Golden Hill
FRANCIS SPUFFORD

It is 1 December 1746, and young Richard writes to his father, the Reverend Pompilius Smith. Pompilius is safe in his English pulpit where, his miserable son assumes, he is clapping a hand to his temple as he reads, for Richard is languishing in a debtors’ gaol in New-York (sic), imprisoned for fraud. He only arrived a month ago, and already he is accused of a hanging offence.
Whether his worthy progenitor ever receives the letter, or what his reaction might have been, we shall never know. But Richard will not be hanged, for a ship is at this moment docking in the small foggy harbour of what was then just a little American town, bearing the letter which may well prove that he is indeed owed a large sum of money by the rapacious Mr Lovell – whose witty, sour and spiteful daughter, Tabitha, the incorrigibly insouciant Richard, predictably, rather fancies.