I think I may have stumbled upon an historical example of why people would bring guns to a public meeting. This story really starts with the sudden death of the Governor of the Colony of Virginia, Samuel Mathews, Jr, in January of 1660. He had been born in America, and there were high hopes he would be a brave new leader of a brave new world. Instead, on March 13, 1660 the Burgesses, members of the Virginia colonial assembly, decided to take a step back to the future by appointing “the honorable Sir William Berkeley” as their Governor, again.
Eight years before “Will” as his friends called him, had been a popular Governor. Now, at the age of 55, Berkeley again accepted the responsibility of leading the 35,000 English settlers in the “Old Dominion”. Will was a playwrite and a fighter, a Cyrano, who Mary Newton Standard has described as, “Every inch a gallant soldier, every inch a gentleman, yet haughty, unsympathetic and unlovable; narrow in mind and in heart.” (The Story of Bacon's Rebellion, Neale – 1907 ©, Jeffrey C. Weaver, 2000) She might have added he was also a drama queen. 
His supporters were the FFV, the First Families of Virginia, including the bloodlines of Lee, Spencer, Washington, Randolph, Fitzhugh, Harrison, Custis, and others. And in 1674, there landed in the midst of this fraternity Will’s nephew, the impatient and ambitious 24 year old, Nathaniel Bacon. 
Will welcomed his nephew warmly, giving him property and a trading concession with the Indians. Being a politician, Will also took the opportunity to shore up his own political support by naming his nephew to the Colonial Council, thus assuming he could count on the support of his family. However Will did not appoint his nephew as a commander of the local militia, and it was the appointment he did not receive which Nathaniel took note of. 
But why had this young man traveled to America? Well, Nathaniel had recently married and his new in-laws had quickly realized he was a pretentious pompous fraud. They promptly disinherited their daughter. And that was why Nathaniel had come to America. He needed cash. But Nathaniel had picked a bad time to make a new start. 
Beginning in 1670 Virginia had suffered from a string of hailstorms, floods, and droughts. Years of bad harvests were followed by the ‘bitter winter’ of 1672-73 when half the colonies’ livestock starved to death. By the spring 1676 wheat and corn or so scarce that Will had to ban their exportation even to neighboring colonies. 
In cash-poor Virginia colony, where debts and salaries were often paid in tobacco and crop futures, this created a credit crunch which hit the newer settlers, like young Nathaniel Bacon, much harder than their bankers, who were usually members of the FFV, and close friends of William Berkeley. 
The newer settlers were known as ‘freeholders’, and these men, such as William Drummond, wanted more cash in the colony, and they didn’t like paying taxes, and they wanted a war against the Indians, which, of course, would have required more taxes. 
Like his inlaws before them, the freeholders took quick measure of Nathaniel Bacon. But these men were not looking for family. They figured the boy didn’t know enough about Virginia (or Indians) to argue with them if they made him a general. So they did, without the Governor’s approval. Nathaniel immediately marched his little army off to butcher some local Indians. As the freeholders intended, that put the Governor in a bind, because the dead Indians had signed a peace treaty. It looked like the entire frontier would erupt in an Indian war. Will demanded an apology from his nephew, who proudly refused. 
Then in June of 1676 Nathaniel arrived in Jamestown for the opening of the House of Burgesses and Will took the opportunity to arrest the little snot. Nathaniel was dragged in front of the council and required to apologize. Then Will magnanimously pardoned him. It was great theatre, but if the Governor thought he was directing this little melodrama he was mistaken. He was now facing an actor just as capable of historanics as himself. 
Overnight, Nathaniel slipped out of town and returned the next morning in front of an ad hoc audience, er, army, of 300 freeholder militiamen. They marched into town, with flags flying and drums pounding. The members of the house hung out the windows of their parliment building, mesmerized by the preformance. 
Never one to let an audience go to waste, Will came stomping out of the hall and ripped open his shirt. Baring his chest, or at least his ruffles, Will declared to the spectators, “Here I am! Shoot me before God! (It’s a) fair mark, a fair mark! Shoot!” Nathaniel calmly said no, thank you. Instead he wanted the Governor to name him overall commander of the entire Indian war. Since the Governor’s didn’t want any Indian war, he exited at once, stage right. Nathaniel, with no actor to play against, went over the top. He started screaming. He ordered his men to surround the meeting house, and announced he would kill everyone inside if he were not given total command at once. For a few minutes it looked as if there would be a wholesale slaughter just for the sake of a theatrical effect. But a touch of reality was supplied by the supporting players. Reason eventually prevailed. Will was persuaded to sign his nephew’s commission.
The lesson here I would say is that people who bring matchlock black powder muskets to public meetings have a “flare” for the dramatic. They are looking to attract an audience, i.e. , in an appropriately dramatic fashion, twenty-five year old Nathaniel Bacon had just overthrown the royal governor of Virginia. 
But what about an Act Two? On July 30, 1676 the boy General published a “Declaration of the People”. “If virtue be sin, if piety be guilt, all the principles of morality, goodness, and justice be perverted.” It might be poetry but Nathaniel was now addressing a skeptical audience. The declaration went on to demand the arrest of Will and 19 other FFVers as “traitors to the people”. Nathaniel then announced a general war on the Indians and demanded an oath of allegiance from all government officials. It was signed, Nathanial Bacon, General, “By the Consent of ye People”, and was made without any of ye people present. The paperwork thus complete, Nathaniel marched off with 1,000 men to attack the nearest Indians. 
About now it dawned on the more thoughtful freeholders that they had hitched their fortunes to a rather temperamental artist. But Drummond for one would listen to no such warnings. “I am in over (my)shoes”? I will be over (my) boots!” He soon was in over his neck. The governor gathered his own supporters at Jamestown, and counter-proclaimed his nephew a traitor. 
Nathaniel marched his army back to Jamestown, and on September 19, 1676 Nathaniel burned the capital of Virginia to the ground. It was a sorry end for the “Old cradle of an infant world, In which a nestling empire lay” (Ode to Jamestown, James Kikke Paclding). But it was also the defining moment of Nathaniel Bacon’s performance. The very set he was preforming upon, the edifice painfully constructed over a century of painful effort, at the cost of thousands of lives, had been put to the torch in one adolescent thespian outburst. There was no third act. Forty days later the great actor was dead.
Nathaniel Bacon died of the “bloody flux”, which is the old name for dysentery, on October 25th, 1676. With him died “Bacon’s Rebellion", leaving Will free to hunt down the freeholders. When William Drummond was brought before him, the governor greeted him by saying, “I am more glad to see you than any man in Virginia. Mr. Drummond, you shall be hanged in half an hour.” And he was. Twenty-four men in all were executed for their roles in the uprising. Charles II back in London would later observe, “That old fool (Berekely) has put to death more people in that naked country than I did here for the murder of my father.” A year later the curtain dropped on William Berekeky. He died in England, having been recalled to explain himself. 
Historian Susan McCulley has noted, “Bacon's Rebellion does seem at first glance to be the beginnings of America's quest for Independence. But closer examination of the facts reveals what it really was: a power struggle between two very strong personalities.” 
Strong personalities? I would call them two of the biggest hams in American history.
http://colonial-america.suite101.com/article.cfm/bacons_rebellion_1676#ixzz0P10jXiYb
Eight years before “Will” as his friends called him, had been a popular Governor. Now, at the age of 55, Berkeley again accepted the responsibility of leading the 35,000 English settlers in the “Old Dominion”. Will was a playwrite and a fighter, a Cyrano, who Mary Newton Standard has described as, “Every inch a gallant soldier, every inch a gentleman, yet haughty, unsympathetic and unlovable; narrow in mind and in heart.” (The Story of Bacon's Rebellion, Neale – 1907 ©, Jeffrey C. Weaver, 2000) She might have added he was also a drama queen. His supporters were the FFV, the First Families of Virginia, including the bloodlines of Lee, Spencer, Washington, Randolph, Fitzhugh, Harrison, Custis, and others. And in 1674, there landed in the midst of this fraternity Will’s nephew, the impatient and ambitious 24 year old, Nathaniel Bacon. Will welcomed his nephew warmly, giving him property and a trading concession with the Indians. Being a politician, Will also took the opportunity to shore up his own political support by naming his nephew to the Colonial Council, thus assuming he could count on the support of his family. However Will did not appoint his nephew as a commander of the local militia, and it was the appointment he did not receive which Nathaniel took note of. But why had this young man traveled to America? Well, Nathaniel had recently married and his new in-laws had quickly realized he was a pretentious pompous fraud. They promptly disinherited their daughter. And that was why Nathaniel had come to America. He needed cash. But Nathaniel had picked a bad time to make a new start. Beginning in 1670 Virginia had suffered from a string of hailstorms, floods, and droughts. Years of bad harvests were followed by the ‘bitter winter’ of 1672-73 when half the colonies’ livestock starved to death. By the spring 1676 wheat and corn or so scarce that Will had to ban their exportation even to neighboring colonies. In cash-poor Virginia colony, where debts and salaries were often paid in tobacco and crop futures, this created a credit crunch which hit the newer settlers, like young Nathaniel Bacon, much harder than their bankers, who were usually members of the FFV, and close friends of William Berkeley. The newer settlers were known as ‘freeholders’, and these men, such as William Drummond, wanted more cash in the colony, and they didn’t like paying taxes, and they wanted a war against the Indians, which, of course, would have required more taxes. Like his inlaws before them, the freeholders took quick measure of Nathaniel Bacon. But these men were not looking for family. They figured the boy didn’t know enough about Virginia (or Indians) to argue with them if they made him a general. So they did, without the Governor’s approval. Nathaniel immediately marched his little army off to butcher some local Indians. As the freeholders intended, that put the Governor in a bind, because the dead Indians had signed a peace treaty. It looked like the entire frontier would erupt in an Indian war. Will demanded an apology from his nephew, who proudly refused. Then in June of 1676 Nathaniel arrived in Jamestown for the opening of the House of Burgesses and Will took the opportunity to arrest the little snot. Nathaniel was dragged in front of the council and required to apologize. Then Will magnanimously pardoned him. It was great theatre, but if the Governor thought he was directing this little melodrama he was mistaken. He was now facing an actor just as capable of historanics as himself. Overnight, Nathaniel slipped out of town and returned the next morning in front of an ad hoc audience, er, army, of 300 freeholder militiamen. They marched into town, with flags flying and drums pounding. The members of the house hung out the windows of their parliment building, mesmerized by the preformance. Never one to let an audience go to waste, Will came stomping out of the hall and ripped open his shirt. Baring his chest, or at least his ruffles, Will declared to the spectators, “Here I am! Shoot me before God! (It’s a) fair mark, a fair mark! Shoot!” Nathaniel calmly said no, thank you. Instead he wanted the Governor to name him overall commander of the entire Indian war. Since the Governor’s didn’t want any Indian war, he exited at once, stage right. Nathaniel, with no actor to play against, went over the top. He started screaming. He ordered his men to surround the meeting house, and announced he would kill everyone inside if he were not given total command at once. For a few minutes it looked as if there would be a wholesale slaughter just for the sake of a theatrical effect. But a touch of reality was supplied by the supporting players. Reason eventually prevailed. Will was persuaded to sign his nephew’s commission.The lesson here I would say is that people who bring matchlock black powder muskets to public meetings have a “flare” for the dramatic. They are looking to attract an audience, i.e. , in an appropriately dramatic fashion, twenty-five year old Nathaniel Bacon had just overthrown the royal governor of Virginia. But what about an Act Two? On July 30, 1676 the boy General published a “Declaration of the People”. “If virtue be sin, if piety be guilt, all the principles of morality, goodness, and justice be perverted.” It might be poetry but Nathaniel was now addressing a skeptical audience. The declaration went on to demand the arrest of Will and 19 other FFVers as “traitors to the people”. Nathaniel then announced a general war on the Indians and demanded an oath of allegiance from all government officials. It was signed, Nathanial Bacon, General, “By the Consent of ye People”, and was made without any of ye people present. The paperwork thus complete, Nathaniel marched off with 1,000 men to attack the nearest Indians. About now it dawned on the more thoughtful freeholders that they had hitched their fortunes to a rather temperamental artist. But Drummond for one would listen to no such warnings. “I am in over (my)shoes”? I will be over (my) boots!” He soon was in over his neck. The governor gathered his own supporters at Jamestown, and counter-proclaimed his nephew a traitor. Nathaniel marched his army back to Jamestown, and on September 19, 1676 Nathaniel burned the capital of Virginia to the ground. It was a sorry end for the “Old cradle of an infant world, In which a nestling empire lay” (Ode to Jamestown, James Kikke Paclding). But it was also the defining moment of Nathaniel Bacon’s performance. The very set he was preforming upon, the edifice painfully constructed over a century of painful effort, at the cost of thousands of lives, had been put to the torch in one adolescent thespian outburst. There was no third act. Forty days later the great actor was dead.Nathaniel Bacon died of the “bloody flux”, which is the old name for dysentery, on October 25th, 1676. With him died “Bacon’s Rebellion", leaving Will free to hunt down the freeholders. When William Drummond was brought before him, the governor greeted him by saying, “I am more glad to see you than any man in Virginia. Mr. Drummond, you shall be hanged in half an hour.” And he was. Twenty-four men in all were executed for their roles in the uprising. Charles II back in London would later observe, “That old fool (Berekely) has put to death more people in that naked country than I did here for the murder of my father.” A year later the curtain dropped on William Berekeky. He died in England, having been recalled to explain himself. Historian Susan McCulley has noted, “Bacon's Rebellion does seem at first glance to be the beginnings of America's quest for Independence. But closer examination of the facts reveals what it really was: a power struggle between two very strong personalities.” Strong personalities? I would call them two of the biggest hams in American history.http://colonial-america.suite101.com/article.cfm/bacons_rebellion_1676#ixzz0P10jXiYb
- 30 -
In 1932 Patton led the U.S. Army’s last cavalry charge - against a “bonus army” of protesting U.S. army veterans. He was a lifelong anti-Semite, 
His father served under Confederate General J.E.B. Stuart, and a great-uncle was wounded at Picket’s Charge, defending black slavery. But while others refused, Patton requested a regiment of Black tankers 
In late May of 1945, when he made a brief trip home to Los Angeles, he was greeted by a parade and a cheering crowd of 100,000 at the coliseum. But despite his contributions to the victory over Germany, on October 2nd , 1945 he was removed from command because he refused allow Germany to starve (Joint Chiefs of Staff directive #1067). And on December 21st 1945, America’s greatest combat general of the 20th century died as a result of a low speed automobile accident. It was, again in Patton’s own words, “A hell of a way to die.” 
The terms of his dismissal were insulting and they were meant to be. Patton was ordered by General Eisenhower not to make any public statements or speak to the press. As a result there had been no explanation as to why he had suddenly lost his beloved Third Army, but he was still assigned to Europe which kept him out of sight and away from microphones. It was as if General Eisenhower was already running for President.
The next day, Sunday, December 10th , Gay and Patton set off at 7 a.m. for a hunting trip in the forests outside of the Bavarian Cathedral town of Spry. It was a cold and overcast morning. 
They traveled in two vehicles, a half ton truck driven by Sergeant Joe Spruce and a 
Part of the limousine’s stylish additions included a window and divider between the driver’s and passengers’ compartments and a small rectangular silver plaque on the divider with the word “Fleetwood ” embossed in sweeping script.
On the outskirts of the devastated city the two vehicle convoy came to the multiple tracks of the bombed out railroad yards. Here Sergeant Spruce sped ahead, while the Cadillac was required to stop for a short freight train.
He wrote later that the road was clear ahead except for an on-coming 2 ½ ton truck – a deuce and a half – about a half mile up the road. Stretching along both sides of the road was a quartermaster’s tank repair depot, and burned and broken tanks lined the road. 
As they sped past this detritus Patton, who was sitting on the right side of the bench seat, commented on the wastage of war. One tank caught his attention and he turned his body and pointed off to the left, saying, “And look at that heap of rubbish”. Gay turned to look to look and so did Woodring, the driver. It was 11:48 a.m. 
The approaching truck suddenly turned to its left, across the path of the Cadillac. Woodring slammed on his brakes, but it was too late. At impact the truck was going no more than 15 miles an hour - the Cadillac probably less than twenty-five. But nobody in either vehicle was wearing a seat belt. The big Cadillac slid a few feet and then thudded into the right side external fuel tank of the truck. The impact was so light that the fuel tank was not cracked. 
The front chrome grill of the Cadillac however was shattered like a boxer's front teeth, and the left front wheel hub was twisted and broken off, revealing the tire beneath. But the massive steel frame of the Cadillac performed its unintended function and transferred most of the force of the accident directly to the passengers’ bodies. Sitting in the backseat, General Gay was thrown forward and then back against the seat. And Patton, who was already leaning forward and half turned to his left, was thrown off the bench seat and fell against the divider, his forehead striking the plaque, tearing a small section of skin and bending his neck sharply backward. In recoil he then fell across Gay.
Patton immediately asked Gay if he was hurt. “Not a bit, Sir”, Gay assured him. Gay then asked, “And you, General?” Patton immediately replied, “I think I’m paralyzed. I’m having trouble breathing, Hap.” Woodring helped Gay out from beneath Patton, made sure help had been summoned and then approached the driver of the truck, Private Robert Thompson. Woodring would later contend that Thompson was drunk, but Patton insisted that no actions be taken against the truck’s driver.
A doctor and an ambulance quickly arrived, and at 12:45 p.m. Patton was admitted to the 130th Station Hospital at Heidelberg. An x-ray instantly revealed what the doctors suspected; a simple fracture of the third vertebra with a posterior dislocation of the fourth vertebra, also known as the Hangman's Fracture. 
In short, Patton had broken his neck and was paralyzed from the neck down. There was still a chance he could recover, but that would not be known until the swelling of his spinal cord had gone down. 
He was taken to surgery and two “Crutcheld” (fishhook) tongs were inserted below his cheek bones to apply traction to his neck. By the next morning the traction had reduced the dislocation, but the swelling had not yet gone down.
To the constant stream of senior officers who visited him, Patton was cheerful. In private to his nurse he was depressed and frightened. Eisenhower did not visit, nor did General Bradley, Patton's immediate superior. Then on the morning of the 12th Patton reported that he could move his left index finger, slightly. His wife arrived that morning, having been flown from California. She warned the doctors that the General had a history of embolisms.
On the 13th Patton showed strength in his left arm and right leg. But that was as far as the improvements were to go. Slowly the sixty-one year old began losing ground. He was given plasma and protein, as albumen. On the 20th of December Patton reported trouble breathing. An X-ray confirmed that he had a blood clot in his right lung. He was now suffering from pneumonia and was placed on oxygen. Late on the 21st of December Patton whispered to his wife, “It’s too dark. I mean too late.” Shortly afterward he died, from injuries which could have been prevented with a simple seat belt.
The official cause of death was listed as heart failure. On Christmas Eve, 1945, in a pouring rain, General George S. Patton was laid to rest in the U.S. military cemetery at Hamm, Luxembourg. As the casket was lowered a chaplain repeated one Patton's favorite sayings: "Death is as light as a feather."
I would prefer to remember General George S. Patton by something else he said. “Anyone, in any walk of life, who is content with mediocrity is untrue to himself and to American tradition." But I fear I will always remember that but for a simple seat belt, it was, “A hell of a way to die.” 
- 30 -
Overnight this girl from the countryside found herself living in the Queen’s house (now Buckingham Palace) in the center of the largest city in the western world. There Sara saw royalty up close and she advanced from “…opinionated child to a stoic onlooker…”. She had to care for Lady Grosvenor’s clothing, help dress and undress her, serve her meals and see to her chamber pot at night. And then, in 1771, Sara was accused of stealing jewelry from the queen. 
There is a problem with this story, and his name was Henry, Duke of Cumberland, the younger brother to the King. In 1766 Henry had secretly married a commoner (above), Maria Wapole, which made him a scandal. He was also “…fierce of temper, frivolous of character, and foppish in his dress…In the year 1770, the attentions of the duke to Lady Grosvenor were so marked, and so ridiculous, that everybody talked about them…
"He followed her about in disguises, often betraying himself by his fopperies and imbecility…” (pp65-66, Lives of the Queens of England; Dr. John Doran, 1855). Perhaps the Duke was suffering from the same infirmaries which would shortly produce the “Madness of King George III”, his older brother. If he had been the one caught stealing jewelry (but Lady Grosvenor’s chambers) it would have been symptomatic, and a scandal requiring Lady Grivenor to leave court. In 1771 the Duke was finally ordered from court himself. And while there is no evidence that he was responsible for what happened to the maidservant of Lady Grosvenor, Sara Wilson, his guilt would explain certain odd events that followed. 
Sara was arrested and charged with sneaking into the Queen’s private quarters, breaking into a locked cabinet and stealing a ring, a dress and a miniature portrait of Queen Charlotte. What a 17 year old servent girl, less than a year out of the countryside, with no room of her own, would have done with such items, begs reason. But guilty or not, Sara was completely at the mercy of “her betters”. And where scandal might have attached if the same items had been stolen from 18 year Lady Grosvenor, none was dared implied of the Queen. Sara was convicted and given the option of either hanging or transportation. In July of 1771 she boarded a prison ship bound for Baltimore in the colony of Maryland. And somehow she took with her most of the damming evidence against her; the ring, the dress and the miniature portrait of the Queen (below).
The 4-7 week trip probably came close to killing her: “…during the voyage there is on board these ships terrible misery, stench, fumes, horror, vomiting…fever, dysentery, headache, heat, constipation, boils, scurvy… The misery reaches the climax when a gale rages for 2 or 3 nights and days…Children from 1 to 7 years rarely survive the voyage…warm food is served only three times a week, the rations being very poor and very little..."
...The water which is served out of the ships is often very black, thick and full of worms, so that one cannot drink it without loathing, even with the greatest thirst." (pp 25-31 Journey to Pennsylvania in the Year 1750” Gottlieb Mittelberger) And those were conditions for persons who paid for the privilege. Felons were not so well accommodated. 
Sara then had to survive her arrival. “Every day Englishmen…go on board the newly arrived ship…and select among the healthy persons such as they deem suitable for their business, and bargain with them how long they will serve for their passage money “(ibid). 
But Sara had an advantage which none of the other transported felons possessed. In the cash poor American colonies the dress alone was worth a small fortune if sold. How did such valuable property miss the sharp eyes of her betrayed mistress back in London, and the servants of the Queen, and the jailers? And how did it escape the purview of Mr. William Devall, her new master? 
We do not know what Mr. Devall’s occupation was but only that he owned property along Bush Creek, which arises south west of New Market, and flows into the Monocracy River southeast of Frederick, Maryland. If Sara had harbored any hopes of a new life in America, she must have been sadly disappointed. The life of a servant girl was not much different in either country.
Gail Collins noted in her book “America's Women: Four Hundred Years of Dolls, Drudges, Helpmates, and Heroines”, that ““A study of one Maryland County showed that 20% of the women who arrived as servants…wound up in court for bearing illegitimate children. Some of them must have been raped or seduced by the master of their house, but they were still punished as if they had freely chosen….. In one remarkable case, a seven year old girl was reprimanded when she was molested by an adult male. The man that assaulted her was convicted. But the girl's mother was also ordered to punish the young victim in order to increase the child's "grief for her offense." (pp9-10).
It should have been no surprise then, that within day’s of Sara’s arrival, in October of 1771, her new master was advertising; "Run away from the subscriber, a servant maid named Sarah Wilson…she has a blemish in her right eye, black rolled hair, stoops in her shoulders, makes a common practice of writing and marking her clothes with a Crown and a B. Whoever secures the said servant woman, or takes her home, shall receive five pistols, besides all cost and charges. William Devall." 
Sara had only to follow the Monocracy River south a few miles to reach the Potomac River. On that stream’s southern shore was the “Tidewater Aristocracy” of Virginia, desperately anxious to prove to all its sophistication. Englishman Edward Kimber had noted that in Virginia in 1745, “Wherever you travel . . . your ears are constantly astonished at the number of colonels, majors, and captains that you hear mentioned: In short, the whole country seems at first to you a retreat of heroes.”
Almost immediately Sara assumed her new persona; Lady Susanna Carolina Matilda: estranged by a family feud from her sister, Charlotte, Queen of England. Sara dazzled her victims with court gossip – real and invented - and in exchange for lodging and meals, the use of a carriage, monetary gifts and letters of introduction to the next plantation house, the Lady Matilda granted political positions, military appointments and even economic beneficences, none of which were worth the paper they were written on. And few seemed to notice that the lady spoke not a word of German, even though, presumably, that was her native tongue.
Over the next two years Lady Matilda traveled down the coast of Virginia and passed on to the backwaters of the Carolinas. On May 13, 1773, there appeared the following item in the bemused “London Magazine”: “Some time ago one Sarah Wilson…assumed the title of the Princess Susanna Carolina Matilda, pronouncing herself to be an own sister to our sovereign lady the queen…she acted her part so plausibly as to persuade the generality that she was no impostor….At length, however, an advertisement appeared, and a messenger arrived from her master, who raised a loud hue and cry for her serene highness". 
Sara was returned under guard to Bush Creek. For her escape, her term of service was extended by two years. But history was on Sara’s side. In the spring of 1775 the colonists began shooting at British soldiers, and William Devall joined the American forces. In his absence, Sara Wilson slipped away again, this time making her way to British occupied New York City. There she married William Talbot, an officer in the Royal Light Dragoons. When the war ended, the Talbot’s chose not to return to England, where Sara would have been subject to arrest. They settled instead in the bowery of Manhattan, and quickly faded into history. 
But what an amazing woman Sara was. She became a criminal to survive in normal times, and found normality in a revolution. To call her a commoner misses the point entirely. 
