Monday, May 8th, 1775: Capt. Morgan and I were inspecting the reconstruction of the powder magazine at Cedar Creek, when Rev. Thruston rode up to inform us that one of the first measures passed after Congress re-convened was a plan to improve the Trusted Courier Service throughout the thirteen provincial capitals. In keeping with the idea Mr. Benjamin Franklin had before the British dismissed him as Colonial Postmaster General, the Congress agreed each colony would establish and maintain a “station” every twenty-five miles on the 1,600 miles of “post roads” Mr. Franklin surveyed back in 1763. Each station is to have “a stable, not fewer than eight swift mounts, forage, water, a farrier, a place of rest, and victuals for couriers.” The goal, as the ­Reverend explained it, is to be able to deliver mail 200 miles each day. Then, he added with a smile, “They also intend to make Mr. Franklin ‘Continental Postmaster General’ as soon as they can find the funds to pay him.”2

Friday, May 19th, 1775: The drought is hard upon us. Not a drop of water has fallen from the sky in weeks. This afternoon, Mr. Isaac Zane, owner of Marlboro Plantation and the Marlboro Iron Works stopped at our home. Though he was raised and educated as a Quaker, he is also a member of our Frederick County Secret Committee of Safety. He came to thank Pieter for his advice on planting forage instead of tobacco.

Saturday, May 20th, 1775: Shortly after dawn this morning, Captain Morgan’s Negro slave, Josiah, appeared at our door bearing a note from the Captain summoning me to a meeting at his farm at noon with Rev. Charles M. Thruston, Isaac Zane, Maj. Angus McDonald, Samuel Beall, Alexander White, and George Rootes.

My curiosity was piqued by the instruction, clearly in a different hand (I later learned was Mrs. Morgan’s), “If possible, please bring your father’s copy of Spilsbury’s 1763, ‘New Map of North America.’”

Perhaps because he is a surveyor and an architect driven by curiosity, my father has a large collection of maps all carefully labeled and catalogued by date, rolled, and stored on shelves here in his office. I quickly found the requested map sheet, noted its very fine scale, and took it, along with a magnifying glass, to the meeting.

Rev. Thruston and I arrived at Captain Morgan’s home just north of Battletown together, followed by Major McDonald and Messer’s Zane, Beall, White, and Rootes. These latter three I met at various times—or was at least introduced to by my father. But I was stunned when Rev. Thruston explained, “These gentlemen are the members of our Frederick County Secret Committee of Safety of which I am the Chairman. You may not speak of them as such without my permission or that of Captain Morgan.”