1st Lt. Humphrey joined us a few minutes later and advised, “Major Bigelow just told me ‘about’ fifty-seven Militiamen from their battalion were issued passes to visit with their families in this neighborhood. I asked if he had a roster of their names and he said he would ‘try’ to make one.”

Captain Febiger rolled his eyes and said, “That could be a problem. Did he tell them when to be back here?”

“Yes, sir. He told them to be back before we departed.”

Barely covering his frustration, Capt. Morgan said, “Let’s go into town and order some more fresh food. Lieutenant Colonel Greene just informed me Colonel Arnold wants us to purchase enough fresh meat, fish, and vegetables—and eggs—to feed the entire Expeditionary Force on Friday afternoon, September 15th. Let’s go see Mr. Tracy. Hopefully he knows enough Patriot farmers around here who can feed more than a thousand soldiers.”

“Did Colonel Arnold tell Lieutenant Colonel Greene how we are to pay for this?” asked Capt. Febiger.

“Same question I asked,” replied Captain Morgan. “The answer was ‘no.’”

By the end of the day, we had commitments from about a dozen farmers to feed about half our troops. And every farmer had the same question.

What was worse, the fresh food we ordered yesterday for the Advance Force was being prepared as this conversation ensued. Everyone in the encampment downwind of us had to be salivating at the scent. Captain Morgan ordered the cooks to feed the privates first, then the corporals, sergeants, and the dragoons. The officers were ordered to eat last.

Our little group billeted in town arrived back at Wolfe’s ­Tavern at 9:00 p.m.—just as the moon rose over the harbor. It was a bit smaller than the night before—and the air was slightly cooler.

Newburyport, Massachusetts

Thursday, September 14th, 1775

I arrived at our encampment at 7:30 a.m. with two dragoons and an extra horse. As I dismounted, Captain Morgan said, “You are early this morning, Ensign Newman. Does that feather bed you are sleeping in have lumps in the mattress? Is it keeping you awake?”

1st Lt. Humphrey was already chuckling but I wasn’t sure the Captain was joking.

“No, sir. Captain Febiger sent me out here to inform you he, Sergeant Cady, Mr. Nathanael Tracy, and several members of his Sons of Liberty Committee are presently out asking every Patriot family in this region to donate whatever they can to feed the whole Expedition tomorrow afternoon. They sent me here to see if you want to accompany them.”

Captain Morgan turned to 1st Lt. Humphrey and said, “Major Meigs and our 2nd Infantry Battalion should be here with the artillery detachment today—probably earlier than the 1st Battalion arrived yesterday. His Vermont and Connecticut boys seem to be in better shape. I’ll be back this afternoon.”

It took us a half hour to link up with the Febiger-Tracy-Cady party and there began a great experience in American generosity. By the time we stopped at the third little farm, I was captivated.