Adams likely never imagined he could be moved by a “papist ceremony,” nor could he probably have imagined signing his name on a document securing independence from his former country. In this way, the American Revolution made fantasy a reality, and the impossible, possible.


[1]“John Adams to Abigail Adams, 9 October 1774,” Founders Online, National Archives, https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Adams/04-01-02-0111. [Original source: The Adams Papers, Adams Family Correspondence, vol. 1, December 1761 May 1776, ed. Lyman H. Butterfield. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1963, pp. 166–167.]

[2] Ibid.

[3] David McCullough, John Adams, (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2001), 84.

[4] “John Adams to Abigail Adams, 9 October 1774,” Founders Online, National Archives, https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Adams/04-01-02-0111. [Original source: The Adams Papers, Adams Family Correspondence, vol. 1, December 1761 May 1776, ed. Lyman H. Butterfield. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1963, pp. 166–167.]

[5] Ibid.

[6] Ibid.

“…To a Gentleman in Philadephia”

Fredericktown, Maryland, August 1, 1775, a gentleman on business wrote to his contact in Philadelphia the following observation of a company of volunteers answering the call to head north to Boston to join what would become the Continental Army

“Notwithstanding the urgency of my business, I have been detained three days in this place by an occurrence truly agreeable. I have had the happiness of seeing Captain Michael Cresap marching at the head of a formidable company of upwards of 130 men, form the mountains and backwoods, painted like Indians, armed with tomahawks and rifles and dressed in hunting shirts and moccasins, and though some of them had travelled near eight hundred miles from the banks of the Ohio, they seemed to walk light an easy and not with less spirit than at the first hour of their march. Health and vigour, after what they had undergone, declared them to be intimate with hardships and familiar with danger. Joy and satisfaction, were visible in the crowd that met them. Had Lord North been present, and been assured that the brave leader could raise thousands of such to defend his country, what think you, would not the hatchet and block had intruded upon his mind? I had an opportunity of attending the Captain during his stay in Town, and watched the behavior of his men, and the manner in which he treated them; for it seems that all who go out to war under him do not only pay the most willing obedience to him as their commander, but in every instance of distress look up to him as their friend or father. A great part of his time was spent in listening to and relieving their wants, without any apparent sense of fatigue and trouble. When complaints were before him he determined with kindness and spirit, and on every occasion condescended to please without losing is dignity.”

esterday the Company were supplied with a small quantity of powder from the magazine, which wanted airing, and was not good for rifles ; in the evening, however, they were drawn out to show the gentlemen of the town their dexterity at shooting. A clap board, with a mark the size of a dollar, was put up ; they began to fire at it off band, and the bystanders were surprised, few shots being made that were not close to or in the paper. When they had shot for a time in this way, some lay on their backs, some on their breast or side, others ran twenty or thirty steps, and firing, appeared to be equally certain of the mark. With this performance the company were more than satisfied, when a young man took up a board in his hand, not by the end, but by the side, and holding it up, his brother walked to the distance, and very coolly shot into the white ; laying down bis rifle, he took the board, and holding it as it was held before, the second brother shot as the former had done. By this exercise I was more astonished than pleased. But will you believe me, when I tell you, that one of the men took the board, and placing it between hia legs, stood with his back to the tree while another drove the centre. What wonld a regular army of considerable strength in the forests of America do with one thousand of these men, who want nothing to preserve their health and courage but water from the spring, with a little parched corn, with what they can easily procure in hunting ; and who wrapped in their blankets, in the damp of night, would choose the shade of a tree for their covering, and the earth for their bed.”

Although a depiction of the 1st Maryland at Guilford C.H in 1781 some of these men are dressed similar to the riflemen mentioned above (wikipedia)

*Account is in “Papers Relating Chiefly To the Maryland Line During the Revolution” Thomas Balch, editor. pgs. 6-7.