University of Virginia Library

TO JOHN ADAMS.

DEAREST FRIEND,

I have seen your letters to Colonels Palmer and
Warren. I pity your embarrassments. How difficult
the task to quench the fire and the pride of private


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ambition, and to sacrifice ourselves and all our
hopes and expectations to the public weal! How
few have souls capable of so noble an undertaking!
How often are the laurels worn by those who have
had no share in earning them! But there is a future
recompense of reward, to which the upright man
looks, and which he will most assuredly obtain, provided
he perseveres unto the end.

The appointment of the generals Washington and
Lee gives universal satisfaction. The people have
the highest opinion of Lee's abilities, but you know
the continuation of the popular breath depends much
upon favorable events. I had the pleasure of seeing
both the generals and their aids-de-camp soon
after their arrival, and of being personally made
known to them. They very politely express their
regard for you. Major Mifflin said he had orders
from you to visit me at Braintree. I told him I
should be very happy to see him there, and accordingly
sent Mr. Thaxter to Cambridge with a card, to
him and Mr. Read, to dine with me. Mrs. Warren
and her son were to be with me. They very politely
received the message, and lamented that they
were not able to come, upon account of expresses
which they were on that day to get in readiness to
send off.

I was struck with General Washington. You had
prepared me to entertain a favorable opinion of him,
but I thought the half was not told me. Dignity
with ease and complacency, the gentleman and soldier,
look agreeably blended in him. Modesty marks


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every line and feature of his face. Those lines of
Dryden instantly occurred to me;

"Mark his majestic fabric! he's a temple
Sacred by birth, and built by hands divine;
His soul's the deity that lodges there;
Nor is the pile unworthy of the god."

General Lee looks like a careless, hardy veteran,
and, by his appearance, brought to my mind his
namesake, Charles the Twelfth, of Sweden. The
elegance of his pen far exceeds that of his person.

You have made frequent complaints that your
friends do not write to you. I have stirred up some
of them. May not I in my turn make complaints?
All the letters I receive from you seem to be written
in so much haste, that they scarcely leave room for
a social feeling. They let me know that you exist,
but some of them contain scarcely six lines. I want
some sentimental effusions of the heart. I am sure
you are not destitute of them; or are they all absorbed
in the great public? Much is due to that, I
know; but, being part of the public, I lay claim to a
larger share than I have had. You used to be more
communicative on Sundays. I always loved a Sabbath
day's letter, for then you had a greater command
of your time; but hush to all complaints.

I am much surprised that you have not been more
accurately informed of what passes in the camps.
As to intelligence from Boston, it is but very seldom
we are able to collect any thing that may be relied
on; and to report the vague, flying rumors, would be
endless. I heard yesterday, by one Mr. Roulstone,


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a goldsmith, who got out in a fishing schooner, that
their distress increased upon them fast. Their beef
is all spent; their malt and cider all gone. All the
fresh provisions they can procure, they are obliged
to give to the sick and wounded. Thirteen of our
men who were in jail, and were wounded at the battle
of Charlestown, were dead. No man dared now
to be seen talking to his friend in the street. They
were obliged to be within, every evening, at ten
o'clock, according to martial law; nor could any
inhabitant walk any street in town after that time,
without a pass from Gage. He has ordered all the
molasses to be distilled up into rum for the soldiers;
taken away all licenses, and given out others, obliging
to a forfeiture of ten pounds, if any rum is sold
without written orders from the general. He gives
much the same account of the killed and wounded
we have from others. The spirit, he says, which
prevails among the soldiers, is a spirit of malice and
revenge; there is no true courage and bravery to be
observed among them. Their duty is hard, always
mounting guard with their packs at their backs,
ready for an alarm, which they live in continual hazard
of. Dr. Eliot is not on board a man-of-war, as
has been reported, but perhaps was left in town, as
the comfort and support of those who cannot escape.
He was constantly with our prisoners. Messrs. Lovell
and Leach, with others, are certainly in jail. A
poor milch cow was last week killed in town, and
sold for a shilling sterling per pound. The transports
arrived last week from York, but every additional

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man adds to their distress. There has been a little expedition this week to Long Island.[1] There
have been, before, several attempts to go on, but
three men-of-war lay near, and cutters all round the
island, so that they could not succeed. A number
of whaleboats lay at Germantown. Three hundred
volunteers, commanded by one Captain Tupper,
came on Monday evening and took the boats, went
on, and brought off seventy odd sheep, fifteen head
of cattle, and sixteen prisoners, thirteen of whom
were sent by (Simple Sapling)[2] to mow the hay,
which they had very badly executed. They were
all asleep in the house and barn. When they were
taken, there were three women with them. Our
heroes came off in triumph, not being observed by
their enemies. This spirited up others, who could
not endure the thought that the house and barn
should afford them any shelter;—they did not destroy
them the night before for fear of being discovered.
Captain Wild, of this town, with about
twenty-five of his company; Captain Gold, of Weymouth,
with as many of his, and some other volunteers,
to the amount of a hundred, obtained leave to
go on and destroy the hay, together with the house
and barn; and in open day, in full view of the men-of-war,
they set off from the Moon,[3] so called, covered

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by a number of men who were placed there,
—went on and set fire to the buildings and hay.
A number of armed cutters immediately surrounded
the island and fired upon our men. They came off
with a hot and continued fire upon them, the bullets
flying in every direction, and the men-of-war's boats
plying them with small arms. Many in this town,
who were spectators, expected every moment our
men would all be sacrificed, for sometimes they
were so near as to be called and damned by their
enemies, and ordered to surrender; yet they all returned
in safety, not one man even wounded. Upon
the Moon we lost one man, from the cannon on
board the man-of-war. On the evening of the same
day, a man-of-war came and anchored near Great
Hill, and two cutters came to Pig Rocks. It occasioned
an alarm in this town, and we were up all
night. They remain there yet, but have not ventured
to land any men.

This town have chosen their representative. Colonel
Palmer is the man. There was a considerable
muster upon Thayer's side, and Vinton's company
marched up in order to assist, but got sadly disappointed.
Newcomb insisted upon it that no man
should vote who was in the army. He had no notion
of being under the military power; said we
might be so situated as to have the greater part of
the people engaged in the military, and then all
power would be wrested out of the hands of the civil
magistrate. He insisted upon its being put to vote,
and carried his point immediately. It brought


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Thayer to his speech, who said all he could against
it.

As to the situation of the camps, our men are in
general healthy, much more so at Roxbury than at
Cambridge, and the camp is in vastly better order.
General Thomas has the character of an excellent
officer. His merit has certainly been overlooked, as
modest merit generally is. I hear General Washington
is much pleased with his conduct.

Every article here in the West India way is very
scarce and dear. In six weeks we shall not be able
to purchase any article of the kind. I wish you would
let Bass get me one pound of pepper, and two yards
of black calamanco for shoes. I cannot wear leather,
if I go barefoot. Bass may make a fine profit
if he lays in a stock for himself. You can hardly
imagine how much we want many common small
articles, which are not manufactured amongst ourselves;
but we will have them in time; not one pin
to be purchased for love or money. I wish you
could convey me a thousand by any friend travelling
this way. It is very provoking to have such a plenty
so near us, but, Tantalus-like, not be able to touch.
I should have been glad to have laid in a small stock
of the West India articles, but I cannot get one copper;
no person thinks of paying any thing, and I do
not choose to run in debt.

We have not yet been much distressed for grain.
Every thing at present looks blooming. O that peace
would once more extend her olive branch;


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"This day be bread and peace my lot;
All else beneath the sun,
Thou knowest if best bestowed or not,
And let thy will be done."
"But is the Almighty ever bound to please,
Build by my wish, or studious of my ease?
Shall I determine where his frowns shall fall,
And fence my grotto from the lot of all?
Prostrate, his sovereign wisdom I adore,
Intreat his mercy, but I dare no more."

I have now written you all I can collect from every
quarter. 'T is fit for no eyes but yours, because you
can make all necessary allowances. I cannot copy.

There are yet in town three of the selectmen and
some thousands of inhabitants, 't is said. I hope to
hear from you soon. Do let me know if there is
any prospect of seeing you? Next Wednesday is
thirteen weeks since you went away. I must bid
you adieu.

You have many friends, though they have not noticed
you by writing. I am sorry they have been so
negligent. I hope no share of that blame lies upon

Your most affectionate
Portia.
 
[1]

In Boston harbor. This event is repeatedly noticed in
"The Remembrancer," for 1775, pp. 242, 257, 262.

[2]

These are the words in the original, but the Editor cannot
explain them.

[3]

The name given to a small island in Boston harbor.