University of Virginia Library

TO JOHN ADAMS.

If alarming half a dozen places at the same time is
an act of generalship, Howe may boast of his late
conduct. We have never, since the evacuation of
Boston, been under apprehensions of an invasion
from them, equal to what we suffered last week.
All Boston was in confusion, packing up and carting
out of town household furniture, military stores,

goods, &c. Not less than a thousand teams were employed
on Friday and Saturday; and, to their shame
be it told, not a small trunk would they curry under
eight dollars, and many of them, I am told, asked a
hundred dollars a load; for carting a hogshead of
molasses eight miles, thirty dollars. O human nature!
or rather, O inhuman nature! what art thou?
The report of the fleet's being seen off Cape Ann
Friday night gave me the alarm, and, though pretty
weak, I set about packing up, my things, and on
Saturday removed a load.

When I looked around me and beheld the bounties
of Heaven so liberally bestowed, in fine fields of
corn, grass, flax, and English grain, and thought it
might soon become a prey to these merciless ravagers,
our habitations laid waste, and, if our flight
preserved our lives, we must return to barren fields,
empty barns, and desolate habitations, if any we
find, (perhaps not where to lay our heads,) my heart
was too full to bear the weight of affliction which I
thought just ready to overtake us, and my body too
weak almost to bear the shock, unsupported by my
better half.

But, thanks be to Heaven, we are at present relieved
from our fears respecting ourselves. I now
feel anxious for your safety, but hope prudence will
direct to a proper care and attention to yourselves.
May this second attempt of Howe's prove his utter
ruin. May destruction overtake him as a whirlwind.

We have a report of an engagement at the northward,
in which our troops behaved well, drove the

enemy into their lines, killed and took three hundred
and fifty prisoners. The account came in last
night. I have not particulars. We are under apprehensions
that the Hancock is taken.

Your obliging letters of the 8th, 10th, and 13th,
came to hand last week. I hope before this time
you are relieved from the anxiety you express for
your bosom friend. I feel my sufferings amply rewarded,
in the tenderness you express for me. But,
in one of your letters, you have drawn a picture
which drew a flood of tears from my eyes, and
wrung my heart with anguish inexpressible. I pray
Heaven, I may not live to realize it.

It is almost thirteen years since we were united,
but not more than half that time have we had the
happiness of living together. The unfeeling world
may consider it in what light they please. I consider
it as a sacrifice to my country, and one of my
greatest misfortunes, to be separated from my children,
at a time of life when the joint instructions and
admonition of parents sink deeper than in maturer
years.

The hope of the smiles and approbation of my
friend sweetens all my toils and labors.