those whose praises might be sounded without derogating one whit from the just fame of the distinguished, or detracting from the gratitude their services awakened. Embarked in one service, as in our Revolutionary struggle, to which these remarks apply, each lent aid to the other, and should by right share the honors.
The present paper contemplates one in humble life, who did his part in those days, and did it well, inspired by no motive but a love of country, and was conspicuous among his fellows, though not, perhaps, exceptionally meritorious amid so patriotic a community as that in which he lived.
Joseph Shillaber, a blacksmith of the patriotic old town of Portsmouth, was an active member of the Liberty party, and was, no doubt, without authentic data to prove it, active in those scenes that filled Tories with terror and were a constant dread of weak non-committalists. Family tradition fixes his character as a patriotic partisan, ardent and ready, and his name affixed to documents of the day, in protest or in pledge of support for patriotic measures, determines the quality of his mind. His blacksmith-shop was on the site now occupied by the Portsmouth academy, and was the resort of the Sons of Liberty, who gathered about his anvil, where sparks were emitted that doubtless rivalled those of the forge, but which were not as evanescent. When John Paul Jones was in Portsmouth superintending the building of the ship Ranger, which he was to command, he frequented the shop of the patriotic blacksmith, for whom he manifested a warm friendship, using strong arguments to induce him to go in the Ranger as armorer. Having his name enrolled at Concord, and awaiting a summons, he declined the marine service, and Jones sailed without him. It was a matter of early family pride to recall the picture of the dark-browed chief, in the cocked hat and military cloak, seated upon the anvil, conversing with the man of the hammer.
But, in spite of his resolution not to go to sea, a circumstance happened which, as is often seen in human life, served to try his determination. The "Dalton," privateer, of Newburyport, Mass., touched at Portsmouth to fill her complement of men and add to her stores, besides, probably, requiring something to be done to her iron works, which the subject of this paper was called on to perform; and then succeeded a dark day for the blacksmith. By what inducement it is not known, but he became enrolled among the crew of the "Dalton." He was a poor man, and that was a time when the hope and prospect of prize-money had a potent influence in filling up the privateers, to which he must have listened, and yielded. It was a disastrous step, however, for, in twenty-five days from the time of leaving port, the "Dalton" was taken by a British frigate, and her crew taken to Hull, Eng., where they were held as prisoners for three years and eight months, suffering great privation and indignity, during which time communication with home was entirely cut off.
The facts regarding this imprisonment are obtained from a diary kept by one of the crew of the "Dalton," published some years since in New-
