Weymouth,[77] 15 June, 1775.
I sat down to write to you on Monday, but really could not compose
myself sufficiently; the anxiety I suffered from not hearing one
syllable from you for more than five weeks, and the new distress arising
from the arrival of recruits, agitated me more than I have been since
the never-to-be-forgotten 14th of April. I have been much revived by
receiving two letters from you last night; one by the servant of your
friend, and the other by the gentlemen you mention, though they both
went to Cambridge, and I have not seen them. I hope to send this as a
return to you.
I feared much for your health, when you went away. I must entreat you to
be as careful as you can consistently with the duty you owe your
country. That consideration, alone, prevailed with me to consent to your
departure in a time so perilous and so hazardous to your family, and
with a body so infirm as to require the tenderest care and nursing. I
wish you may be supported and divinely assisted in this most important
crisis, when the fate of empire depends upon your wisdom and conduct. I
greatly rejoice to hear of your union and determination to stand by us.
We cannot but consider the great distance you are from us as a very
great misfortune, when our critical situation renders it necessary to
hear from you every week, and will be more and more so, as difficulties
arise. We now expect our seacoast ravaged; perhaps the very next letter
I write will inform you that I am driven away from our yet quiet
cottage. Necessity will oblige Gage to take some desperate steps. We are
told for truth that he is now eight thousand strong. We live in
continual expectation of alarms. Courage I know we have in abundance;
conduct I hope we shall not want; but powder,--where shall we get a
sufficient supply? I wish we may not fail there. Every town is filled
with the distressed inhabitants of Boston. Our house[78] among others is
deserted, and by this time, like enough, made use of as a barrack. Mr.
Bowdoin and his lady are at present in the house of Mrs. Borland, and
are going to Middleborough, to the house of Judge Oliver. He, poor
gentleman, is so low that I apprehend he is hastening to a house not
made with hands; he looks like a mere skeleton, speaks faint and low, is
racked with a violent cough, and, I think, far advanced in a
consumption. I went to see him last Saturday. He is very inquisitive of
every person with regard to the times; begged I would let him know of
the first intelligence I had from you; is very unable to converse by
reason of his cough. He rides every pleasant day, and has been kind
enough to call at the door (though unable to get out) several times. He
says the very name of Hutchinson distresses him. Speaking of him, the
other day, he broke out, "Religious rascal! how I abhor his name!"
Pray be as particular as possible when you write. Everybody wants to
hear and to know what is doing, and what may be communicated do not
fail to inform me of. All our friends desire to be kindly remembered to
you. Gage's proclamation you will receive by this conveyance. All the
records of time cannot produce a blacker page. Satan, when driven from
the regions of bliss, exhibited not more malice. Surely the father of
lies is superseded. Yet we think it the best proclamation he could have
issued.
I shall, whenever I can, receive and entertain, in the best manner I am
capable, the gentlemen who have so generously proffered their services
in our army. Government is wanted in the army and elsewhere. We see the
want of it more from so large a body being together, than when each
individual was employed in his own domestic circle. My best regards
attend every man you esteem. You will make my compliments to Mr. Mifflin
and lady. I do not now wonder at the regard the ladies express for a
soldier. Every man who wears a cockade appears of double the importance
he used to do, and I feel a respect for the lowest subaltern in the
army. You tell me you know not when you shall see me. I never trust
myself long with the terrors which sometimes intrude themselves upon me.
I hope we shall see each other again, and rejoice together in happier
days; the little ones are well, and send duty to papa. Don't fail of
letting me hear from you by every opportunity. Every line is like a
precious relic of the saints.
I have a request to make of you; something like the barrel of sand, I
suppose you will think it, but really of much more importance to me. It
is, that you would send out Mr. Bass, and purchase me a bundle of pins
and put them in your trunk for me. The cry for pins is so great that
what I used to buy for seven shillings and sixpence are now twenty
shillings, and not to be had for that. A bundle contains six thousand,
for which I used to give a dollar; but if you can procure them for fifty
shillings, or three pounds,[79] pray let me have them.