Thus far I wrote, and broke off; hearing there was a probability of your
return I thought not to send it; but the reception of yours this
morning, of July 23d, makes me think the day further off than I hoped. I
therefore will add a few lines, though very unfit. I went out yesterday
to attend the funeral of the poor fellow who, the night before, fell in
battle, as they were returning from the Lighthouse. I caught some cold.
Sabbath evening there was a warm fire from Prospect Hill and Bunker's
Hill, begun first by the riflemen taking off their guard. Two men upon
our side were killed; five of their guards were killed, two taken. I
believe my account will be very confused, but I will relate it as well
as I am able.[96] Sabbath evening a number of men, in whaleboats, went
off from Squantum and Dorchester to the Lighthouse, where the General,
Gage, had again fixed up a lamp, and sent twelve carpenters to repair
it. Our people went on amidst a hot fire from thirty marines, who were
placed there as a guard to the Tory carpenters, burnt the
dwelling-house, took the Tories and twenty-eight marines, killed the
lieutenant and one man, brought off all the oil and stores which were
sent, without the loss of a man, until they were upon their return, when
they were so closely pursued that they were obliged to run one whaleboat
ashore, and leave her to them; the rest arrived safe, except the unhappy
youth whose funeral I yesterday attended, who received a ball through
the temple as he was rowing the boat. He belonged to Rhode Island. His
name was Griffin. He, with four wounded marines, was brought by Captain
Turner to Germantown, and buried from there with the honors of war. Mr.
Wibird, upon the occasion, made the best oration (he never prays, you
know) I ever heard from him. The poor wounded fellows (who were all
wounded in their arms) desired they might attend. They did, and he very
pathetically addressed them, with which they appeared affected. I spoke
with them,--I told them it was very unhappy that they should be obliged
to fight their best friends. They said they were sorry; they hoped in
God an end would be speedily put to the unhappy contest; when they came,
they came in the way of their duty, to relieve Admiral Montague, with no
thought of fighting, but their situation was such as obliged them to
obey orders; but they wished, with all their souls, that they that sent
them here had been in the heat of the battle; expressed gratitude at the
kindness they received; and said, in that they had been deceived, for
they were told, if they were taken alive they would be sacrificed by us.
Dr. Tufts dressed their wounds.
I had a design to write something about a talked-of appointment of a
friend of mine to a judicial department,[97] but hope soon to see that
friend before his acceptance may be necessary. I inclose a compliment,
copied by a gentleman from a piece in the Worcester paper, signed
"Lycurgus."
I can add no more, as the good Colonel Palmer waits. Only my compliments
to Mrs. Mifflin, and tell her I do not know whether her husband is safe
here. Bellona and Cupid have a contest about him. You hear nothing from
the ladies but about Major Mifflin's easy address, politeness,
complaisance, etc. 'T is well he has so agreeable a lady at
Philadelphia. They know nothing about forts, intrenchments, etc., when
they return; or, if they do, they are all forgotten and swallowed up in
his accomplishments.