Friday, March 2, 2012

Moses Livermore, 34th Regiment of Foot

Even when we have substantial amounts of information a man, his military career sometimes follows a path that we cannot fully explain. Moses Livermore started his service in a typical enough way - as a recruit in the 46th Regiment in Ireland.

A great challenge for recruiting parties in Great Britain, and particularly in Ireland, was desertion. Men received a bounty for enlisting, and this tempting source of money led some to practice the dangerous game of bounty jumping (enlisting strictly to receive the bounty money and then deserting immediately). Other men probably simply reconsidered their decision and absconded. Recruiting officers complained that some towns made “a trade of Desertion and too often with impunity" and that the local culture facilitated desertion of recruits “whilst surrounded by their Friends and Relations who employ every allurement to prevail upon them to desert.” Although Livermore seems to have been such a man, the 46th Regiment managed to catch up to him enough times that he was eventually drummed out of the regiment because of his repeated desertions.

Continuing his antics, he enlisted again but this time into the 34th Regiment of Foot in March 1775. The 21 year old, standing six feet tall, was probably an attractive specimen for the army, but he made his way off again just three months later. Rather than lie low, he enlisted yet again, this time into the 9th Regiment of Foot. He was not, however, able to hide his past; he was claimed by the 34th Regiment and punished (probably by lashes) for his crime. Because of his stature, and certainly in spite of his unreliability, he was put into the regiment's grenadier company late in 1775.

The 34th Regiment was among those ordered to embark for the relief of besieged Quebec, and by April they were embarking on transports in Cork. Livermore deserted once again, avoiding his regiment's departure. His inability to evade capture also persisted. Although he made his was to England he was taken up as a deserter. This time he was pardoned rather than punished, and put on board ship with other recruits bound for America. Not one to be influenced by the mercy shown him, he plotted with others to steal the ship's boat and escape. When his plan was found out, he was tried, convicted and received 500 lashes.

On 21 September 1777 he finally joined his regiment in America. The grenadier company to which he officially belonged, however, was campaigning near Saratoga and would soon be made prisoners of war. Livermore remained with the eight battalion companies of the regiment in Canada, and was formally transferred into one of them at the end of the year.

Moses Livermore continued to make a poor impression on his officers. Although it is not clear when and where he saw combat, the commanding officer of the regiment indicated that "he only plays the Lion at the head of all kinds of Thievery and Mischief and is a timid lamb in the face of his Enemy." This suggests that he had other disciplinary infractions besides those of which we have direct records. When he deserted from a wood cutting party in June 1780, it was the last straw. He was quickly captured, and his commanding officer requested (from the commander in chief of the army in Canada) that he either be tried by a general court that could sentence capital punishment; short of that, the officer requested permission to drum him out of the regiment once and for all because "the loss of such a nuisance takes nothing from the strength of a Corps." The officer hoped that Livermore would be pressed into service on a navy ship, where presumably he would be less able to abscond.

Livermore was discharged from the 34th Regiment on 13 July 1780; it is not known whether he was lashed yet again as a prelude to being drummed out. Here we would expect to lose site of this incorrigible man. Rather than disappearing into the countryside or being pressed into the navy, however, he once again joined the army. Researcher Todd Braisted determined that Livermore this time chose not a regular British regiment but a Royalist corps called the Queen's Loyal Rangers serving in Quebec. He served in that organization and its Provincial successor, the Loyal Rangers, for over two years, through the last surviving rolls in early 1783. Whether he served with good discipline or continued to be "a nuisance" is not known. In 1808, Moses Livermore was living in Hawkesbury, Ontario (at that time called Upper Canada), and petitioned for a land grant as a reward for his service in the Loyal Rangers.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

John Clayton, 20th Regiment of Foot and 17th Light Dragoons

When John Clayton was discharged from the 17th Light Dragoons in September 1783, he received a standard printed discharge form with his own personal details filled in. This important document was his proof that he was legally released from military service. It states simply that Clayton had served nine years in the regiment along with standard language that he had no debts to the army or arrears due from it. But Clayton's career was considerably more interesting than the brief discharge document reveals.

Clayton was born in January 1758 in Manchester, England. He did not learn to write but did learn the trade of a butcher; like many young tradesmen he soon sought a more adventurous life. With the outbreak of war in America he enlisted as a soldier, joining the 20th Regiment of Foot at the young age of 16 or 17. He was soon bound for America. The 20th was among the regiments sent to Quebec in early 1776 to relieve the siege of that city and turn the momentum of the war in Canada back in favor of British arms. Clayton's regiment participated in a series of actions that reclaimed posts extending from Quebec down to Lake Champlain.

The following year brought the ill-fated campaign led by Lt.-General John Burgoyne that sought to secure the waterways from Quebec to Albany. In concert with troops operating out of New York city, the goal was to effectively divide the colonies into two regions that could be more easily pacified. The campaign began with splendid success including the capture of strategic Fort Ticonderoga. The young Clayton must have been full of ardor from his army's progress, but as the summer waned so too did their fortunes. A series of setbacks led to the capitulation of the army at Saratoga in October. John Clayton became a prisoner of war, but his war was far from over.

After spending a winter in crude barracks outside of Boston, followed by a long march to Albemarle, Virginia, the young Clayton had had enough of captivity. He followed the example of hundreds of other prisoners from Burgoyne's army and slipped away in July 1779 with the goal of returning to British lines. It took him longer than he'd hoped.

It took him only a few days to get to Winchester, Virginia, but there he was caught and put into jail. After a year of confinement he managed to break out and get to Fredericktown, Maryland - only to be caught and jailed once again. After a week in that town's jail, he was put in irons and marched to Fort Frederick which, in spite of the similar-sounding same, was over 150 miles from Fredericktown. Fort Frederick was used to detain British prisoners of war, but those men had become adept at escaping from it, and Clayton managed to abscond after a week or so.

He made his way to Philadelphia, where once again he was captured and put into jail. His course so far had been harrowing but hardly unique; hundreds of British prisoners of war went through similar ordeals of escape and recapture. He remained in the Philadelphia prison until the summer of 1781. He and six fellow soldier prisoners tunneled under the foundation of their cell and escaped, this time finding their way to the network of British sympathizers in Pennsylvania and New Jersey that helped countless escapee make the perilous journey to the garrison in New York. They worked their way to Barnegat Point on the New Jersey shore where a boat took them to their destination. After almost two full years as a prisoner of war, John Clayton joined the 17th Light Dragoons in late August 1779.

Although he had served in the infantry, the 5 foot 9 inch Clayton along with a number of others from Burgoyne's army joined a cavalry regiment. The 17th did include a dismounted component and it is possible Clayton served in that capacity. He also may have begun his army career in the cavalry and volunteered for the infantry in order to serve in America; several hundred cavalry men did so, but we have not found Clayton's name on any cavalry muster roll to confirm this. Regardless, he served the remainder of the war in the 17th Light Dragoons in the New York City area.

When the war ended, the army was reduced in size by disbanding some regiments and decreasing the established size of others. Soldiers eligible for discharge were given several options: return to Great Britain and be discharged there, with the possibility of receiving a pension; be discharged in New York and either re-enlist in a regiment bound for continued overseas service in Canada or the West Indies, or take a land grant in Canada and settle there; or be discharged in New York and remain in America. Clayton chose Nova Scotia, sailing there on a fleet that made its way to Port Roseway (present-day Shelburne) at the end of September 1783.

For reasons unknown, Clayton did not stay long on the rugged shores of Canada. In 1784 he made his way to Augusta, Maine, took possession of a plot of land and planted potatoes. In 1786 he married a woman named Susanna Cowan, but she and their infant child died the following year. He immediately remarried; Sally Austin was 7 years his junior and over the next 21 years the couple had at 10 children including a set of twins. After their first child was born they moved further inland to Farmington.

Although he was unable to sign his discharge from the army, instead making an X mark, local lore has it that he was "quite a poet in his own way." In addition, he remained intensely proud of his English heritage and continued to revere his former commander General Burgoyne. When a number of his children were ill at the same time, under the care of the oldest two, he composed a whimsical verse that likened his large family to his former comrades:

As my two daughters did combine,
To nurse the army of old Burgoyne;
Their nursing was good but not very lasting,
For they were granddaughters of old granny Asten.

John Clayton's wife "Granny Austin" died in 1821, and he survived her by a decade, expiring in September 1832 at 74 years of age.

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Daniel Sutherland, 80th Regiment, and Elizabeth Rezeau

This is an appropriate week to present a love story, one that illustrates the too-often overlooked impact of warfare and the itinerant military life on romance.

Daniel Sutherland was a young Scotsman who responded to the feverish call to arms that echoed throughout great Britain when France joined the war and invasion of the home islands became a real possibility. Sutherland enlisted in the 80th Regiment of Foot, a new regiment raised in the Edinburgh area in the first half of 1778. Within a year they were sent to bolster British forces in America, arriving in New York in August 1779.

Soon after arrival in America Daniel Sutherland was appointed corporal, an indication that he had taken well to military life and could be trusted with responsibility. After nearly two years of routine service in the garrison of New York the 80th Regiment boarded ships again, this time bound for Virginia. There they became part of Cornwallis's army, fighting at posts along the James River before establishing themselves in Yorktown. Here they endured the siege that sealed the course of the war. Sutherland and his fellow soldiers endured 18 months of captivity before being repatriated in early 1783.

The 80th Regiment returned to the New York area, landing on Staten Island and taking up cantonments near the town of Richmond. It was here that Daniel Sutherland's fate was sealed by forces more powerful than any adversary he had yet faced: he was smitten by love.

Sutherland met a local woman named Elizabeth Rezeau, whose father and uncle owned adjacent farms on the island. The family had pledged their loyalty to the crown when the British army arrived on the island in 1776. After fancying her from afar for some time Sutherland encountered her out walking one day among the Staten Island cherry trees, and pledged his loyalty to her.

Although sympathetic, Betsy Rezeau could not return his affections. She had been deceived by an officer from the Queen's Rangers, a regiment raised in America of men loyal to the British cause. Due either to professional obligation or romantic callousness he had abandoned her and their infant child. Her father disowned her, and she now lived with her pitying uncle. She would not cast her lot again with a soldier.

Devastated, Sutherland fell into a love-lorn malaise. He carved her name into a cherry tree where they'd spoke. He returned again and again to the spot. He lost his appetite, his strength, and his very will to live. Doctor Samuel Pleydell, surgeon's mate for the regiment, attended him to no avail.

At the beginning of August 1783, the 80th Regiment removed from Staten Island to man the lines at the northern tip of Manhattan. Daniel Sutherland bade farewell to the cherry trees and the prospect of again seeing his adorned Betsy Rezeau. On the 11th of August, he died.

This tragic story was observed by one of Sutherland's comrades in the 80th, a private soldier named Andrew Scott. Scott had a penchant for poetry, entertaining his fellow soldiers with songs of their experiences set to popular tunes. Years later, Scott published a book of songs including the one called "Betsy Rosoe." More detail about Scott, including the song lyric in its entirety, will appear in my forthcoming book British Soldiers, American War due for release in the fall of 2012.

There is a caveat that the identity of the young corporal who lost his will to live is uncertain; three corporals in the 80th Regiment died after the corps left Staten Island, one each in August, September and October. I've assumed that the first of them, Daniel Sutherland, is one about whom Scott wrote. The tale as related in Scott's song fit known facts well, even though the tragic hero cannot be identified for certain.

Sunday, February 5, 2012

Richard Taylor, 63rd Regiment, and Mary Taylor

At face value, the life and career of Richard Taylor seems typical enough. He was born in the parish of Charlton, near the town of Malmesbury in Wiltshire in about 1747. At the age of six, he went to Malmsbury to school which he attended for four years or so. He returned home, and at 14 years of age was apprenticed to a plasterer named Morley at St. Michael's Parish in the city of Bath. He was not indentured to Morley, that is, he was in training but not bound to stay for any period of time. He spent over five years in Morley's employ but before deciding he needed a change. Like many young tradesmen seeking something more interesting, he left his employer and joined the army.

Richard Taylor enlisted in the 63rd Regiment of Foot in 1767. The regiment was in Ireland at the time; he probably encountered a recruiting party at Bath, for British regiments often sent parties to various parts of the British Isles. Within two years, Taylor was in Bedford, England, probably as part of a recruiting party himself. He stayed for about a year, then returned to Ireland where he remained with the regiment until early 1775.

The 63rd Regiment was among the first reinforcements to arrive in Boston after the outbreak of hostilities on 19 April 1775. Indeed, they had embarked before the war broke out and arrived to find conditions quite different than expected. Richard Taylor apparently served well in the regiment, being appointed to corporal on 20 November. There is some evidence that he'd held that post before for a time, but this has not been confirmed.

One faced of the non-commissioned rank of corporal is that it was somewhat volatile - muster rolls show us that it was not unusual for a man to hold the position for only a few months or a year, then return to the ranks. A given man might spend several short stints as a corporal but never advance any higher, while others remained corporals for many years and others still moved through the rank to become serjeants. There are many possible reasons for this: a man could be reduced to private if his health was not sufficient to do the job of a corporal (there were only three corporals in each company); his performance in the roll might not have been suitable; he could have had disciplinary issues; or it may have been simply that another man proved even more qualified. Muster rolls tell us what happened but not why, and there are very few records of the internal workings of most regiments to answer the questions of why.

Regardless of the reason, Richard Taylor was reduced to private soldier some time in the first half of 1778, but appointed once more to corporal on 20 April 1779. On 19 March 1780 he was reduced yet again, only to be appointed once more on 24 December 1781.

It is here that we lose contact with this interesting man. No muster rolls for eight companies of the 63rd Regiment survive for the year 1782. On the rolls kept in 1783, Richard Taylor is gone. The eight battalion companies of the 63rd were prisoners of war during this time, having been incarcerated at Yorktown in October 1781. Whether Taylor died as a prisoner, deserted, escaped and joined another regiment, or was discharged from the army is not known.

There is one more facet of Richard Taylor's story that is not revealed in simple records like muster rolls. During his time in Bedford in 1768, Richard Taylor met a woman named Mary. They were married at St. Paul's Church in Bedford, but she stayed behind when he returned to his regiment in Ireland. She never heard from him again. By 1773, she was alone with a young child and seeking support as a pauper from her native parish of St. Paul's, Bedford. The poor laws, however, required her removal to her husband's last place of employment, that is, St. Michael's in Bath. It is this removal that affords us a record of the whole story, for St. Micheal's required proof that Richard Taylor had in fact been an apprentice there. A court heard the case in which Mary Taylor deposed her husband's history as she knew it. Also introduced as evidence was a deposition that Richard Taylor had given in 1768 when he was married. These two sources were accepted as proof of Richard Taylor's apprenticeship in Bath, and Mary Taylor was required to move there.

Mary Taylor was but one of many wives who remained in Great Britain while their soldier husbands served in faraway places. Some chose not to follow, some could not get passage from the army (which provided shipping for only a limited number of wives with each regiment) and could not make their own way, and some like Mary Taylor were abandoned. Regardless of the reason, some husbands never returned and some wives never learned their fate. In an age of limited communication, distance sometimes meant permanent separation.

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Owen Smith, 63rd Regiment of Foot

We have seen examples of soldiers who went to great length to desert from the army, and escaped prisoners of war who went to great lengths to return. This installment looks at a rare example of a deserter who went to great lengths to return.

In 1769, Captain Henry Bruen of the 63rd Regiment of Foot enlisted a man named Owen Smith. The recruit joined the ranks of the regiment and served dutifully until 1773 when the regiment was on duty in Dublin, Ireland. A robbery occurred and three soldiers of the 63rd, including Smith, were accused of having committed it. We haven't found any details of the robbery or desertion, but we do know that the 63rd left Dublin in early 1775. They marched to Cork, not to garrison that city but to board ships for America. The 63rd was one of four regiments to arrive in Boston within days of the battle of Bunker Hill. They continued to serve in the army under General Sir William Howe, leaving Boston in March 1776, regrouping in Halifax, landing on Staten Island in late June. By November they were in Westchester County, New York. They supported the forces that fought at White Plains and then reduced Fort Washington, but did not participate in either of those famous battles.

Owen Smith, in the mean time, initially fled from Dublin to Derry on the north coast of Ireland. He feared being arrested by civil authorities for robbery, but nonetheless wished to return to the army. He sent a letter to the Major of the regiment expressing his willingness to rejoin the ranks when the regiment left Dublin, but received no reply.

When he learned that the 63rd was bound for America, Smith determined to make good on his intentions. Derry was a seaport town, and he was able to obtain a passage across the ocean by indenting himself as a servant to a master in Philadelphia. Arriving there, he met a friend who paid twelve pounds to free him from indenture. This left him in debt to the friend, however, so he found work as a shoemaker to earn money. After six months he was able to pay his debt; he went to the town of Nottingham along the Susquehanna River where he continued to work for a while to earn money for himself.

By this time the call for soldiers was echoing throughout the country, and Owen Smith was pressured to enlist. He initially refused to bear arms but was threatened with being tarred and feathered. This induced him to consent to a four month enlistment in a Maryland regiment if he would be exempted from further service; he knew that it was the only way he'd be allowed to travel. And travel he did; with his fellow soldiers he soon arrived at Fort Lee in New Jersey, opposite Fort Washington. He learned that his own regiment was to stay in New Jersey, so he absconded and boarded a boat with some women who were on their way to the American garrison of Fort Washington.

On 16 November 1776, British forces stormed the outer works surrounding Fort Washington, forcing the garrison inside the fort to surrender. As Brigadier Samuel Cleaveland of the Royal Artillery approached the fort, he saw a man outside the gate waving his hat. Cleaveland waved back. The man approached, laid down three firelocks (muskets), and announced himself as Owen Smith, a deserter from the 63rd Regiment. He asked permission to go back and get two other men who's firelocks he'd brought, but those men refused to come. The general summoned a corporal to take Smith into British lines and asserted that Smith had surrendered himself willingly.

Owen Smith was put on trial for desertion three days later. He told the court his story, and there was no incriminating evidence against him. Captain Bruen, who has recruited Smith nine years before, was among those who testified and even remembered the letter Smith had written expressing a desire to return after the regiment left Dublin. The court nonetheless found Smith guilty and sentenced him to receive 1000 lashes. The verdict and sentence were sensible enough; regardless of Smith's reasons and his sustained effort to return, he had in fact deserted. Although this was a capital crime, the corporal sentence reflected Smith's willing return. In an act of mercy typical for cases of this nature, the commander in chief pardoned Smith and ordered him to return to his regiment.

Smith's return to the 63rd Regiment provides an example of the challenges faced by researchers in using British military documents. The muster rolls for the 63rd show Owen Smith as having been "entertained" (that is, enlisted) on 18 November 1776. While the nomenclature "returned from desertion" is often seen in muster rolls and is the proper annotation for this case, whoever prepared the roll for this time period annotated Smith in the same manner as recruits who had recently arrived from Great Britain. Were it not for the existence of the proceedings of Smith's trial, we would have no way of knowing he was the man who had deserted years before. There are other instances where names look tantalizingly similar but we can only guess whether we have a story of desertion and return or a simple case of two men with similar names.

A gap in the muster rolls of the 63rd Regiment prevents us from knowing Owen Smith's fate. He was in the regiment through the end of 1777, and no longer appears on the next available rolls covering the second half of 1778. Whether he died, was killed in battle, deserted again, was transferred to another regiment, or discharged from the army remains unknown. This is unfortunate because it would further reveal the character of this soldier who had such zeal for service that crossed an ocean to return to his regiment.

Thursday, January 12, 2012

Edward Hall, 43rd Regiment of Foot

At first glance, the case of Edward Hall of the 43rd Regiment of Foot seems typical enough. Hall, who had been enlisted in Yorkshire and became a greandier in the regiment, was absent from the 8 PM roll call in Boston on 11 October 1774. Following typical procedures his serjeant went to his tent to see if his necessaries (shirts, stockings and shoes) were missing, for soldiers who intended to desert often took extra clothing with them. The guard at Boston Neck was informed to be on the lookout for the missing soldier, and his absence was reported to the officers of the 43rd.

In the mean time, Captain Robert McLeroth of the 64th Regiment was making his way towards Castle William on a road about four miles from the British encampment in Boston. At about 11 PM he came upon two grenadiers a few yards apart from each other. He asked the first one if he had a pass, upon which both soldiers turned and ran. McLeroth gave chase and caught up with the second one, Edward Hall. Hall immediately submitted to being caught, but seemed apprehensive for the whereabouts of his comrade, Timothy Bremer, also a grenadier in the 43rd. As McLeroth escorted Hall back to camp, Hall explained that they had had a liaison with a country woman from whom they had “often received pecuniary Favours.” They were intoxicated, and she convinced them to go to a house near Dorchester, but they both intended to return to camp by morning. They were on the way to the house when McLeroth came upon them.

Hall was given over to soldiers of the 64th Regiment who ferried him to Castle William and put him into custody. He was tried by court martial two days later. Witnesses from the 43rd and 64th recounted their experiences with Hall’s absence and capture, noting in particular that Hall offered no resistance

Serjeant Thomas Rookesby of the 43rd described in detail the process of determining the disposition of Hall’s necessaries. He first “went to the Prisoner's Tent to look for the Prisoner's Knapsack which he found with only one Old Shirt & some Spatterdashes in it.” This, of course, suggested that Hall had made off with his other shirt, shoes and stockings, and Hall was reported as a deserter. The next morning, however, Rookesby made a more detailed search and found “The Shoes in the Straw of the Tent one Shirt in his Comrade's knapsack & the other his Comrade had taken down to the Washerwoman” as well as two pair of old stockings in an unspecified location. Only two pair of stockings remained missing, far less of an implication against Hall.

Edward Hall’s defense was particularly lucid and he was earnest about his actions, admitting his unauthorized absence but making a convincing case that he had no intention of deserting. He called several witnesses who corroborated his assertions, and presented closing arguments in writing. In an effort to prove his character, he deposed “That his Family being in very independent Circumstances he first entered into the Service not from Want, but Inclination. That he has always met with Treatment that left him no Reason of Complaint, and that Lt Robertson by directions from his Father, has ever been ready, to give him every assistance suitable to one in his present Station which he must have forfeited by Desertion.” Here, then, is another example of the type of British soldier that is too often overlooked in the literature: educated, from a good family, in the army fully voluntarily rather than for want of any other opportunity.

Unfortunately for Hall, the court did not appreciate his sincere and well-delivered defense. He was found guilty and sentenced to “receive one thousand lashes by the Drummers of the line… at such time and place and in such proportions as the Commanding Officer of the 43rd Regiment shall see convenient and proper.” We have no evidence that the punishment was remitted. Whether it would have dissuaded any further transgressions from Hall is moot: he died in July 1775 of wounds received at the Battle of Bunker Hill.



Tuesday, December 13, 2011

John Man, 64th Regiment

In spite of stereotyped ideas that literacy was rare among common soldiers, primary sources frequently reveal evidence of educated common soldiers. Not enough examples exist to do statistics, but at least we can see that illiteracy was not pervasive. My new book, British Soldiers, American War, expected to be released by Westholme Publishing some time in 2012, will present many examples of well-educated private soldiers.

The proceedings of courts martial sometimes reveal eloquent and sophisticated defenses offered by common soldiers. These are not necessarily examples of well-educated men in the ranks; sometimes sympathetic officers assisted in the preparation of the defense. One such defense was offered by John Man of the 64th Regiment of Foot.

Man (or Mann) enlisted in the 64th on 9 February 1768, a year before the regiment sailed for Boston. Like all recruits, he was attested and the articles of war were read to him. He apparently fared well in his early years of service and soon became the trustworthy servant of Ensign William Snowe. While Snowe was in Great Britain on a leave of absence, however, Man deserted. He was absent from the regiment from 5 April until 10 August 1773 when he returned to the regiment on his own volition. For this indiscretion he was tried by a regimental court martial and sentenced to received 600 lashes, but the commanding officer of the regiment pardoned him.

In 1774 Snowe, now a Lieutenant, returned to the regiment in Boston. Whether he learned of Man’s transgression or whether Man simply feared that he would is not clear, but Man indicated that he felt he had dishonored both his master and his sovereign. Driven (as he said) by shame, he collected his pay on 26 July and obtained a pass to go into town. He never returned, and was reported as a deserter on 1 August. It is especially interesting that General Gage had issued a proclamation on 9 July, effective through 10 August, offering free pardon to any deserters who returned during that time; the proclamation, however, clearly stated that it would not apply to men who deserted after the pardon was proclaimed. Man, who was surely aware of the pardon, could not avail himself of it if he chose to return.

On 19 September 1774, about seven weeks after John Man’s desertion from Boston, a sober man calling himself John Simmel enlisted in the 47th Regiment of Foot in New York. The serjeant major of the 47th gave two New York shillings to the new recruit and sent him in the care of a serjeant to be attested before a magistrate. On the way to the magistrate’s offices, however, the recruit stopped the serjeant and said that he would not be attested because he was a deserter from the 64th Regiment. He was brought back to the serjeant major and confined. Soon after, the 47th was ordered to Boston. Transport ships were sent to New York to receive them and they embarked in mid-October, including among their baggage their prisoner, John Man.

When the 47th arrived in Boston, Man was confined, apparently for convenience, in the guard house of the 65th regiment. He wore clothing provided by the 47th. Man was put on trial in Boston on 1 November and charged with desertion, to which he pleaded not guilty. Testimony from two serjeants of the 64th acquainted the court with the circumstances of his enlistment, attestation, remuneration and previous desertion from the 64th, while the two serjeants of the 47th described his attempt to enlist and his subsequent confession. The court was particular to ask whether, at the time of Man’s confession, the 47th had received orders to embark for New York and whether transports had arrived for them. Both men testified that they had not received such orders nor had the transports arrived. This apparently told the court that Man did not give himself up because he knew that he would be discovered upon his arrival in Boston; he must have had a more honorable motive for turning himself in.

When Man was called to defend himself he presented an elegantly phrased defense:

Worthy Gentlemen,

I am exceedingly sorry to be the unhappy Cause of giving you any trouble, Particularly, as I must confess I was always used in the most lenient manner by every Officer, Non- Commissioned Officer and Soldier in the Regiment.

Each time of my Desertion I had such offers & Insinuations from these designing Bostonians and Country people that, deluded by their first making me drink to excess and then conveying me away in an obscure manner, lending & assisting all help and means to forward me from my Regt especially the last time of my Desertion, that I was tempted to do what I have since sincerely repented of as well in respect of my Ingratitude to Lt Snow as the wrong I have done my King. Mr Snow was always an indulgent master to me, & my having deserted the first time on his leave of Absence, from the Insinuations and treachery of wicked people (and to which cause alone, I hope the Honble Court will impune my first Desertion, as it appears from the Evidence on my tryal that I returned of my own accord) and Lt Snow not being with the Regt when I joined, a sense of Shame on hearing he was coming to the Regt for my ingratitude to so kind a Master, with the Allurements of those designing Men, tempted me again to leave my Colours, rather than encounter the displeasure of a Master I had used ill. I beg leave further to assure the Court that having on this last Desertion been carried so far from my Regt by the Treachery of those people, it was Poverty, Want & Hunger made me take for immediate support, the Money offered me to inlist in the 47th Regt and not a Design to cheat my King & Country & which I trust my Instantly giving myself up as a Deserter will in a great measure prove. These, Gentlemen, are the only excuses I have to offer for the great crime I have been guilty of and which I have the greatest detestation and endeavoured to show a thorough conviction of my Guilt when I first appeared before you by openly confessing it.

Shou'd these reasons and my sincere repentance of my crime intercede with the Honble Court to extend their mercy to their Humble Petitioner he will be ever bound to pray for them and will be always ready to sacrifice a Life, which he shall owe to them, against the Enemies of his King and Country.

After this dissertation, Man called two officers of the 64th as character witnesses. Lt. Michael Jacob deposed that, in the year between Man’s two desertions, they had been in the same company and that Man behaved well. Lt. Snowe offered that in the five years he had known Man he had never known him to misbehave (with the exception of the desertions). He added the significant fact that, at the time of his desertion, Man “had the Care” of all of Snowe’s possessions and did not abscond with any of them.

Man’s defense that he had been coerced to desert by Boston citizens was later used by other soldiers, but we don't know if it was truly a common occurrence or if it was instead a popular excuse. The officers on the court may have known of other soldiers who claimed to have been effectively kidnapped rather than deserted. Regardless, the court could not but find Man guilty since he had obviously deserted, no matter the circumstances. The fact that Man had willingly given himself up strongly influenced the court, however, as did the “Exceeding good Character given him by his Officers.” Man was sentenced to receive one thousand lashes in four equal proportions at separate times.

We have no information on to what extent the punishment was carried out. Man continued to serve in the regiment, well enough to be transferred into the light infantry in 1776. He soon became a prisoner of war, but was exchanged in August 1778. Unfortunately, there are no muster rolls for the 64th Regiment for the year 1779, and Man is no longer on the rolls in 1780. We do not know the fate of this interesting soldier.