87. ABIGAIL ADAMS.
B----e, 16 March, 1776.
I last evening received yours of March 8.[128] I was in continual expectation that some important event would take place to give me a subject worth writing upon. Before this reaches you, I imagine you will have received two letters from me; the last I closed this day week.
Since that time there have been some movements amongst the ministerial troops, as if they meant to evacuate the town of Boston. Between seventy and eighty vessels of various sizes are gone down, and lie in a row in fair sight of this place, all of which appear to be loaded; and by what can be collected from our own observations, and from deserters, they have been plundering the town. I have been very faithless with regard to their quitting Boston, and know not how to account for it; nor am I yet satisfied that they will leave it, though it seems to be the prevailing opinion of most people.
We are obliged to place the militia upon guard every night upon the sh.o.r.es, through fear of an invasion. There has been no firing since last Tuesday till about twelve o"clock last night, when I was waked out of my sleep with a smart cannonade, which continued till nine o"clock this morning, and prevented any further repose for me. The occasion I have not yet heard; but before I close this letter I may be able to give you some account of it.
By the accounts in the public papers, the plot thickens, and some very important crisis seems near at hand. Perhaps Providence sees it necessary, in order to answer important ends and designs, that the seat of war should be changed from this to the southern colonies, that each may have a proper sympathy with the other, and unite in a separation.
The refuge of the believer, amidst all the afflictive dispensations of Providence, is that the Lord reigneth, and that He can restrain the arm of man.
Orders are given to our army to hold themselves in readiness to march at a moment"s warning. "I"ll meet you at Philippi," said the ghost of Caesar to Brutus.
Sunday Noon.
Being quite sick with a violent cold, I have tarried at home to-day. I find the firing was occasioned by our people"s taking possession of Nook"s Hill, which they kept in spite of the cannonade, and which has really obliged our enemy to decamp this morning on board the transports, as I hear by a messenger just come from headquarters. Some of the selectmen have been to the lines, and inform that they have carried away everything they could possibly take; and what they could not, they have burnt, broke, or hove into the water. This is, I believe, fact; many articles of good household furniture having in the course of the week come on sh.o.r.e at Great Hill, both upon this and Weymouth side,--lids of desks, mahogany chairs, tables, etc. Our people, I hear, will have liberty to enter Boston,--those who have had the small-pox.
The enemy have not yet come under sail. I cannot help suspecting some design, which we do not yet comprehend. To what quarter of the world they are bound is wholly unknown; but "t is generally thought to New York. Many people are elated with their quitting Boston. I confess I do not feel so. "T is only lifting the burden from one shoulder to the other, which is perhaps less able or less willing to support it. To what a contemptible situation are the troops of Britain reduced! I feel glad, however, that Boston is not destroyed. I hope it will be so secured and guarded as to baffle all future attempts against it. I hear that General Howe said, upon going on some eminence in town to view our troops, who had taken Dorchester Hill, unperceived by them till sunrise, "My G.o.d!
these fellows have done more work in one night than I could make my army do in three months." And he might well say so; for in one night two forts and long breast-works were sprung up, besides several barracks.
Three hundred and seventy teams were employed, most of which went three loads in the night, besides four thousand men, who worked with good hearts.
From Penn"s Hill we have a view of the largest fleet ever seen in America. You may count upwards of a hundred and seventy sail. They look like a forest. It was very lucky for us that we got possession of Nook"s Hill. They had placed their cannon so as to fire upon the top of the hill, where they had observed our people marking out the ground; but it was only to elude them; for they began lower upon the hill and nearer the town. It was a very dark, foggy evening, and they had possession of the hill six hours before a gun was fired; and when they did fire, they overshot our people, so that they were covered before morning, and not one man lost, which the enemy no sooner discovered, than Bunker Hill was abandoned, and every man decamped as soon as he could. They found they should not be able to get away if we once got our cannon mounted. Our General may say with Caesar, "_Veni, vidi, vici_."
What effect does the expectation of Commissioners have with you? Are they held in disdain as they are here? It is come to that pa.s.s now, that the longest sword must decide the contest; and the sword is less dreaded here than the Commissioners.
You mention threats upon B----d. I know of none, nor ever heard of any till you mentioned them. The Tories look a little crestfallen. As for Cleverly, he looks like the knight of the woful countenance. I hear all the mongrel breed are left in Boston, and our people who were prisoners are put in irons and carried off.
I made a mistake in the name of the grammar. It is Jaudon"s instead of Took"s. I wish you could purchase Lord Chesterfield"s Letters. I have lately heard them very highly spoken of. I smiled at your couplet of Latin. Your daughter may be able in time to construe it, as she has already made some considerable proficiency in her accidence; but her mamma was obliged to get it translated. Pray write Lord Stirling"s character.
I want to know whether you live in any harmony with ----, and how you settled matters. I think he seems in better humor.[129]
I think I do not admire the speech from the rostrum.[129] "T is a heavy, inelegant, verbose performance, and did not strike my fancy at all. I am very saucy, I suppose you will say. "T is a liberty I take with you.
Indulgence is apt to spoil one. Adieu.
P. S. Pray convey me a little paper. I have but enough for one letter more.
Monday Morning.
A fine, quiet night. No alarms--no cannon. The more I think of our enemies quitting Boston, the more amazed I am that they should leave such a harbor, such fortifications, such intrenchments, and that we should be in peaceable possession of a town which we expected would cost us a river of blood, without one drop shed. Surely it is the Lord"s doings, and it is marvelous in our eyes. Every foot of ground which they obtain now they must fight for, and may they purchase it at a Bunker Hill price.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 128: This letter has not been preserved.]
[Footnote 129: It is difficult to understand these allusions. Probably the first refers to R. T. Paine, who bore no good-will to Mr. Adams; the second, to a funeral oration on the death of General Montgomery, just delivered before the Congress by Dr. Smith, Provost of the college at Philadelphia.]
88. JOHN ADAMS.
Philadelphia, 17 March, 1776.
Our worthy friend, Frank Dana, arrived here last evening from New York, to which place he came lately from England in the packet. In company with him is a gentleman by the name of Wrixon, who has been a field-officer in the British army, served all the last war in Germany, and has seen service in every part of Europe. He left the army some time ago, and studied law in the Temple, in which science he made a great proficiency. He wrote, lately, a pamphlet under the t.i.tle of "The Rights of Britons," which he has brought over with him. He is a friend of liberty, and thinks justly of the American question. He has great abilities, as well as experience in the military science, and is an able engineer. I hope we shall employ him.
The Baron de Woedtke we have made a Brigadier-general, and ordered him to Canada. The testimonials in his favor I shall inclose to you.[130]
Mr. Dana"s account, with which Mr. Wrixon"s agrees, ought to extinguish, in every mind, all hopes of reconciliation with Great Britain. This delusive hope has done us great injuries, and, if ever we are ruined, will be the cause of our fall. A hankering after the leeks of Egypt makes us forget the cruelty of her task-masters.
I shall suffer many severe pains on your account for some days. By a vessel from Salem a cannonade was heard from dark till nine o"clock, last night was a week ago. Your vicinity to such scenes of carnage and desolation as, I fear, are now to be seen in Boston and its environs, will throw you into much distress, but I believe in my conscience, I feel more here than you do. The sound of cannon was not so terrible when I was at Braintree as it is here, though I hear it at four hundred miles distance.
You can"t imagine what a mortification I sustain in not having received a single line from you since we parted. I suspect some villainy in conveyance. By the relation of Mr. Dana, Mr. Wrixon, and Mr. Temple, Mr.
Hutchinson, Mr. Sewall, and their a.s.sociates are in great disgrace in England. Persons are ashamed to be seen to speak to them. They look despised and sunk.
I shall inclose an extract of a letter from Mons. Dubourg in Paris, and a testimonial in favor of our Prussian General. Adieu.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 130: Neither Major Wrixon nor the Baron de Woedtke fulfilled the hopes formed of them. The former declined his appointment, the rank of colonel not being equal to his expectations. The latter proved intemperate and was soon afterwards drowned at Lake George.]
89. JOHN ADAMS.
Philadelphia, 19 March.
Yesterday I had the long expected and much wished pleasure of a letter from you, of various dates from the 2d to the 10th March. This is the first line I have received since I left you. I wrote you from Watertown, I believe, relating my feast at the Quartermaster-general"s with the Caghnawaga Indians, and from Framingham an account of the ordnance there, and from New York I sent you a pamphlet. Hope you received these.
Since I arrived here I have written to you as often as I could.
I am much pleased with your caution in your letter, in avoiding names both of persons and places, or any other circ.u.mstances which might designate to strangers the writer, or the person written to, or the persons mentioned. Characters and description will do as well.
The lie which you say occasioned such disputes at the tavern was curious enough. Who could make and spread it? I am much obliged to an uncle for his friendship. My worthy fellow-citizens may be easy about me. I never can forsake what I take to be their interests. My own have never been considered by me in compet.i.tion with theirs. My ease, my domestic happiness, my rural pleasures, my little property, my personal liberty, my reputation, my life, have little weight and ever had in my own estimation, in comparison with the great object of my country. I can say of it with sincerity, as Horace says of virtue, "To America only and her friends a friend."
You ask what is thought of "Common Sense." Sensible men think there are some whims, some sophisms, some artful addresses to superst.i.tious notions, some keen attempts upon the pa.s.sions, in this pamphlet. But all agree there is a great deal of good sense delivered in clear, simple, concise, and nervous style. His sentiments of the abilities of America, and of the difficulty of a reconciliation with Great Britain, are generally approved. But his notions and plans of continental government are not much applauded. Indeed, this writer has a better hand in pulling down than building. It has been very generally propagated through the continent that I wrote this pamphlet. But although I could not have written anything in so manly and striking a style, I flatter myself I should have made a more respectable figure as an architect, if I had undertaken such a work. This writer seems to have very inadequate ideas of what is proper and necessary to be done in order to form const.i.tutions for single colonies, as well as a great model of union for the whole.
Your distresses, which you have painted in such lively colors, I feel in every line as I read. I dare not write all that I think upon this occasion. I wish our people had taken possession of Nook"s Hill at the same time when they got the other heights, and before the militia was dismissed.
Poor cousin! I pity him. How much soever he may lament certain letters,[131] I don"t lament. I never repent of what was no sin.
Misfortunes may be borne without whining. But if I can believe Mr.
Dana, those letters were much admired in England. I can"t help laughing when I write it, because they were really such hasty, crude sc.r.a.ps. If I could have foreseen their fate, they should have been fit to be seen, and worth all the noise they have made. Mr. Dana says they were considered in England as containing a comprehensive idea of what was necessary to be done, and as showing resolution enough to do it.
Wretched stuff as they really were, according to him they have contributed somewhat towards making certain persons to be thought the greatest statesmen in the world. So much for vanity.