All history is local history, especially in a town as old as South Orange. When I read of memorable events in the American past, I wonder how they looked from here. I have some sense of how the American Revolution looked from the home front because of a diary held by the New Jersey Historical Society.

Before the Oranges were divided—or even called Orange with any consistency—a young woman named Jemima Cundict lived “over the Mountain, at the corner of Swinefield Road and the Second Valley Road,” according to the editor of History of the Oranges. She used her math textbook, entitled A Lesson in Broken Numbers not for its intended purpose, but for keeping a journal.

Her accounts begin in April 1772, just before she turned 18 years old. Jemima faithfully records deaths, the texts upon which the Rev. Jedediah Chapman preached, and her own measles symptoms. By 1774, however, her reports included mention of the world beyond the Oranges. The Continental Congress would gather shortly to resist taxation without representation; Jemima notes that “there seems to Be a Great Alteration among the young People this year Some that was Before Bad anuf is now I hope become New Creatures.” Hearing reports of the Continental Congress, where all the colonies agreed to stand together, Jemima wrote, “It seems we have trouble Some times a Coming for there is great Disturbance a Broad in the earth & they say it is tea that’s Caused it So then if they will Quarrel about such a trifling thing as that What must we expect But War and I think or at least fear that it will be so.”

Jemima was correct, and April 19, 1775, brought the opening salvo of the Revolutionary War at Lexington and Concord, Mass. Jemima writes, “As every Day Brings New Troubles so this Day Brings News that yesterday very early in the morning They Began to Fight at Boston. The Regulars We hear Shot first at Boston; they killed 30 of our men. A hundred and 50 of the Regulars.”

By early May, rumors of British invasion were swirling and militiamen were in training. Jemima witnessed training, probably in Newark, and reported what she made of the situation: “by What we Can hear the Quarrels are not Like to be made up without blood-shed. I have Jest now Heard Say that All hopes of Conciliation between Britten & her Colonies are at an end, for Both the King & his Parliament have announced our Destruction.”

By August 1776, the charter of American liberties had been signed and an act proclaiming the right of citizenship had been adopted by the state. Jemima notes that her minister preached a final sermon “& is gone out Chaplain in the Army.” Later that month, she reports on a local casualty, Jared Freeman, who “was taken sick at New York among the Sogers & was brought home & Died Soon After.”

War came even closer to Jemima. On Sept. 12, 1777, she wrote of an attack by the Regulars. “[They] took all the Cattle they Could…they kill’d Samuel Crame, and took Zadock & Allen heady & Samuel freeman prisoners … There was Several kill’d of the regulars, but the Number is yet unascertained.” This became known as “The Battle at Elizabethtown.”

In 1778, Jemima married Maj. Aaron Harrison. She ceased keeping a diary, and, sadly, never saw peace. On Nov. 14, 1779, at age 24, Jemima died, leaving a son only a few days old. 

Jemima Cundict was buried at the Old Burying Ground on Scotland Road, now part of Orange. I visited her there, leaving flowers, grateful that she made the Revolution—particularly poignant on Independence Day—seem real and immediate, in South Orange, 2009.