The Price of Loyalty: The Case of Benjamin Marston

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The Price of Loyality: The Case of Benjamin Marston.
Violet Mary-Ann Showers

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THE PRICE OF LOYALTY: THE CASE OF BENJAMIN MARSTON

A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF MASTER OF ARTS in the Department of History

This thesis is accepted. Dean of Graduate Studies

Violet Mary-Ann Showers, B.A. (Hons.) U.S.L. 1979
THE UNIVERSITY OF NEW BRUNSWICK December, 1982
[copyright] Violet Mary-Ann Showers, 1982

ABSTRACT

One of the most hotly debated issues in Loyalist history is how much the American Loyalists suffered on account of their loyalty. Some scholars have stressed that all Loyalists were victims of the revolution, and incurred irreparable losses. There are others who hold that Loyalists were opportunists who greatly exaggerated their sufferings in order to obtain favours from the British Government, and to enhance their positions in their new homes. One way of providing an objective view is to move away from general studies and examine in detail cases of individuals or small groups. To this end, this thesis undertakes to trace the life of one American Loyalist after the outbreak of the revolution, in an attempt to show how much his life was affected because of the stand he took in the great conflict.

In many respects, Benjamin Marston (1730-1792) was a stereotype Loyalist: he was from one of the most renowned families of Massachusetts; was a Harvard graduate; and a land owner and prosperous merchant. Blessed with domestic happiness, wealth, and affluence, Benjamin Marston enjoyed a tranquil and comfortable life. This was brought to a dramatic close at the onset of the revolution, when it was discovered that he was a Loyalist. From 1775, when he fled Marblehead, Massachusetts, until his death in 1792, there was one distinct, continuous thread in his life -- the desire to restore his shattered fortunes. Everything he did was geared to this end. In his determination, he pursued a chequered career in New Brunswick and Nova Scotia as sea merchant, surveyor, sheriff, and scientist. But all to no avail, he did not attain his goal. He spent most of his remaining seventeen years, after his flight from Marblehead, overcoming one tragedy after another. His greatest asset was his optimistic nature. He accommodated all his problems with an unshaken hope for a bright future, usually flavoured with a sense of humour. This bright future was never to be, but the thought kept him going, and most probably, without it he would not have survived as long as he did.

This study relies heavily on primary sources, the most valuable of which is Marston's own diary. From 1775 to 1787, he recorded, very often in great depth, even the most minute event in his life, and those occurring around him. Fortunately, largely through the efforts of the late Rev. William 0. Raymond, a pioneer New Brunswick historian, this diary has been preserved intact. Equally detailed are Marston's letters to his relatives and friends, which have also proved very useful in the writing of this thesis. Marston's own accounts are supplemented by those of contem- poraries -- his relatives, friends, and superiors -- contained in various family manuscript collections and official letter books.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

My thanks are due to the following people for their contribution to the preparation of this thesis: my supervisor, Prof. Wallace Brown, for his valuable suggestions and guidance; Mrs. Catherine Hilder of the Harriet Irving Library, for helping me locate some primary source material; Mrs. Olive Cameron of the University of New Brunswick Archives, for giving me permission to use the originals of Benjamin Marston's diary; and finally, the staffs of the Manuscript Division of the Provincial Archives of New Brunswick, the New Brunswick Museum Archives, the Provincial Archives of Nova Scotia, and the Public Archives of Canada, for the assistance they rendered during my research.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION 1

Chapter I. THE "SACRIFICE" BEGINS, 1775-1783 13

II. CHIEF SURVEYOR OF SHELBURNE, 1783-1784 40

III. REFUGE IN NEW BRUNSWICK, 1785-1786 73

IV. THE LAST SEARCH FOR COMPENSATION 1787-1792 105

CONCLUSION 137

APPENDIXES I. ADDRESS OF THE INHABITANTS OF MARBLEHEAD TO GOV. HUTCHINSON 145

II. COMMISSIONER PEMBERTON'S NOTES ON BENJAMIN MARSTON'S CLAIM FOR COMPENSATION 147

III. POEM COMPOSED BY BENJAMIN MARSTON 151

BIBLIOGRAPHY 152

INTRODUCTION

"He that is not a supporter of the independent States of America, in the same degree that his religious and political principles would suffer him to support the government of any other country, of which he called himself a subject, is in the American sense of the word, A TORY; and that instant he endeavours to bring his Toryism into practice, he becomes A TRAITOR."¹ This was Thomas Paine's definition of a Loyalist. Like Paine, many rebels regarded Loyalists as cowardly criminals. Their crime was loyalty to the British Crown, for which they must pay the price. The revolutionaries saw to it that they did.

Harassment of those who, in one way or another indicated their opposition to the rebellion, began even before the declaration of independence. Mob action was the most common way of punishing Loyalists. The first serious mob action occurred as early as August 26, 1765, when Thomas Hutchinson, Chief Justice and Lieutenant Governor of Massachusetts, and his family were attacked. Although the Hutchinsons succeeded in fleeing from the supper table into the streets, the mob practically demolished the house, and much valuable property was destroyed or scattered. As news of this event became known, people of all political persuasions everywhere in the colonies were shocked at such "savageness unknown in a civilized country." As Bernard Bailyn points out, the mob of August 26, 1765, was the most violent seen in the entire course of the revolution.² it was, however, merely the first of a series.

The riots followed basically the same pattern -- the angry crowd rushed to the houses of the "traitors," and destroyed their property. Many victims were fortunate to escape without being caught. The less fortunate who fell into the hands of the crowd were subjected to all sorts of torture. Soon, the classic Whig treatment of those Tories who were caught became "Tarring and Feathering."³ It was the most inhuman punishment the revolutionaries inflicted on the Loyalists, and largely because of this fact, the British Government believed that there was no better proof of loyalty than enduring this punishment.⁴ The callous process of this punishment was described by a contemporary thus: The following is the Receipe for an effectual operation. First strip a Person naked, then heat the Tar until it is thin, and pour it upon the naked Flesh, or rub it over with a Tar Brush, quantum sufficit. After which, sprinkle decently upon the Tar, whilst it is yet warm, as many Feathers as will stick to it. Then hold a lighted Candle to the Feathers, and try to set it all on Fire; if it will burn, so much the better. But as the Experiment is often made in cold weather; it will not then succeed -- take also an Halter and put it round the Person's Neck, and then cart him the Rounds.⁵

Some punishments were usually the result of legislation or government action, although there was no unanimity on how the rebel governments should deal with the Tories. The treatment of the "traitors" varied according to time, place and circumstance. But one law common to all the States was that which required inhabitants to take oaths of allegiance to the new regime, faith in the revolution, and abjuration of George III. Those who refused to comply were penalized in various ways such as imprisonment, disfranchisement, withdrawal of legal rights, banishment and confiscation.

Thomas Jefferson recorded in his Notes on Virginia that "not a single execution for treason took place." But Jefferson's statement is wrong. There is ample evidence which shows that although the exact number of executions is not known, death constituted one of the rebel forms of punishment. There were, of course, the unofficial, mobbish lynchings. But some of the executions were legal. In January, 1777, Massachusetts passed an act which prescribed death as the punishment for "the crime of adhering to Great Britain." Pennsylvania had a "Black List" which contained the names of some 490 persons who were sentenced to death. However, in both these states, the death penalty was not always carried out, only a few Loyalists were actually led to the gallows.⁶

Although the rebel leaders were convinced that the traitors deserved to die, most, it seems, did not favour the idea of having them killed, perhaps because they were aware of the impact such a penalty would have on the revolutionary cause, especially on the opinion of outside observers. For example, George Washington in a letter to John Washington noted: With respect to the Tory, who was tried and executed by your order, though his crime was heinous enough to deserve the fate he met with, and though I am convinced you acted in the affair with a good intention, yet I cannot but wish it had not happened. . . . The temper of the Americans and the principles on which the present contest turns will not countenance proceedings of this nature.⁷

Rebel journalists were not as cautious as Washington: Whig newspapers of the period are full of accounts of executions -- a factor which has caused those scholars familiar with the sources to believe that the number of executions was indeed substantial.⁸ Whatever the exact number of executions, the important point here is that death was one of the ways in which Loyalists paid for their loyalty.

Like all conflicts of comparable magnitude, the American revolution caused a lot of mental strain. The group most susceptible to this was the Loyalists. For many, life after the outbreak of the revolution was unbearable; they had lost their property, been imprisoned, flogged, tarred and feathered, or forced to leave their homes and loved ones. Consequently, many became mad, died or committed suicide.⁹

Nevertheless, not all Loyalists ended their lives in tragedy. The degree of suffering varied. A few were fortunate enough to have been left practically undisturbed throughout the entire course of the revolution, in spite of their indicating some sort of loyalty to the Crown. This was what happened in the case of the Reverend John Tyler of Norwich, Connecticut. At the onset of the rebellion, he chose to close his church and continue holding services in his own home, rather than omit the prayer for the King. But he was not subjected to violence, imprisonment or any kind of molestation.¹⁰ Some Loyalists were smart enough to make arrangements for their property, so that after the war, they were able to easily re-possess them. One way of doing this was that used by Ward Chipman who signed over his real and personal property to his mother and sister. They were allowed to enjoy it throughout the war.¹¹

After the peace negotiations in November, 1782, instead of the promised end to confiscations and further suffering, there was ostracism, persecution, and new miseries for the Loyalists. This was especially true for New York, where until the end of the war, Loyalists had been active. Many of them decided to leave at the end of the war. Interestingly, while they were making arrangements to leave the United States, some Loyalists were planning to return to less violent areas like Connecticut, from where some happily reported that "the fierce spirit of Whigism was dead."¹² Some were glad to be back in their native land. But most of them did not return. Not that they were necessarily happier in exile; some Loyalists, until they died, did not quite adjust, and were regarded as strangers in their new homes. Ironically, this was particularly the case for those who remained in England.¹³ It is intriguing to note that some people benefited from their decision to remain loyal to Britain. This fact specifically applies to the black Loyalists. Unlike many of the white Loyalists, the blacks did not have anything to lose: they had little or no property to be confiscated; and separation from loved ones was painful, but was something that most of them were already accustomed to, given the mechanisms of slavery.¹⁴ Those slaves who ran away to join the British ranks were very willing to do so, being lured by Lord Dunmore's promise of freedom. They were not disappointed, because they began to reap the fruits of their loyalty almost immediately. To quote a runaway slave: "To escape the cruelty of my master, I determined to go to Charlestown and throw myself into the hands of the English. They received me readily and I began to feel the happiness of liberty, of which I knew nothing before."¹⁵ Unfortunately, when they got to Nova Scotia, their hopes soured as it dawned on them that liberty did not mean equality. Nevertheless, life in Nova Scotia, where they were paid -- although meagre sums -- for jobs they did, was certainly an improvement on their past life in the former colonies.

As for those who were later repatriated to Sierra Leone in 1792, they gained more than they had bargained for. Once in Sierra Leone, they preferred to call themselves Nova Scotians, and because of the preferential treatment which they received from the Directors in charge of the colony (who wanted to make them a model for future developments in Africa) they began to feel socially superior to the native Africans around them.¹⁶ The black Loyalists belong to a group often regarded as the losers of the American Revolution. But one wonders how much of a loser they were. After all, on account of their loyalty, they got what they desired most -- their freedom, something for which their counterparts in the United States had to wait another three generations.

The foregoing analysis is intended to bring out a very important point: that while it is reasonable to agree with scholars like Lorenzo Sabine and Claude Van Tyne who stress that the Loyalists suffered greatly because of their loyalty, we must not forget that the consequences of loyalty differed according to individual, group and circumstance. General studies are very valuable because of the range of issues which they encompass. Nonetheless, special case studies of groups or individuals are necessary to supplement these general studies. It is with this view in mind that I undertake the present study, which focuses on the life of an American Loyalist after the outbreak of the revolution, in order to determine the consequences of his decision to remain loyal.

Benjamin Marston, born on September 30, 1730, came from one of the renowned families of pre-revolutionary Massachusetts. His mother was a Winslow, a grand-daughter of one of the passengers on the celebrated Mayflower, which landed at Plymouth Rock in 1620. His father, a graduate of Harvard College, was one of the most prosperous merchants in Salem, Massachusetts. He was also a well known public figure. According to the Salem town records, "he was chosen representative to the general court in 1727, 28 and 29; he was High Sheriff of Essex until 1737; and was Justice of General Session and Common Pleas Courts." Upon his death in 1754, his wife and son inherited a large part of his estate including 170 acres of land in Manchester, New Hampshire, known as Marston farm. He also stipulated that part of his estate should be used for propagating the gospel among the Indians."¹⁷

Coming from such a family, there is little wonder that Benjamin Marston should spend the early part of his life in peace and comfort. He graduated from Harvard in 1749 with a law degree. After his graduation, he travelled extensively, visiting some other British colonies and some European countries.¹⁸ An important landmark in Marston's life is the year 1755, when he married Sarah Sweet of Marblehead, Massachusetts. Lured by the business prospects of that town,¹⁹ after his marriage, he decided to leave Salem and settle there. He entered into a lucrative business partnership with his brothers-in-law, Jeremiah Lee, and Robert Hooper, who was better known in Marblehead as King Hooper. Marston could not have wished for a better business partner; Hooper was certainly one of the wealthiest and most influential businessmen in Marblehead. In the 1750s and 60s, he held a virtual monopoly of the fishing industry of that town. It is recorded: "For awhile, he purchased all the fish brought into Marblehead, sent it to Balboa and other ports of Spain and received gold and silver in return, with which he purchased goods in England."²⁰

By the 1770s, through the influence of his brother-in-law, and by his own knack for business, Benjamin Marston had become a prosperous businessman in his own right. The most extensive research into Marston's life before the revolution, was done by the Reverend John Watson, a relative of Marston's. After a careful examination of the schedule of Marston's property, which he left in the possession of Watson's father, and some documents in the Marblehead town records, Watson concludes: By 1775 when he left this country, he was a very rich man; he owned a store in King Street and other stores and warehouses; and jointly with his partners -- who were his brothers-in-law -- several large ships, one of which was called the Salisbury and was in the London trade; besides other vessels. He owned a pleasant and commodious dwelling-house and much real estate and other property in Marblehead and elsewhere. He also owned a large and well-selected library, partly inherited from his father, and partly purchased for him in London.²¹

> In addition to the above, Marston himself mentioned in his claims for compensation that he owned a few Negro slaves.²²

The town records of Marblehead also show that Marston was a well-known public figure. He was appointed Moderator of town meetings fourteen times in the period 1765 to 1774. He was also a senior member of several committees which included the education committee, the committee for the relief of the poor, and the committee responsible for the construction of public buildings.²³

There is no doubt about the peaceful and prosperous life Benjamin Marston led before the rebellion. Indeed if some of his contemporaries in Marblehead had had the opportunity to write an epitaph on his gravestone, that epitaph might have been what Watson was told during his research: "he was considered by his friends and neighbours as a man of pure life and great integrity of character, active in business, energetic in public matters, hospitable and benevolent in private; and a great reader and scholar, fond of literary pursuits; and always occupying one of the most respectable positions in the society and greatly esteemed by all who knew him."²⁴

Benjamin Marston was enjoying his wealth and affluence in a sober and useful manner when the American Revolution broke out, and with it, an upheaval of all aspects of his hitherto well-led life.

Chapter I
THE "SACRIFICE" BEGINS 1775-1783

It is a year this day since I left M'hd, in which time I have seen more variety than in all my life before. I have lived in a town beseiged, on board ships -- both of war and others -- have lain in the woods, have been taken and now am in prison and not worth a groat. Oh what a sacrifice. -Benjamin Marston, 1776¹

By the dawn of the 1770s, the life of Benjamin Marston had begun to take a different turn. He was already suspected of being a Loyalist, and was beginning to feel the repercussions of his decision. His business was slowly falling as some of his townsmen began to boycott him; and frequent appointments to respectable town committees soon became for him, a thing of the past. It was quite clear that the heyday of Benjamin Marston in Marblehead was over.²

What exactly did Marston do to arouse the suspicion of his rebel townsmen? John Watson was the first researcher to suggest that Marston was an "active and outspoken" Loyalist.³ In more recent years, many other scholars have concurred with him.⁴ Unfortunately, there are no records which point to his contribution to the Loyalist cause. Unlike some Loyalists who frequently recalled their activities, Marston recorded many things in his diary, but never mentioned, not even once, his activities as a Loyalist. However, in his petition for compensation, he mentioned, for obvious reasons, that he declared his sentiments "freely and publicly in favour of the British government."⁵ It is reasonable to believe that he was in fact telling the truth. it seems that he ranked among the active Loyalists of Marblehead, and indeed Massachusetts. For one thing, he was among those Loyalists who were mentioned by name in the Banishment Act of that State. Secondly, judging from his frankness later when he became Surveyor of Shelburne, we can safely surmise that he was just as outspoken during the great debate.

Nevertheless, Marston did not prove to his townsmen that he was a Loyalist by his mouth, but by his pen -- in fact, by his mere signature. In May 1774, after enduring a substantial amount of persecution, Governor Thomas Hutchinson decided to leave the troubled colony of Massachusetts for England. On his departure, more than 200 merchants, lawyers and some other citizens of Boston, Salem and Marblehead presented him with addresses approving his administration, desiring his prosperity and expressing the wish that he would do something upon his arrival in England, to restore peace. Benjamin Marston was one out of thirty-three inhabitants of Marblehead who signed the address presented to the ex-governor from that town.⁶

As James Stark correctly points out, the importance of the addresses is out of all proportion to their apparent significance.⁷ Read today, they seem like normal farewell speeches, but for the patriots, they were clear signs of treason. The Addressers, as the signatories soon came to be known, were at once branded traitors.

What were the factors that might have prompted Marston's loyalty? Watson, who was a relative of Marston's, maintained that: "it was from no personal considerations; from no expectation of honours and rewards, or desire of rank and distinction, but simply from a deep conviction of duty, a clear sense of loyalty to the British Crown, that he gave up everything that was dear to him."⁸ But were Marston's motives that simple and selfless? Unfortunately, again, Marston himself did not clearly point out what influenced him the most to cling to Britain. We can only speculate.

Marston, like many of his kind, was conservative. He could not bear to see the old order change because he felt more comfortable within a system he was familiar with than one that might turn out to be chaotic. He had every reason to desire the continuation of the old order; after all, it was a system in which he thrived. Portions of the address to Hutchinson testify to this. In that document, the addressers lamented the fact that with the governor's departure, their prosperity was in jeopardy: this is the only way we now have of expressing to you our entire approbation of your public conduct during the time you have presided in this province and of making you a return of our sincere and hearty thanks for the ready assistance which you have at all times afforded us, when applied to in matters which affected our navigation and commerce . . . . We cannot omit the opportunity of returning you in a particular manner our most sincere thanks for your patronizing our cause in the matter of entering and clearing the fishing vessels at the custom-house and making the fishermen pay hospital money; we believe, it is owing to your representation of the matter that we are hitherto free from that burden.

Thus, among other considerations, for these favours, the addressers were sad to see Hutchinson leave, and close at his heels, a system which to a great extent, had worked to their advantage. We must not forget that Marston was one of these addressers.

There is no doubt that his choice was partly based on the odds. Until Yorktown, Marston like other Loyalists, was convinced that the rebels could not win. Britain was the most powerful nation in the world, her navy, the supreme commander of the sea. In 1776, Marston noted: What a miserable figure must such a new raised raw undisciplined, unprovided body of people make [the rebel army] when opposed to experienced veteran troops well provided with everything necessary to live in the field, and commanded by officers of a general who has acquired the knowledge and skill in the art of war by long service and by being engaged against the best troops in the world. Their infatuation is beyond all example -- God have mercy upon them and open their eyes.⁹

He also had a poor opinion of the leaders of the rebellion. They were mere puppets who did not have the experience and ability of the policy makers in the British administration. When he heard that many essential commodities were scarce and expensive in the new States, he remarked: "the new order is so chaotic, and yet this miserably deceived people are made to believe they can support an independency."¹⁰ Indeed, that was how he felt from the beginning -- the rebellion was absolutely incapable of succeeding, and Britain was bound to regain control of her colonies. Thus, the desire to stick with the superior and more orderly side seems to have been an important factor in Marston's decision to remain loyal. However, it must be emphasized that with regards to his motives, we can only surmise.

The ink was hardly dry on the parchment before the persecution of the Addressers began. Somehow, a major attack on Marston did not occur until a little over a year after the "addressing" incident. However, it is very likely that he was molested in the intervening period, because according to the town records, he had begun to dispose of some of his property. On November 24, 1775, the mob, which by that time was quite common, directed its violence at him. The immediate cause of this attack is unknown. "The crowd destroyed some parts of his house, broke open his desks, embezzled his money and notes, and carried off some of his books and accounts."¹¹ Fortunately, he escaped, but not without some difficulty. It was a cold November night and he had to flee, taking nothing with him, not even sufficient clothing.¹² He travelled all night in an open boat, and later arrived in Boston where he joined other Loyalists who had been seeking refuge at the British garrison. His wife, possibly because of the strain caused by the attack on their house and the flight of her husband, died shortly after, in the summer of 1776. From the records available, it is evident that they did not have any children.

Meanwhile, Marston tried to build up a new life for himself. In a letter to his business associates, he mentioned that he had been able to collect about [pound sterling] 250 debts since he arrived in Boston, and that he was planning a voyage to the West Indies in order to buy some goods which he would sell to the British military officers on his return.¹³ But this plan, like so many of his plans in his remaining sixteen years, did not materialize. On March 17, 1776, General William Howe received orders to evacuate Boston immediately. This disastrous turn of events had come about very suddenly. The Tories, always confident that the well-equipped British battalions would easily rout the mobbish rebel forces, were flabbergasted and completely unprepared for the personal upheaval involved in the evacuation order. Over eleven hundred of them were forced to depart with the British forces. They were sent to Halifax, where their misfortunes continued. They were faced with two immediate problems. The first was accommodation. According to reports which reached George Washington from Halifax, "the soldiers were obliged to encamp, although the ground was covered with snow, and the Loyalists had to pay six dollars for sorry upper rooms and stowed in them, men, women, and children, as thick as the hair upon their heads."¹⁴ The second problem was unemployment. The refugees were uprooted to Halifax at a time when the town was ill-prepared for their arrival. Even the pre-Loyalists themselves were encountering serious difficulties in getting jobs.¹⁵

It is not known how Marston grappled with the first problem. He does not mention in his diary or any of his letters, where he lived on arriving in Halifax. The second problem did not exist for him. It was not his intention to seek government employment. He was determined that he would rebuild his career as a businessman.

Obviously, he still had the money he had collected in Boston, because within two months, he was a share-holder in a commercial venture. This time, his partners were Dr. John Prince of Halifax and George Ervin, an English merchant. They purchased a vessel, the Earl Percy, for the purpose of engaging in the West Indian trade. By the first week of June, 1776, they were ready to embark on the first voyage. Their timing was perfect, because General Howe had just been ordered to proceed from Halifax to New York with his army, so the Earl Percy was able to get the protection of the British fleet during the first and most dangerous part of the voyage. (This danger was the result of the activities of American privateers which plied the Atlantic coast.)

The voyage was uneventful, but very long. They arrived at Roseau, the capital of Dominica, after forty days. The length of the journey marred the results of the venture, because as Marston explained, by the time they got to their destination, a great part of their cargo, which was mainly fish, was unsuitable for the market. Consequently, they made an "indifferent sale."¹⁶ Nevertheless, they acquired enough money to purchase some goods for sale, when they got back to Halifax. But this was not to happen. An American privateer, the Eagle, captured the Earl Percy only a couple of hours before they were supposed to have anchored in the Halifax harbour. Given this circumstance, it is not difficult to imagine how annoying this event must have been for Marston and his colleagues.

The Earl Percy and its passengers were taken to Plymouth, Massachusetts, on the orders of the Captain of the privateer, Elijah Freeman Paine, who was anxious to show off his prize. Marston found himself, perhaps sooner than he expected, back among his relatives and friends. But it was a sad homecoming, not the type he had hoped for. He was a prisoner. The day after their arrival, he was brought before the Committee of Safety, which decided that he should be confined to jail. That night, as he sat in his cell, he decided to describe the members of the committee, in his diary. His description shows his anger and disappointment, but more importantly, it reflects how contemptuous and sarcastic he could be -- two traits which he frequently displayed: These are the men who sent me to jail: 1. "Deacon Tory," Chairman, a true Deacon. 2. Captain Weston; he owes his existence to the very people he is now insulting. His wig and head would fill a corn basket. 3. Deacon Diamond, a pious whining body. 4. Mr. Drew, a gentleman with a ragged jacket and I think, a leather apron. 5. * * * somebody I could not see, he sat in the dark and I forgot his name. 6. Silas Bartlett, a good sort of man, made a tool to serve the purpose of the occasion. 7. Mr. Mayhew, a simpering how-do-you-do-sorry-for-your loss kind of body. 8. D. Lorthrop, one that has been handsomely and kindly entertained in my house. He can do dirty work. 9. Mr. Crosswell, a youngish looking kind of body.

¹⁷

By this time, Marston's life had taken a dramatic turn. Until his flight from Marblehead, he was a man who did not know hardship. How did he cope with this unfamiliar phase in his life? While he was still in jail, he wrote a letter to Dr. Prince assuring him that he was happy and satisfied because he was in good health, and that that was what mattered the most to him.¹⁸ But in fact, he was very depressed. What bothered him most was the restriction on his movements. He first admitted his melancholy to himself when he recorded in his diary that his enemies would not allow him to go anywhere, not even to church services. He felt that by so doing, they were treating him as if he did not have a soul, or that going to church would not do him any good. He was so frustrated, that he added that he himself was convinced that indeed going to church would not save his soul.¹⁹ A few days later, he poured his heart (in an elegant style) to a friend, Stephen Sewall: Of my present situation; Quite unlike yours, who now at ease Can ramble wheresoe-er you please, In town or out, on foot or nag on, To church, to Burdick's or the Dragon; While I poor D____ I am here confined (A state which no way suits my mind) For being -- you all know the story. A sad incorrigable Tory.²⁰

In the same letter, he admitted that it would be a great comfort to him if he saw an old friend he could chat with. He also implored Sewall to go to a certain Tom in Marblehead, and collect some of his books, because he was beginning to feel that "his intellectual ability was languishing in jail."

The American Tories have left many accounts of the cruelty of the rebels. Nevertheless, there were many occasions when the rebels proved to be very lenient. For instance, the very Committee of Safety which Marston had so sarcastically described, agreed after only a few days, that he should be transferred to the house of his bail, his cousin William Watson. The committee explained that, left to the members alone, he would have been allowed complete freedom, but that it was the wish of the people that he should be put under house arrest. This explanation was unacceptable to Marston, who knew that he was not a marked Loyalist in Plymouth. Instead, he was convinced that the continuation of his captivity was the doing of only one person -- J -- W Esq. whom he claimed, wanted to "satisfy his malice and revenge." He was so domineering, that he easily got members of the committee to do whatever he recommended.²¹ This J -- W Esq. was undoubtedly one of Marston's relatives, James Warren, who was a prominent member of the Plymouth Committee of Correspondence. He was at loggerheads with his mother's Winslow relatives. The exact cause of this enmity is not known, but the records show that whenever he had the opportunity, Warren tried to hurt his relatives. Marston was not the only one who complained. For example, Sarah Winslow, sister of Edward Winslow, once referred to Warren as "the compleatest Devil that was ever suffered to live."²² Marston was justified for suspecting his estranged cousin of wickedly prolonging his sentence.

Whatever the real reasons for his house arrest, it is quite clear that he was satisfied with the results of the new arrangement. He wrote to Dr. Prince: "I am confined to a private house, with liberty of the yard and garden. I am in perfect health and in danger of growing too fat through idleness and good living."²³ The committee also granted him some amount of freedom of movement: he was allowed to attend church services. This was such a big thing to him that he observed: "The occurrences of my life are at present so unimportant, that going to meeting has become a remarkable transaction. So that I put it down this day, I went to meeting all day and heard the Revd. Mr. Brown preach about nothing."²⁴ Another sarcastic observation, but his life was so monotonous that even a boring preacher was more than welcome.

To add to his woes, he lost his fight for the Earl Percy. As soon as he was safely in his cousin's house, he sent a letter to the Registrar of the Maritime Boats office, claiming his vessel, which had been seized by Paine, the captain of the privateer. He was advised to appoint a lawyer and take the case to court. He got a Mr. Whitmore, with whom he made a convenient agreement, by which Whitmore should be paid his fees, only if his client won the case. Unfortunately even before the trial commenced, a judge ordered that the vessel should be sold at a public auction. Even the cargo, which was non-perishable, being rum and cocoa, was not returned to Marston. In one day, he lost all he owned. His partners also lost what they had put into the venture, but unlike him, they had other business concerns. He was crushed; but he did not try to question the judge's decision. Even if he had wanted to, he was in no position, because he was just a powerless Tory in the midst of rebels. Moreover, apparently, he was told that the judge's decision was an "accident." In a letter to Capt. Paine, he said: "But if it has been owing to unavoidable accident, I have not a word to say. I shall not prosecute that matter any further, I have now no other object in view, but to obtain my liberty and return to Nova Scotia as soon as I can. "²⁵

Throughout this unpleasant period in Plymouth, there was only one thing which helped to cheer Marston up -- his hopes for a bright future. In his mind, nothing lit the future brighter, than the inevitable doom of the rebellion. Still in confinement, he followed the conflict very closely. He did not hide his delight at the reports of chaos and hardship which reached him. He kept wondering why his "deluded countrymen" should continue to fail to see the trouble they were heading for, in spite of the fact that anarchy was evident. He recorded, presumably with some hope: Salt is now 10 shillings ster. per bushel; flour about 6 dollars per cwt; woolens and linnens are scarcely to be had. Bread corn has got to a price which was hardly ever known of in times of greatest dearth, and yet there was scarcely ever better crops.²⁶

As for the morale of the rebel army, there was no question that it was no match for the invincible British army. The rebels were also aware that they had a strong force to reckon with, so they solicited and obtained the assistance of the French. When Marston heard of this, he was evidently amused because nothing seemed more remote from reality: Nay, General Washington, who moves the puppets of this place, has the effontry to give out that a French fleet and Army will be over early in the spring. A fleet from France! There will be one from the moon as soon. Strange stupidity to expect assistance from that quarter, for can it be thought that any European power who has colonies in America would lend a helping hand to form an independent state here, so large as the British colonies would make it all united.²⁷

Sound reasoning, but he failed to take into account the intrigues of international politics. Ten years later, he turned to the same page of his diary and carefully squeezed in these words: "I find in this, I was much out of my guess." Indeed, he was wrong, but that kind of reasoning helped him more than he realized, during those bleak days of his first captivity. It helped to lift up his spirits and gave him some hope for the future.

After the sale of the Earl Percy, Marston became even more anxious to return to Nova Scotia and to the protection of British authority. There was however something else which kept luring him -- a lady, a certain Eliza C. from Windsor, whom he apparently met after he arrived in Halifax. Almost every day of the month of December 1776, he recorded in his diary, how desirous he was of seeing her again.

On December 18, without his requesting it, the committee decided that his movement around Plymouth was no longer restricted. Three months later, he was asked to go to Boston to await an exchange of prisoners. While there, he could not resist seeing his beloved Marblehead again, so he made a flying visit to that town. It was a painful visit, because he learnt that nearly all of his property had been confiscated. Nonetheless, he was lucky that he left unharmed, because under the Banishment Act, he was prohibited from ever setting foot on that town.

Finally, towards the end of March 1777, he was exchanged and allowed to return to Halifax. Much of the agony of the past six months was wiped out by the sight of his Eliza C.²⁸ But unfortunately, everything was not as delightful. For one thing, he was greatly appalled at the living conditions in Halifax. After much effort, he managed to get a "dingy" room in the house of a Mrs. Lloyd at one guinea per week.²⁹

By that time, Marston had begun to adjust to his new life. In fact, it seemed as if he was beginning to enjoy it. Only a few weeks after he arrived in Halifax, he wrote to Eliza: Eliza dearest maid farewell, From you I now must part, Leave you in Halifax to dwell And ply the seaman's art; And we a very different scene Around us shall survey, You beaus in red, in brown, in green I monsters of the sea.

Monstrous indeed were some of his voyages to the West Indies. On his second voyage, he set out for St. Kitts from St. John's, Newfoundland, with a cargo of fish, but he did not make it to his destination, because after a six hour chase, his vessel, the Polly was captured by a Yankee privateer, General Gates, and for the second time, he became a prisoner. On August 30, 1777, they arrived at Boston, and he was taken on board the guard ship. The next day, by some stroke of luck, he was taken to the house of an old friend, Samuel White, as a house prisoner, just as he was in the Watson house in Plymouth. Somehow, news of his captivity reached Marblehead, and some of his former townsmen decided that it was too risky to leave such a dangerous Tory at large. They wrote to the Boston Committee of Safety expressing their feelings. In response, the committee immediately ordered Marston back to the prison ship, where he spent ten days. He does not provide much detail about his second captivity. However, after his release he wrote: "I have learned that a man may enjoy himself in prison."³⁰ From this, we may conclude that he was not treated badly.

The experiences of the past months, if anything, only served to enhance his spirit of adventure. No sooner did he arrive in Halifax, before he started making plans to resume his activities in maritime commerce. In fact, it is very unlikely that he even bothered to seek any other kind of employment. The odds were in his favour; during that period there was a considerable flow of trade between Newfoundland and the West Indies, so he was easily employed as a super cargo by his former business partner, Dr. Prince, and a Halifax merchant, Mulberry Holmes, both of whom were very involved in the West Indian trade.

Between October 1778 and April 1782, Marston undertook about eight voyages, all of which were, to say the least, very hazardous. On one occasion he almost suffocated to death because of a fire on the deck of the ship.³¹ The sea was infested with prize-hungry Yankee privateers, who Marston noted, chased them during all their voyages. He and his crew ran out of luck on February 6, 1780, when they fell into the hands of the Ariel. Consequently, Marston became a prisoner for the third time in less than five years.³² It is quite clear from the entries in his diary that this third jail sentence was by far the most unpleasant. The prison, which this time was in Philadelphia, was very badly heated and its inmates were poorly fed. However, their problems were considerably alleviated by the generosity of the citizens of that area, particularly the Quakers, who took them "fresh meat, vegetables, fruits, milk, eggs and clothes."³³ Assistance also came for Marston from another source: an old friend, an Irishman, called Collins. As soon as Collins learned that his friend was in jail, he started to send him food. When he realized that the chances for a quick exchange of prisoners were slim, he decided to bail him. According to the new arrangement, he was granted parole and ordered to live in Collins' house in New York until an exchange was arranged.

The joy of getting out of the miserable jail, was slightly marred by the fact that when he arrived in New York, he was informed that their vessel and all its cargo had been auctioned. But fortunately for him, in spite of the difficulties he encountered in his voyages, he had been able to raise some money, with which he bought his own vessel, the Britannia. Another joyful aspect of his sojourn in New York was his brief reunion with some relatives and friends, among whom was one of his favourite cousins, Lieut. Col. Edward Winslow, then muster-master of the Loyalist troops.³⁴

The difficulty which confronted Marston during the last of his commercial voyages, greatly surpassed in seriousness any of the other problems he had encountered since his flight from Marblehead. The experiences were so grim, that it is a miracle that he survived at all. In view of this, it is appropriate to discuss that voyage in some depth.

In September 1781, Marston set out from Halifax in his newly acquired vessel, for Annapolis Royal. His spirits were dampened when he arrived at the neglected garrison town. The endurance of the inhabitants baffled him: the town lacked such facilities as candles and clean water, and the inhabitants were under constant threats of pillage and abuse from the raiding parties which plied their shores.³⁵ Nevertheless, for the sake of trade, Marston put up with the inconvenience. For about two months, he worked very hard, selling off the goods he brought with him, and packing his new cargo which was made up of grain, apples and cider. Finally, on December 1, he set out from Annapolis Royal for Halifax, pleased to be relieved of the miseries of living in that town. Moreover, he was departing with a huge cargo, which meant good business. But he did not know what was in store for him.

A winter gale was sweeping through the coast of Nova Scotia. The Britannia, weakened by its former days of whale chasing under its former owners, could not take the storm, and in no time, it started to leak. For several hours the crew labored fruitlessly to stop the leakage. Eventually, they decided that the vessel must be relieved of some of the weight, so overboard went the grain, apples and cider which Marston had so strenuously acquired. But even this sacrifice was to no avail; the storm consistently grew more severe, and some strong northeastern winds finally drove the vessel into ice near Cape Canso. As a result, Marston and his men found themselves trapped in an uninhabited region. They quickly recognized that the chances of being rescued were remote, so they abandoned the Britannia and attempted to cover the remaining 130 miles to Halifax on foot. By this time, Benjamin Marston was no longer the contented Harvard graduate and businessman he used to be; he was now an almost regular host to hardship and adventure. Nevertheless, the ordeal of the wreck was more than he could cope with.

Treking 130 miles in winter was a dreadful task which was not made any easier by an acute food shortage. Three days after they abandoned the Britannia, the men, particularly Marston, who was by far the oldest, began to feel very weak, having run out of food. Very reluctantly, they slaughtered Tiger, the "faithful" dog who was with them on that fateful voyage.³⁶ But the small amount of Tiger's flesh which he ate, was still not sufficient to revive Marston, so he decided that his men should continue the journey and leave him to die in the isolated Indian hut which they had just discovered. His men very unwillingly left him on December 28. Far too weak to move, he just lay quietly and watched as 1781 made its exit, hoping that he would follow. But even before the end of the year, he was rescued by a group of Indians, whom his men had met after they left him.³⁷

Until the middle of January, he lived with an Indian family who showed him much kindness. He proceeded from the Indian community to Country Harbour where he built himself a hut and tarried there until the end of February. From there he went to Chedabucto (now Guysboro) and stayed with an English family for a few weeks. Finally, towards the end of March, he boarded a crowded shallop which reached Halifax after a ten day journey.

After his third captivity, Benjamin Marston worked very hard to gather his shattering fortunes. But the wreck robbed him of all the fruits of his labour. He arrived in Halifax looking like "Robinson Crusoe," thin, ragged and almost penniless. In his hand, he held only one thing -- his journal, which itself is adequate testimony of the ordeal of the period, being stained, blotted and the ink pallid from freezing.

Possibly because of the vivid reminders of his last adventure at sea, Marston did not at once seek employment in maritime commerce. Instead, for the first time since arriving in Halifax from Boston, he made efforts to acquire a military position. In April, 1782, he sent two applications to New York requesting the position of muster-master of the provincial corps in Nova Scotia, because he was informed that the incumbent was planning to retire.³⁸ Unfortunately, his letters were not even answered. Nevertheless, in August of the same year, he performed some military services as a volunteer. Reports reached Halifax that year, that the fort at St. George's Island, in Halifax Harbour, was being threatened with an invasion. Therefore, for want of something to do, Marston joined other volunteers who accompanied the troops to defend the fort. However, it proved to be a false alarm. Marston was very happy for this, because as he explained, the whole expedition was a farce. For example, when the alarm went off, most of the men were not in their positions; the men were not supplied with sufficient provisions; and their weapons were too old. Therefore, Marston was convinced that if indeed there had been an attack, the fort would have fallen very easily.³⁹

Soon after his return from St. George's Island, Marston realized how precarious his very existence had become. For many days, he could not even buy food, because he only had one guinea which nobody would take because "there was a large slice of its edge cut off."⁴⁰ Most likely driven by desperation, he started to hunt for business offers again. For a while, the prospects looked good, but ended in two big disappointments. The first time, he was assured that he would be put in charge of a brig owned by his former employers, Prince and Holmes. However, these men were offered good money for the vessel, so even before Marston could start the job, they disposed of it. The second big disappointment came after Holmes had actually engaged him to go to Liverpool, England, to attend to some matters relating to a brig. Unfortunately, the people with whom he was supposed to have discussed the business, came to Halifax and that immediately ended the contract. All the same, Holmes was generous enough to give him some "odd job" for which he was very thankful, because it enabled him to get "a little pocket money."⁴¹ As 1782 slipped away, so did Marston's fortunes. Life was unbearably monotonous. He recorded: "My time lies very heavy on my hands -- having nothing to do. For employment -- I walk, when tired with that, write."⁴² It does not seem that he had any friends to keep him company, strangely enough, not even his Eliza. There is no indication of what might have happened to her, he just stopped mentioning her in his diary. His journal became his closest friend. Every single day of the last four months of that year, he recorded all kinds of details: all the ships which came and left; the progress of the war in the United States; how the prisoners were treated by both sides; the Halifax government and its shortcomings; prices of basic commodities; and even trivial occurrences like a quarrel between the wife of the governor and the wife of the naval commander.

No reader of his diary and correspondence can fail to see that throughout this period of woes, he remained optimistic. He once remarked: "I have one thing to always thank Heaven for, my hopes do not fail me."⁴³ Many people in that position might have died or fallen prey to some sort of mental ailment; but he survived. Probably what saw him through, was this philosophy which he maintained, he learnt to cling to: "Good Humour is a most effectual ingredient to human Happiness -- He who is prospered of it can not be quite wretched -- in the most untoward situation of human affairs -- in the most forlorn circumstances of life, a good humoured mind will find something to be pleased with -- something to be glad at -- it will ever take a pleasure in accommodating itself to its present circumstance."⁴⁴ Helpful as this philosophy might have been, it did not prevent him from looking back and yearning for the past. Many of his poems, particularly one which he wrote while he was stranded at Saint John, clearly reflect this.⁴⁵

In a most pitiful condition, he watched the new year, 1783, move towards the end of the first quarter. Writing to his sister Lucia, he said: "My life has changed so much, Heaven knows what is to become of me. For my own part, I can't guess how my present dark prospect will end, maybe my life will soon be like it was in M'hd."⁴⁶ Indeed he could not guess correctly, because if he had been able to, he would have known then, that his troubles had just begun.

Chapter II
CHIEF SURVEYOR OF SHELBURNE 1783-1784

The Chief Surveyor's job is a hard service and tho I make good wages, tis all earned -- the heat in the woods and the black flies are almost insupportable, and Shelburne is composed of such a mixed multitude that it will take me all the rest of my life to get myself well accommodated to their ways and habits of acting and thinking.

Benjamin Marston, 1783¹

As the revolutionary war came to a close, many of the displaced Loyalists became convinced that they would never be able to live among the triumphant rebels in their new republic. Instead, they preferred to settle elsewhere under King George. Accordingly, in 1781 some of them living in New York approached the governor of Nova Scotia, Sir Andrew Hammond, who suggested a pioneer settlement at Port Roseway on the northeast arm of the Bay of Fundy. About 120 heads of families got together and formed the Loyalist Association "for the purpose of moving and settling at Port Roseway." In 1782, with the firm support of Sir Guy Carleton, the associates sent two delegates, Joseph Pynchon and James Dole, to acquaint John Parr, the new governor of Nova Scotia, with their plans. Parr was even more enthusiastic than his predecessor. So cordial was the reception of the delegates by the governor and council, and so favourable were the statements regarding the natural resources of the region, that one of the delegates returned to New York filled with optimism and a determination to speed up the preparations for departure. His enthusiasm was so contagious that the membership of the association doubled within a short time. The associates had no misgivings whatsoever about their decision to leave: they were convinced that their arrival in Port Roseway would make significant changes in the history of Nova Scotia. To quote them: "Port Roseway would be transformed into an ornament in the province of Nova Scotia."²

The vanguard of the Loyalist influx arrived in Port Roseway harbour on May 4, 1783. In July, the governor visited the new settlement and much to the displeasure of the settlers, changed its name to Shelburne. They were displeased because the town was named after the British minister who had so unfairly dealt with the Loyalist question during the peace negotiations. Parr entertained great hopes for the settlement, convinced that one day it would be the most flourishing town in the whole province.3 The settlers themselves harboured similar hopes, and they tried very hard to make them a reality. Thus, within the remarkably short space of one year, the wilderness of Shelburne became a thriving city. Unfortunately, it declined just as rapidly.⁴ Benjamin Marston features prominently in this history of Shelburne because he occupied what is perhaps the most crucial position in any infant settlement, that of chief surveyor.

At the close of the war, Edward Winslow, formerly muster-master-general of the Loyalist forces in New York, came to Nova Scotia as the military secretary to Henry Fox, the commander in chief of the forces in that province. With such an honourable position, it is not surprising that unlike his cousin Marston, he did not encounter any major difficulty upon his arrival. In fact, by his own admission, the reception he got was far beyond his sanguine expectations. His influence with the governor was so tremendous that he happily claimed: "There's not a man from this quarter that presumes to solicit from head quarters without my recommendation."⁵

There is no indication of when Marston began to solicit his cousin's assistance in acquiring a job. But one thing is clear; he did not ask specifically for the job of surveyor, because when Winslow made an application on Marston's behalf, the latter did not even know.⁶ He was surprised when on April 21, 1783, he received a letter from the surveyor-general of Nova Scotia, Charles Morris, requesting him to leave Halifax for Port Roseway, at the head of a surveying team.⁷ He was given three assistants -- Messrs. Mason, Lyman and Tully. It is instructive to note that Marston never acquired a formal training in surveying, and at that time, had no experience. Such was the influence of Edward Winslow.

Winslow's patronage did not stop there. He also cajoled Parr into appointing Marston as one of five magistrates of the new settlement. Winslow claimed that his cousin was the chief magistrate, in his own words: "a kind of Governor-General."⁸ However, there is no evidence that the appointment was so prestigious. In any event, almost overnight, Marston who just a few months before was complaining of idleness, found his hands full.

It did not take him long to realize that the settlement he was employed to survey was a total wilderness. Nevertheless, he was impressed, noting that the site was not as bad as he had anticipated.⁹ The potential of the region seemed limitless. Within a day, he observed that the soil was very fertile, there was an abundance of cod fish and lumber, and the harbour was very good.¹⁰ The night after his arrival, he wrote to his sister and brother-in-law in the United States, telling them that he had found an ideal place to begin to gather the loose threads in his life. He would find time off his work and make good use of the resources of the region by engaging in commerce.¹¹ But, of course, by then he did not know what the work really involved, and he had not met the settlers. For these two factors, his work and the settlers were to be the two main sources of persistent misery throughout his fifteen month stay in Shelburne.

Before Marston left Halifax, the Surveyor-General gave him instructions pertaining to his duties and a copy of the plan of the town, which had just been approved by the governor. According to the instructions, Marston, after consulting with representatives of the settlers, should choose the exact site and proceed to lay out the town. It should consist of five long parallel streets, crossed by others at right angles, each square containing several lots, so that each associate might be given a town and water lot, and also a fifty acre farm lot. With the supervision of the chief engineer, Lieut. Lawson, Marston was also required to lay out crown lands that were to be reserved for public buildings such as barracks, wharves and hospitals.¹²

That Marston was a versatile person cannot be denied. For example, he did not have any formal training or experience in navigation when he captained some vessels during his adventurous voyages to the West Indies. But in spite of this versatility, the difficulties he encountered in his work first started with his lack of experience. He was not ashamed to admit to Winslow how confused he was: "I'm almost dinn'd to death for Town lots and Water lots, for 50 acre and 500 acre lots. My head is so full of Triangles, Squares, Parallelograms, Trapezias, and Rhombidses that the corners do sometimes almost put my eyes out."¹³ In a similar manner, he explained to Lucia Watson that he would not be able to correspond with her as frequently as he used to, because he was "engaged in an unfamiliar job which was causing him much difficulty."¹⁴

If he ever thought that working on land, as opposed to the turbulent sea, meant an end to danger, he soon found out he was mistaken. On one occasion, he fell to the ground almost unconscious because of the heat and the black flies in the woods; he and the men in his surveying team were once chased by a female bear; and on three occasions, heavy rain trapped him in the woods all night causing him to feel some "terrible pain in his chest due to over-exposure."¹⁵

The early arrivals numbered over 2,000 white civilians, 1,000 blacks and 800 disbanded soldiers; and Marston was supposed to lay out lots for each. It became customary for him to return to his tent at the end of the day and find bundles of applications for land grants, waiting for him. This made him realize that his new job involved an impossible task, that of pleasing everybody.¹⁶ The settlers were not only many, they were also impatient, and among them, were many speculators. Within two months, Marston observed that many of the early arrivals were trying to acquire large tracts of land with a view of investing when the other groups of settlers arrived.¹⁷

Consequently, the Chief Surveyor's job became so demanding that Marston had to work every day (Sundays included) from dawn to dusk. He complained many times in his diary that the job prevented him from attending to his own personal business. For example, he started building a house for himself some time in the middle of 1783, but was unable to complete it before he left Shelburne.

The attitude of the Nova Scotia government, or rather Governor Parr alone, only helped to make the job even more difficult. Marston was always short of vital instruments and deputy surveyors. Charles Morris, his immediate boss, was fully aware of this. He explained to Marston that the chief surveyors of the other Loyalist settlements at Annapolis, Digby and Guysborough were experiencing the same problems, but as surveyor-general, he could do nothing to alleviate the situation because the governor had warned him not to spend any more money on new instruments or appointing deputy surveyors.¹⁸ The reason the governor gave for this, was that the government was "spending too much money on the Loyalists who in turn behaved as if because of their loyalty the government owed them everything."¹⁹ The governor was so irritated by this Loyalist attitude that it got to the point where he became reluctant to sign the statements of account approving the surveyors' salaries. He decided the people must pay the surveyors themselves for laying out their lands. Again Morris was convinced that the governor was not treating the surveyors fairly. But it seems that he was afraid to question the governor's action. Instead he wrote to Marston: I am really at a loss to know how to conduct myself. I think it would be advisable for you all to address the Governor, and that some of the principal people should join you in remonstrating in the best possible manner, showing that it is impossible for your continuing to carry on this business unless some monies are forwarded to pay you; that the bulk of the people are utterly unable to pay for the laying out of their land.²⁰

James Macdonald, one of Parr's biographers, claims that the Loyalists have not given full justice to John Parr for his ceaseless exertions during their arrival. He further claims that the governor "was an eminently practical man, willing to avail himself of the advice and experience of others especially his advisors."²¹ But in the present study of Marston's career in Shelburne, we discover evidence which points to the contrary. One of the things which bothered Marston most was the governor's persistent interference and obstinacy. In July, 1783, the governor sent a circular letter to Surveyors in which he declared: Nothing is intended to you, and these unfortunate refugees lately arrived in this province, but the greatest honour founded upon principles of justice with wishes to alleviate as much as is in our power the distress brought upon those people by their loyalty. At the same time, their agents or surveyors shall not point out to the Governor what shall be done, or what should have been done before they left New York.²²

Theoretically, Marston and Lawson, the chief engineer, were given the mandate to select and lay out Crown lands in Shelburne. In practice, however, it was the governor who chose most of the sites. As some letters in the Surveyor-General's Letterbook clearly show, there were many instances when Parr's choice of Crown lands interfered with those already laid out for the settlers. In such cases, the governor left everything to Marston, instructing him to apologize to the people concerned and find "becoming" solutions. In this way, the governor contributed to Marston's list of enemies.²³

The governor's interference was so blatant, that there were times when he boycotted Morris and Marston, and dealt directly with the deputy surveyors. For example, in February 1784, he asked one of Marston's deputies, Lyman, to lay out some land. It is not clear what exactly happened: whether he refused to do the work, or did not do it properly. The governor became so enraged that he immediately recommended that Morris should look into Lyman's activities and determine if he should be fired. Evidently, Morris did not think that Lyman was to blame, because he wrote to Marston: "I can assure you I have no idea of discharging so good a man as you represent Mr. Lyman to be. How the governor became prejudiced I know not."²⁴

Work problems -- his lack of experience, the inhospitable woods, and the governor's interference -- were child's play when compared with the problems he encountered with the settlers. It is very obvious to any reader of Marston's journal that nothing irritated him more about Shelburne than the settlers -- to be specific the poor whites, who were also the majority.

Before the refugees left New York, they were organized into sixteen companies with captains. As soon as they arrived, Marston in accordance with the instructions he had been given, settled on a town site after consulting with the captain of each company. But the choice was condemned by others as rough and uneven. So, ignoring Marston and their captains the settlers appointed three men from each company and a different location was chosen. We can here apply the cliché , "first impression goes a great way," because during this first encounter, Marston discovered in the settlers, a bad quality which he was to always associate with them. That quality was "a cur'sd Republican Town meeting spirit"²⁵

It took him an equally short time to notice that the bulk of them were uneducated, being mostly barbers, carpenters, tailors, shoemakers and mechanics. He recognized only a handful of respectable Marblehead men among them, who because of the rigors of refugee life were not looking as good as they used to.²⁶ The second batch of settlers were by far worse. In his own words: "These people are the very worst we've had yet. They seem to be the riff-raff of the whole."²⁷ These were mostly disbanded soldiers, usually a troublesome segment of any society.

The composition of the Shelburne settlers was a big disappointment to Marston. It is very likely that when he was told that he would be laying out land for "Loyalists," he expected to see people of his calibreHarvard graduates, professional men and affluent citizenspeople he could freely associate with. Contrary to this, he found himself in the midst of "an insignificant set whom propriety of conduct, chastity and decency of manners seem to be no part."²⁸

Under the circumstances, he led an unhappy life, refusing to join in the social life of the settlement. He once admitted that as much as he resented the rigorous demands of his job, he hated going home at the end of each day to a "lonesome solitary tabernacle."²⁹ But even this could not compel him to join the settlers in their festivities. The first celebration they organized was in honour of the King's birthday, on June 4. Marston admitted that he deliberately absented himself from the birthday ball, and not only that, he prayed and was happy that his prayers were answered, because it rained heavily that day thus terminating the festivities earlier than was planned.³⁰ A few weeks after, to commemorate St. John's day, the settlers organized two boxing matches. Marston was appalled, noting that there was no better proof of their baseness. Needless to say, he did not attend.³¹ Small dinner parties organized for visiting government officials, were the only social activities he took part in. Unfortunately, these were very rare.

At the Centre of this contempt he felt for the Shelburnites, was one big fear: it seemed as if the evils of the United States were catching up with him in exile. The settlers reminded him too much of the rebels at home, and this made him feel insecure. Their "cursd republican town meeting spirit" was reflected in almost everything that they did. On three occasions he recorded with apprehension that the settlers held meetings, the purposes of which he did not know. He did not put anything beyond them. That was why when a fire broke out only three weeks after the arrival of the first batch, he was convinced that it was not an accident: "I suspect that it was kindled on purpose, tis not improbable that may be the case. For the ignorance, stupidity, mercilessness of the bulk of the collection here is sufficient to produce such disastrous Event."³²

So worried was he about the rebellious attitude of the settlers that he wrote to his superior, Morris, pleading with him to do something in the way of controlling them.³³ Evidently, Morris felt that he was unduly worried, because in response, he merely said: "I must remind you of the old saying -- fret not thyself because of Evil doers."³⁴ But he could not stop fretting as he recalled: "This cur'sd Republican Town meeting spirit has been the ruin of us already [the revolution]. This spirit must be crushed by every means whatever or we shall be for rebellion soon."³⁵

How justifiable were his descriptions of the settlers? Did he in his anxiety exaggerate their bad qualities? Some historians are convinced that Marston was too severe in his description of the character and ability of the settlers.³⁶ Their criticism is valid to a certain extent. For example, one of the qualities which Marston made constant references to, was the laziness of most of the settlers. This was not quite true, because the spectacular growth of the town itself underscored how hard-working the settlers were. Furthermore, Marston contradicted himself when he wrote in his journal: "Attended a ball in honour of the Queen in a house which stand where 6 months ago was an almost impenetrable swamp. So great has been the exertions of the settlers in this new town."³⁷

Besides this, however, all the other observations seem to have been correct. For one thing, some contemporaries expressed the same views. There is no question that the majority of the settlers were uneducated and their ability left much to be desired. This was exactly the view expressed by Parr when he wrote to Lord Sidney: "The most liberal of the Loyalists would not go to Shelburne so that I had to make magistrates of men whom God Almighty never intended for the office."³⁸ The irony about this statement is that "our dear" Marston was one of the magistrates.

Similar but more severe observations were made by an anonymous contemporary in an article entitled "Shelburnian Manners."³⁹ In a nutshell, the article proposes that the Shelburne settlers were lazy, immoral, rowdy, extravagant and lacked a good foresight for business -- all characteristics which helped to ruin the once prosperous town. The "Shelburnian Manners" although definitely harsher, gives some weight to Marston's account because they both use many of the same adjectives describe the settlers.

We must, however, be careful how we draw parallels between the two because while the "Shelburnian Manners" denounced all the settlers, Marston saw it fit to make some exceptions and a few times, even tried rationally to account for the settlers' misconduct. He admitted that in many ways some of them were victims of circumstances. Many historians like Plimsoll Edwards have drawn attention to the fact that in assessing the character of the settlers, one must take into consideration the impact which the revolutionary war had upon them.⁴⁰ The war, just like any other, created vandals and frustrated beings out or reasonable men. Marston clearly made this point when he noted: Tis a task trying to humanity; for while one is firstly exasperated at the insolence and impatience of one sort of people they can't help -- they must feel for the distress of the sensible part -- who have come from easy situations to encounter all the hardships of a new plantation. They are upon the whole, a collection of very unfit characters but I must say, some grumble, some are pleased.⁴¹

From the second batch of settlers though, he could make no exception. As has already been pointed out, most of them were disbanded soldiers and their attitude was very unbecoming. Even Raymond, who feels Marston was harsh in his descriptions, agrees that the arrival of this group was an element of weakness in the founding of Shelburne.⁴²

There is no question that Marston believed the settlers were not so unruly as to be uncontrollable. In fact from his journal, he seems to suggest that some of them became worse in their new abode. For this, he blames the Nova Scotia government. Only a month after the planting of the settlement, he sympathetically noted: "The people here are suffering for a want of a civil establishment which to the shame of the government is most scandalously neglected."⁴³ There is evidence of two occasions when he tried to bring this deficiency to the notice of the Nova Scotia government.⁴⁴ But it is very likely that he did not get any response from Halifax.

The provincial administration's inefficiency began even before the arrival of the settlers, when the settlement was being planned. In the first place the administration did not undertake an extensive study of the area before recommending it so highly to the sanguine refugees. Secondly, adequate preparations were not made for their arrival: contrary to Parr's promises to them, no surveying was done, so that when they landed, all the settlers could see was wilderness.

Consisting of refugees from diverse locations, Shelburne needed a firm authority. On the contrary, civic matters were in a chaotic state. By the governor's own admission, the magistrates he appointed were not suited for the job. It is thus not surprising that there were frequent dissentions among the settlers especially over land, for which there was a big scramble. Entries in Marston's diary clearly reflect his frustration in trying to maintain order in land allotment. Many of the late arrivals could not get land, and in their desperation, some tried to dispossess the early arrivals -- particularly the Negroes -- of theirs.

The Negroes were one group of settlers whom Marston did not detest. He was so sympathetic towards them that it began to look as if he was favouring them against the poor whites. Upon the arrival of the free blacks, he saw to it that their land was laid out in their own quarters, Birchtown, a satellite of Shelburne. It lay on the northwest arm of the Bay of Fundy, about three miles from the main settlement. His first encounter with the free Negroes was vastly different from his first experience with their white counterparts: when he showed them the site for their town -- chosen by the governor -- they did not argue with him. He recorded: "Went up North West with Col. Bluck to show him the ground allotted for his people. They are well satisfied with it, they are a good lot."⁴⁵ Col. Stephen Bluck was an educated mulatto of "good reputation" who was put in charge of the free blacks.

The Birchtowners were organized into twenty-one companies, each under the command of a black captain, for the purpose of constructing public buildings, such as jails, barracks and jetties. Even though they were thus employed, Marston still employed them to help him in surveying. He did not hide the fact that he preferred them to the poor whites because "they work very hard and labour cheaply."⁴⁶

Besides cheap labour, it seems that Marston was genuinely in sympathy with them. How can we explain his attitude to this group? Ellen Wilson makes a valid suggestion when she points out that his sympathy might have been triggered by an experience he had at Santa Cruz during one of his adventurous journeys to the West Indies.⁴⁷ He was the horrified spectator of a slave auction. It affected him so much that he recorded the gruesome proceedings in detail in his journal and sadly concluded: Great God! What must be the feelings of a sensible human being to be torn from all that is reckoned valuable and dear, and to be condemned to the most servile drudgery and infamous uses without the least hope of relief. But as it is only Miss Yawyaw and Miss Pawpee, and the young gentlemen Messrs. Quashee and Quomino whose skins are black, whose hair stout and curled, whose noses flat and lips thick, we think there can be no great harm in it.⁴⁸

Although it is difficult to reconcile the above with the fact that Marston himself was the owner of a few Negro slaves in Marblehead, it is quite reasonable to imagine that this experience in Santa Cruz changed his outlook regarding slavery, and influenced his relationship with the settlers of Birchtown.

In any event, this relationship was not viewed kindly by the poor whites especially the disbanded soldiers many of whom were both landless and jobless. The situation came to a head in the summer of 1784. Before that time, in September of the previous year, Marston recorded that the "people" had taken it upon themselves to appoint a Mr. Sperling to survey their land, and that this man was encroaching on the black men's ground, a dirty job for which he was paid two dollars per head.⁴⁹ Evidently, he was able to check this menace, because he noted later on, that he had been able to retrieve some of the land for the Negroes.⁵⁰ But harassment of the blacks continued. On May 18, 1784, Marston recorded that things were getting out of control and that some people were opposed to the drawing of certain town lots in spite of the governor's orders. He then predicted: "Since this curs'd levelling spirit cannot be crushed, we shall be for rebellion very soon."⁵¹ What an accurate prediction: on July 26, the disbanded soldiers, in a manner reminiscent of the rebel mob, attacked the free Negroes, pulled down about twenty of their houses and drove some of them out of the town. Thus began the first racial riot in the history of Nova Scotia.

For Marston, the reason was quite simple: "it was an attempt by the unruly disbanded soldiers to drive the Negroes out of town because they labour cheaper than they will."⁵² He was right, the poor whites saw the free Negroes as an obstacle to their advancement. But they also saw the chief-surveyor as being just as much an obstacle himself. Therefore on the second day, they began to look for Marston. Fortunately, some of his friends got wind of this and advised him to go to the barracks; but he soon realized that he was not even safe there, so he decided to leave immediately for Halifax.

The story of his life at the outbreak of the revolution was being replayed: he fled Shelburne in the same way that he left Marblehead that fateful November night. After a tedious two day journey, he arrived safely in Halifax on the 29th. Later, he learnt from some loyal Shelburnites who visited Halifax, that he had been pursued as far as Point Carleton, and that if he had been found, the rioters had agreed that he was to be hung.⁵³

Meanwhile, the governor decided to go to Shelburne in order to placate the Shelburnites. By the time he got there, August 23, the riots had already subsided. The inhabitants turned out to receive him with a "feu de joy," at a colourful welcome ceremony.⁵⁴ The first task he executed upon his arrival was the formation of a special board to look into the riots and organize future land allocations. After one week of mostly wining and dining, he returned to Halifax.⁵⁵ Even before this visit to Shelburne, Parr had made up his mind as to what really caused the riots -- it was the inefficiency and dishonesty of the chief surveyor.⁵⁶ When Marston heard of this verdict, he was stunned. In his typical sarcastic manner he recorded: "To answer some purpose with his dear Shelburnites, he has been pleased to throw a great deal of blame on my conduct. But I have the satisfaction to know that the best people of that settlement are my friends -- and what a Rabble thinks of me is never my concern tho a Governor may be among them." Nevertheless, a week later, he sent a memorial to the governor requesting a public inquiry into his work and conduct. It galled him that the governor, without mentioning names or presenting any evidence, was asserting that "everybody" accused him of the most corrupt and partial conduct.⁵⁷

His application was treated with the utmost contempt. He was asked to see the governor in his office on September 18, at 12:00 noon in order to discuss his application. He arrived at the governor's office at the appointed time, only to be told that he had gone out. When Parr returned, several hours after, he refused to see him. Instead, he directed the secretary of the province to inform him that his application had been referred to the newly formed board at Shelburne. Marston saw this as a wicked denial of his desire to bring the matter to the people. He wanted to hear his accusers face to face.⁵⁸ It is doubtful whether this matter was ever brought to the notice of the board; because in the proceedings of the said board contained in the Port Roseway Records and the White Collection, there is no allusion whatsoever to any investigation into Marston's conduct. Thus, when a few weeks later, he was officially dismissed, that decision must have been taken single-handedly by John Parr.

Was the governor's action justified? Contrary to his claim, there is sufficient evidence that Marston was very efficient. As has already been pointed out, he spent most of his time surveying, scarcely having time for himself. It is, however, very likely that his inexperience at times rendered him inefficient. For example, as soon as Lieut. W. Booth arrived in Shelburne in 1789 he immediately noticed that the town was laid out by "an inefficient surveyor or an inexperienced one."⁵⁹

If anyone should know about Marston's work, it should be the surveyor-general. Thus it is very significant to note that Charles Morris never accused him of inefficiency. Instead he often commended him for his prompt surveying reports in spite of the persistent problems of inadequate instruments and insufficient deputy surveyors.

⁶⁰ True, there was a delay in land distribution and this was one of the main grievances expressed in the riots. But it was hardly Marston's fault. Lured by the attractive reports about Shelburne, the number of people who eventually settled that town was far more than was anticipated.⁶¹ To make matters worse, Marston's desperate pleas for assistants were unheeded. Most of the people in Shelburne attributed the delays largely to the shortage in deputy surveyors.⁶²

It would be a fallacy to concur with Parr that Marston was very partial in his distribution of land. For one thing, to a large extent he was a maverick; secondly, it is evident that he did not have any friends in Shelburne to whom he could render special favours. Two episodes which he related in his diary help to buttress this point. The first is best told in his own words: "A Capt. McLean has this evening sent me a green Turtle about 7 ft. [sic]. He is to have a house lot, but this will not blind my eyes, he must have the same chance as his neighbours who have no Turtle to send."⁶³ The second episode: A Capt. Christian was sent to Shelburne by the governor to discuss the laying out of lands for the blacks and some "decent" Loyalists the governor was expecting. As soon as Christian arrived, he invited Marston to join him on board the Cyclops, so that they could discuss after dinner. Marston, who was tired that evening, turned down the invitation, suggesting a breakfast meeting the next day. Of his response he recorded: "I just sent a verbal answer that I would see him at breakfast because I was too tired, too dirty, too hungry to sit down and write an answer to his billets. He may think me an odd fellow -- He is welcome to his opinion."⁶⁴

Favouritism and selfishness, ironically, were more associated with the governor. The settlers started accusing him of these as early as his first visit when he directed that 500 acres of land be reserved for him and his family.⁶⁵ The surveyor-general's letterbook confirms that there were many occasions when the governor requested special privileges for certain people. An outstanding example was when he directed Morris to inform Marston that as a consolation gesture from him, Marston should lay out 500 acres of land for the recently widowed Mrs. McNutt and her children; and that Marston must do this in such a way as not to draw the attention of other settlers who have equal rights.⁶⁶ Three years after he left Shelburne, Marston recalled that the governor had given two gentlemen a licence of occupation for some land, which afterwards he "shamefully and wickedly gave away to Justice Finucane who in turn was wicked and shameless enough to receive it."⁶⁷ However, we must be careful how we accept Marston's accusation, because by that time, he and the governor were practically enemies. But one thing is certain, Parr who blatantly denounced Marston as a "partial shark" was not himself exactly innocent.

Of Marston's honesty, there is no question. There is absolutely no evidence that he ever sold land to the people or that he reserved more for himself than he was entitled to. He left Shelburne the way he had come -- a poor man. We cannot rule out the fact that he might have shown more favour to some people than others; but it is certainly not half as bad as Parr portrayed it. We can say with much certainty, that Parr's explanation for the riots was myopic and inaccurate; Marston cannot be held solely responsible.

Unfortunately, save for Marston's diary, there are no detailed accounts of the disturbances. From the little there is, it is certain that the riots started as a racial quarrel. But they were in reality, the culmination of several grievances, most having emerged with the inception of the settlement.⁶⁸ Restlessness among the settlers started as soon as they realized that Shelburne did not conform to the attractive reports they were given prior to their arrival. Agriculture was a failure; the forests and swamps were impenetrable; the harbour, one of the prime attractions, was as beautiful as was indicated in the reports, but it became frozen in winter and remained in this condition for almost half of the year -- thus terminating whatever advantages might emanate from it. Conquering these limitations needed zeal and financial resources, both of which the settlers desperately lacked, having just come out of a war in which they were losers.

The Nova Scotia government, partly because of its own shortcomings and the unanticipated numbers of settlers, could not do anything to curb restlessness and lawlessness. The special board appointed after the riots discovered that next to the shortage of surveyors, the activities of speculators were responsible for the delays and other problems in land allocation.⁶⁹ The very same Marston whom Parr blamed for the disturbances, was among the first to point out this menace to the government.

One of the greatest problems emerged when the British government decided that as from May 1, 1784, supplies were to be withdrawn. As the Halifax Weekly Chronicle of April 6, 1784, reported, the settlers did not take this lightly; they were thrown into confusion because they knew that the King's bounty formed one of the backbones of the settlement.⁷⁰ With the assistance of General John Campbell, the commander in chief of the forces on the eastern coast, the British government agreed not to withdraw supplies abruptly, but to phase them out systematically. Although an extension was allowed, the fact that supplies were drastically reduced affected the town and its settlers considerably.

Thus, by the middle of 1784, the problems the settlers were trying to grapple with were many. The delay in land allocation, a major problem itself, only served as a fertile ground for expressing the evils of the society; and Marston, caught in the centre, was made a scapegoat.⁷¹

After critically examining the records, one begins to suspect that there was some personal antagonism involved in Marston's dismissal. John Parr was a man who expected certain courtesies from his subordinates. For example, after only his first meeting with Parr, Joseph Pyncheon, one of the representatives of the New York Loyalist association, observed: "The governor who expects to be respected all the time, is tenacious of his own prerogatives and will not be dictated to by anyone, though he appears willing to accommodate everyone in his own way."⁷² Edward Winslow must have noticed this trait, because he deemed it necessary to caution Marston: Now my dear friend, I know you hate all mere matters of ceremony -- so do I -- but 'tis my maxim that when I can serve my country or my friends to make little sacrifices of my own feelings. When the governor arrives, wait on him -- offer your services -- tell him everything which tis necessary for him to know.⁷³

But Marston did not give much heed to his cousin's advice. He was always pointing out flaws to Morris and the governor. It was no secret that he challenged the views of the governor, as is evident in the words of Amos Botsford, agent and chief surveyor of Annapolis: "The governor makes difficult demands he expects us to fulfil. I hear that the Marblehead man in Shelburne does not listen to all he says."⁷⁴

In view of this, it is quite reasonable to imagine that the riots of July 1784 came as a God-sent opportunity for the governor to be relieved of so disrespectful an employee as Marston. On the other hand, it is possible as Raymond suggests, that Parr, being a man of hasty temper and apt to jump to conclusions without sufficient knowledge of the facts of the case, dismissed Marston out of expediency rather than justice or injustice.⁷⁵ Apparently, Marston himself spent a great deal of time pondering over his involvement in the Shelburne crisis. He wrote to the Watsons: "I can't understand why my work in Shelburne came to such a disastrous end."⁷⁶ Had he been more flexible in his dealings with the Shelburne populace, he might have saved himself much trouble. But he failed to do precisely what Winslow advised him -- to sacrifice his feelings. He would have saved himself the drudgery of the lonely evenings if he had, if even once in a while, joined the settlers in their social activities. After all, respectable officials from Halifax, including the governor, did not hesitate to mingle with the people in their celebrations. For example, Parr wrote to Lord Shelburne about his first visit to the settlement, how he joined the settlers in a ball which lasted until 5:00 a.m. Finally, perhaps if he had criticized the governor less frequently, the misunderstandings between the two of them might never have occurred.

Whatever the reasons for his exit in disgrace from Shelburne, one thing was certain: yet another experiment in rebuilding his life had failed.

Chapter III
REFUGE IN NEW BRUNSWICK 1785-1787

This province is to be divided and a new one erected on the western side of the bay of Fundy by the name of New Brunswick. If I can get some Employment in the new Government, I shall seek refuge and choose my residence there, as most of the New England refugees will be there & among them, my nearest and dearest friends.

Benjamin Marston, 1784¹

"A separate, exclusively Loyalist province governed by Loyalist leaders themselves." This was the only version of an earthly paradise as conceived by the prominent Loyalists who settled the St. John River valley.² They came with a determination to attain this earthly paradise.³ Finding sound reasons to do this was easy. For one thing, geography was in their favour: the area north of the Bay of Fundy was detached from the metropolis, Halifax, and in large measure self sufficient, because of the many rivers and harbours that it contained. However, it was the relationship between the Nova Scotia government and the Loyalist leaders, rather than geographical factors, which actually got the movement for partition off the ground.

The relationship between the Halifax government and the Loyalists north of the bay was hostile from the very beginning. The fear each group had of the other was the basis for this hostility. Parr and his officials were quick to sense that the Loyalist leaders of the St. John were powerful politically because of their strong connections in London and the British army.⁴ The Loyalist leaders on the other hand, anxious to enhance their personal political ambitions, realized that the Halifax clique would pose a serious obstacle. The governor exacerbated this hostility by deliberately pursuing a negative policy with respect to Loyalist affairs in that region.⁵ The governor's policy was no doubt geared to minimizing the influence of this unique group of Loyalists, but it resulted in a chaotic situation, much to his discredit. This more than any other factor, provided justification for the division of the province. As a result of the deft manoeuvering of men like Edward Winslow, Ward Chipman and Henry Fox, the Loyalist leaders were able to convince the British government that the circumstances underscored the fact that the province had become too big for Parr and his officials to handle successfully.⁶ In the summer of 1784, their dreams of an earthly paradise became a reality with the establishment of the province of New Brunswick.

While the struggle for partition ensued, Benjamin Marston was in Halifax, unemployed, and with ample time to review his activities in Nova Scotia since the evacuation of Boston. He arrived at the conclusion that he was wrong to have imagined that he could ever succeed in rebuilding his life by working and living in Halifax and Shelburne. A man could only succeed if he lived among people of his calibre, people he could identify with.⁷ The Shelburne crisis, apart from costing him his job, also deepened his sense of isolation. After the quarrel with Parr, he knew he had no chance of gaining government employment. Although his Watson cousins tried to talk him into returning to the United States, he was convinced that he was not yet ready to live among an "unruly and deluded set of people."⁸

Therefore, it was with great joy that he received news of the progress of the plans for the creation of a new province. The composition of the Loyalist leaders of that region was what attracted him the most: they were educated, respectable men, most of whom he had known in the late colonies and who were planning to establish the most "Gentlemanlike province on earth."⁹

Marston once again turned to his cousin and patron, Edward Winslow. Apparently, he had developed a liking for his new vocation, because he specifically asked Winslow to help him procure a job as surveyor in the new province. Fortunately, the Shelburne tragedy did not mar the relationship between the two cousins. In fact, Winslow was very sympathetic to Marston, convinced that he was unfairly treated. His view of the Shelburne episode was influenced by two factors: firstly, Gideon White, whose sense of judgement Winslow greatly respected, had written to him explaining how unfairly Marston had been treated;¹⁰ secondly, by that time, Winslow had little respect for Parr's administrative ability. He once referred to him as via man accustomed to dissipation, and as competent to the performance of the task assigned as a Spider would be to regulate the grand Manufactories at Manchester."¹¹ Convinced that his cousin was indeed an efficient surveyor, Winslow decided to ask the newly appointed surveyor-general, George Sproule, to consider Marston for a post as one of his deputies in the new province. Mean while, Winslow advised Marston to send another application to Sir John Wentworth, surveyor-general of the King's woods in North America. Winslow did not envisage any difficulty because both men -- Marston and Wentworth -- had known each other very well in Massachusetts.¹² Winslow was right; Marston was easily employed by Wentworth who felt that it was the "least he could do for such a good friend in need."¹³

Determined that he was not going to start the new year in Nova Scotia, Marston quickly set out for New Brunswick on December 7. He was overjoyed to be leaving: "bade my last farewell to N.S. -- I never knew that saying farewell can be so pleasant, but it is, when you are leaving troubled waters for a place of refuge."¹⁴ The journey was not easy: he had to travel on foot, horseback and canoe. Eventually, he arrived at the mouth of the Saint John on December 9.

The dawn of 1785 brought with it a new life for Benjamin Marston. After almost a decade, he once again had the opportunity to enjoy the pleasures of good society; at last he was willing to live a full social life. He took up residence with one of the most prominent citizens of the province, Ward Chipman, the solicitor general. The joys of his new life are clearly reflected in his journal where he carefully and happily recorded his social activities. On January 2, he dined with some dignitaries -- the governor, Thomas Carleton, Judge Putnam, and the Secretary of the province, Jonathan Odell.¹⁵ On the 18th, he attended a ball given by the governor in honour of the Queen's birthday. He recorded: "There were between 30 and 40 ladies, near 100 gentlemen. Although the gentlemen were of all sorts, the ladies were of the best families only."¹⁶ Only a month after, he was guest at another ball and supper given by Chipman in his house. Of this event Marston noted: "The company was magnificent -- the Governor and his Lady, the Chief Justice, several of the councillors and some more of the respectable chosen ones with their Ladies. Because of this good company we broke up about 4 in the morning."¹⁷ These accounts of his social life upon his arrival in New Brunswick are very significant, because they demonstrate the kind of person that Marston was, or more specifically, his disdain of the lower class. We must recall that when the settlers in Shelburne held their parties until the early hours of the morning, for Marston, it was a sign of indolence and baseness. But when he and his "type" did the same, he saw it as "good company."

The nature of his new job was also different from that which he performed in Shelburne. This time he was not responsible for assigning settlers to their land, but to seek the interest of the King. As far back as the reign of Queen Anne, parliament stipulated that all pine trees twenty-four inches or more in diameter were to be reserved for the Crown, for the use of the royal navy. In 1783, Sir John Wentworth, surveyor of the King's woods, now with his headquarters in Halifax, was instructed to reserve all the pine trees of the approved dimensions in the King's remaining provinces, whether they stood on public or private lands. Thus, as his deputy, Ma