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The called me M.J., that stood for Michael Jones. It was the early part of April in 1760 when I departed an English port and headed across the waters for the North American colonies where I planned to settle, start a family, and begin what I hoped to be a very prosperous life. It was the summer if 1760 when I planted my feet and my heart in Boston along with several black slaves that I purchased when I arrived here. I brought a hefty 10,000 British pounds in my purse, which was my entire life savings. I was twenty-two years old, turning twenty-three in the fall. I had heard so many wonderful things about this place and I could not wait to get here. When I first arrived here, because of my better fortune it was very easy for me to become a landowner and the owner of a small but successful farm. I purchased a decent size piece of land and began to build a constructive family and life.

It was not long before things began to take a turn for the worse. Parliament began to throw tedious Acts and Policies at the American colonies. For example, the Tea Act which placed taxes on all British tea and the Stamp Act which placed taxes on all legal documents such as marriage licenses, wills, and even letter. The Sugar Act placed taxes in all sugar, wine, linen, and silk. It was beginning to be ridiculous. It was then that a continuous patter began. Act...Protest...Repeal...Peace. Everyone seemed to be putting up with that but with each strike by Parliament the other people in the colonies became more and more angry and liked the idea of gaining independence form Great Britain very much. In my opinion the idea of independence was not necessarily a bad one but I felt that it was necessary to remain loyal to the British crown. I personally chose to adhere to the British cause during the revolution. Those of us who remained loyal to England wore the title of “Loyalists” and those who chose to turn their backs were referred to as...