ON MAY 19, 1780, ALL OF NEW ENGLAND was plunged into darkness. At midmorning, the sky turned an eerie yellow. Within an hour, it had become so dark that people had to dine by candlelight. In the afternoon, the clouds took on a higher and more brassy color with occasional flashes that resembled the Northern Lights.' We now know that the of 1780 was caused by the common New England practice of burning fields to clear the brush more effectively and provide a fertile, coating of ashes, but to men and women living amid the dislocations of revolution, the event had supernatural meaning. For some, it heralded the imminent appearance of Christ in the Second Coming; for others less certain of their ability to read celestial signs with such precision, it was at least a warning that these are the latter days.2 The millennial expectations unleashed by the Dark Day can be traced in numerous pamphlets, newspaper articles, and almanacs, and have been read by historians as evidence of the pervasiveness of millennial thinking in revolutionary America among all classes of people, from learned divines to ordinary farmers. Far from being the preserve of a small number of biblical scholars and theologians, prophetic exegesis was a vernacular genre in eighteenth-century North America, a way of interpreting past, present, and future events according to the narratives of biblical history. A people as literate and as well versed in millennial lore as the New England Puritans could scarcely avoid interpreting the Dark Day of May 1780 as a prophetic sign of the times. Thanks to the labors of intellectual historians like Ruth Bloch, James Davidson, and Nathan Hatch, we have a fairly good grasp of the extent and depth of millennial thinking (or at least of publications devoted to millennial themes) in North America during and after the revolutionary crisis. We know that, contrary to the situation in Great Britain, millennialism was a constant theme in religious literature from the