Who doesn’t like a good underdog story? One in which history gets turned upside down and sideways? You know, the kind of story where a young man loses his parents, not even 15 years old, and is left to the vagaries of life in London. And then you, William, go ahead and steal a hat near Lincoln’s Inn Fields after being afforded a fair chance in life by virtue of an apprenticeship. Tough luck, kid. You pulled a stunt which has you facing death by hanging. Little pity envelopes you and your ilk in a city rife with rampant crime and pestilence. Then comes a day, Friday October 21, 1725, to be precise. While languishing in the Condemn’d Hold at Newgate Prison, you write a poignant letter. Under bleak circumstances, resigned to your impending fate, you begin to thank a lady “a thousand times” for her efforts to spare your life. Pardon me … I need to find a box of tissues. This is so utterly sad. And then, without much ado, you grab quill and paper once more and lament for surely the last time. And with the same instrument which would later make you infamous, and later somewhat famous, you pen these parting words … the Dead Warrant will come down Saturday, Sunday, or Monday latest …

I tell you, this has got the makings.

Well, by now many of you know that young William Longmire did manage to escape the noose and was sentenced to 14 years in the colonies. And on a cold, wintry day in November William was ordered to be interred in “ship’s gaol”. Imagine freezing your derrière off for upwards of 5 months in a dank, disease-ridden hold of a prison ship. That’s what faced our intrepid hat thief. More tissues … And yet, William survived. On a ship where many perished from smallpox on the way to Virginia he was finally able to step ashore in April, 1726. In a little hamlet simply called Port Rappahannock. A little more than 4 years later, of all things, William was watching the prison in King George County. And was paid for it. This underdog story is taking a hell of a turn. For that was the moment, in my mind, when William, the felon, first began to nudge the historical applecart. And then he pushed it. That day in 1736, when Lord Fairfax decided to select William to enter into the Proprietary Books the cartographic details of his journey to secure his millions of acres and carve out his own personal landholdings in Virginia was also the day when a long, intense struggle vs the historical applecart ensued. Shortly after his initial stint with the Proprietary William pushed the applecart again. He not only swore an oath on a transaction for one of the wealthiest women in the colonies he also began writing entries for the court not long thereafter. He started off slowly, a bond here, an estate inventory there, until eventually, in June of 1744, he became the defacto recording secretary of the court. Every court order, every will, every tithable list, every record of any type from that day until sometime in October, 1748, was in the hand of William Longmire. And in every sense of the phrase William had already tipped over the proverbial applecart. Felons just don’t waltz into Virginia and work for the court. Or for Lord Fairfax no less. Heck, you might even say, by virtue of his double entry accounting work for Col Thomas Turner, William was hitting that applecart with a bat, repeatedly. When applecarts and felons meet it ain’t pretty. And if you read my previous article about William’s work on one of the most famous maps in Virginia history, the so-called Wm Mayo Map of 1737, you might even agree with me when I say that about that time William was already shoving that applecart to the ledge.

Intriguing little tale about “inconvenient” history, eh? But, I forgot one little detail. One that put another feather in William’s cap; another story putting him on the map:) Surely, after William had completed his work on the Mayo map and then to be discovered as authoring another famous survey map … one could say he pushed that applecart over the ledge and watched it smash to bits in the valley below. Don’t believe me? Why, kindly open up another tab and google: Christie’s Auction Page 5963631.

That, my dear reader, is a beautiful example of William’s handiwork. And how about that red ink and watercolor? What makes this survey map so famous you may ask? It is the very survey of a plot of land where a boy named George was born. And that survey map belonged to none other than his father, Augustine Washington. That land is where young George lived for about 6 years until his family moved to the western part of King George County n 1738. About 11 miles west of Wm Longmire’s home area. This is also a document that was actually signed by John Warner whereas the rest of the writing and annotations are William’s.

Applecarts and felons. Need I say more? Actually, I did dig up another “inconvenient” historical goodie. It involves another felon, a survey map, and just might include the presence of our intrepid hat thief. If shown to be true, and I have a good feeling about this, it will shed an entirely different light on Wm Longmire and what we know about him at present. So, let’s turn the page to my next article, aptly titled “Did He or Didn’t He?”