Washington Orville Hampton remembers when North America was an unsettled wilderness and there were no giant sporting goods stores anchoring malls where buffalo once grazed.
I had the misfortune of discovering a dead man this evening while walking through North Boston. As I passed Christ’s Church I heard a shouting from above and looked up to see two shadows fighting in the bell tower. I couldn’t see them very well as only a single lantern was hung and my feeble light didn’t extend that high.
While it is not generally my purpose to interpose myself into the business affairs of others, it seemed that one of the men was wearing a red jacket and with the “Sons of Liberty” so active, I was concerned for his safety.
I rushed into the church and made for the bell tower. While climbing the ladder – no mean feat for one of my stature – I heard to most horrible scream and then the struggle stopped. I reached the top and steeled myself for the worst.
I found the corpse of a man who had been recently stabbed to death but there was no sign of his assailant. I came all of the way up and raised my lantern into the air and cast about. There was a rope dangling and I saw the chap in the red jacket running off.
I am not a doctor and there was nothing I could do for the poor dead man, so I shut off his lantern lest it caught the church on fire, and descended with my own light.
I went to the barracks to report the incident only to discover that the garrison had been rowed across the river and were on their way to Lexington at that very hour. This cannot be good. I must book passage back to Europe first thing in the morning.