This Diary Belongs to Samuel Lehi Smith

Age: 13 years

1776

October 8, 1776

We just found out about the battle in Lexington and Concord, Massachusetts. Old Isaac came through with a scrap of paper that described the battle and showed figures shooting and others lying on the ground, wounded. None of us can figure out why a group of farmers would try to fight against the British army. The Clarks and Overtons were there with us and we all are scared of what this will mean for us way out here on the frontier. We’ve always followed England’s laws and kept pretty much to ourselves. No one knows what will happen now, although, not much has changed here—the woods are still the woods, we still go about our work and our cozy cabin is still home. We are all hoping it stays that way.

October 12, 1776

I am finally writing this down, although I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. When I was way out in the woods hunting, I saw smoke rising from where our cabin stood. I was eight miles out, and by the time I made it to our cabin, there was nothing left—no people (except for the dead) and no home. How could I have left everything as it should be and returned to find nothing there? My parents weren’t among the dead and I can only assume that they have been captured. My hands are near worn to the bone from all the digging and burying of the neighbors and I’m just glad I didn’t have to bury Ma and Pa. I don’t know where there are, but I have to go searching for them—I’m so tired, but all I can think about is finding them.

October 14, 1776

I have been tracking my mother and father. I found their moccasin prints in the ground along with more moccasin prints as well as hard shoes with heels. There must be Indians and white men who took my parents and I tracked them into another settlement that was destroyed. I found more dead and there was a man who had been scalped. While I fear for my parents’ safety, I take comfort in the fact that there are still tracks to follow. As long as I can see their tracks, I have hope of finding them. My mind can’t figure how to rescue them, so for now I am just following the path they left for me—I’ll figure out the rest when I find them.

October 22,1776

I am finally writing in my diary again. I was hit on the head by a tomahawk (so I’ve been told) and I was out for six days. The last I remember, I came upon captives huddled around a wagon with British soldiers and Indians. I was too far away to see if my parents were there and before I could see, the group was under attack—someone was shooting at them. I tried to help and ended up shooting an Indian that was coming straight for me. Then there was a terrible pain in my head and everything went black. John Cooper is the man who has been taking care of me. He was with the group attacking the soldiers and he pretty much saved my life. I would write more, but my head still hurts something awful.

October 24, 1776

I found out John Cooper and his group are headed to join up to fight the British with a group called Morgan’s Rifles. Coop (as he’s known by everyone) was traveling pretty slow with the oxen and supplies. I didn’t figure that I would find my parents at that pace, so I decided to take off on my own again. He warned me to stay in the brush, away from the main path in case I came upon any more soldiers. It is a very unnerving feeling walking through the forest thinking that at any moment I could be caught unaware by the British. I don’t know how much time my parents and the British soldiers gained on me when I was out, but maybe if I keep up my pace I can find them again.

October 27, 1776

Just when I think I’ve seen all the horrors I can handle, another one comes my way. I came upon a farmhouse and after eating a wonderful meal with the family, headed out on my way again. They were a very nice family and being there made me miss my ma and pa all the more. I found out my parents and their captors had come through a few days before and that they were headed to New York to a British prison. After I left, I headed back into the forest, now headed for New York. I heard troops passing by and watched as they burned the house I had just left and killed everyone except for the little girl, Annie, who took off running. I found her and am determined to take her with me to find my parents. Will these horrors never end? How many innocent people will die for this war?

November 1, 1776

We came upon a sign that said New York—38 miles, so at least we are getting closer, although it is still a lot of walking and I hope Annie can keep up my pace. She insists on staying with me and I am glad to have her with me. As we were traveling today, we met yet another stranger who helped us avoid trouble. His name is Abner McDougal and he is from Scotland. He’s a tinker and is traveling the countryside in his freight wagon. He claimed we were his grandchildren traveling with him when British troops came by us, so luckily they rode on by. When I told him of our plan to find Ma and Pa, he offered to help us. Just when I think I can’t go anymore, someone else comes along to pull me back up again.

November 3, 1776

We’ve been traveling the past few days and we have seen more refugees than I can count. Most of them are ordinary civilians, caught up in this horrible war who are trying to get away from the very city we are trying to reach. We stopped at a house belonging to a man named Micah, who supplies Abner with passes that he needs to travel through the area without being harassed by British soldiers. Micah told us that the British have taken over New York and moved into the houses there. He also said that they have thousands of prisoners, which is discouraging to me. How will I find my parents among thousands of prisoners? I also found out that Abner and Micah have pigeons that carry messages to pass information along about the war. We are getting closer and I hope I find Ma and Pa soon.