Hugh Wynne, Free Quaker: Sometime Brevet Lieutenant-Colonel on the Staff of his Excellency General WashingtonMitchell, S. Weir (Silas Weir)
History
Hugh Wynne, Free Quaker: Sometime Brevet Lieutenant-Colonel on the Staff of his Excellency General Washington
Mitchell, S. Weir (Silas Weir)
Quakers -- Fiction; United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Fiction
With these long intended comments, I leave this book to the many readers
whose wants a new edition is meant to supply. I may say in conclusion
that I should have been less eager to alter, correct, and explain if it
were not that in schools and colleges Hugh Wynne has been and is
still used in a variety of ways so that the example of accuracy and a
definition of its desirable extent in historic fiction becomes in some
sense a literary duty.
S. WEIR MITCHELL.
August, 1908.
INTRODUCTORY
It is now many years since I began these memoirs. I wrote fully a third
of them, and then put them aside, having found increasing difficulties
as I went on with my task. These arose out of the constant need to use
the first person in a narrative of adventure and incidents which chiefly
concern the writer, even though it involve also the fortunes of many in
all ranks of life. Having no gift in the way of composition, I knew not
how to supply or set forth what was outside of my own knowledge, nor how
to pretend to that marvellous insight, as to motives and thoughts, which
they affect who write books of fiction. This has always seemed to me
absurd, and so artificial that, with my fashion of mind, I have never
been able to enjoy such works nor agreeably to accept their claim to
such privilege of insight. In a memoir meant for my descendants, it was
fitting and desirable that I should at times speak of my own appearance,
and, if possible, of how I seemed as child or man to others. This, I
found, I did not incline to do, even when I myself knew what had been
thought of me by friend or foe. And so, as I said, I set the task aside,
with no desire to take it up again.
Some years later my friend, John Warder, died, leaving to my son, his
namesake, an ample estate, and to me all his books, papers, plate, and
wines. Locked in a desk, I found a diary, begun when a lad, and kept,
with more or less care, during several years of the great war. It
contained also recollections of our youthful days, and was very full
here and there of thoughts, comments, and descriptions concerning events
of the time, and of people whom we both had known. It told of me much
that I could not otherwise have willingly set down, even if the matter
had appeared to me as it did to him, which was not always the case; also
my friend chanced to have been present at scenes which deeply concerned
me, but which, without his careful setting forth, would never have come
to my knowledge.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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