Braintree, 12 November, 1775.
I received yours of 23d October. I want to hear from you every day, and
I always feel sorry when I come to the close of a letter. Your time must
be greatly engrossed--but little of it to spare to the calls of private
friendship, and I have reason to think I have the largest share of it.
Winter makes its approaches fast. I hope I shall not be obliged to spend
it without my dearest friend. I know not how to think of it.
The intelligence[115] you will receive before this reaches you will, I
should think, make a plain path, though a dangerous one, for you. I
could not join to-day in the petitions of our worthy pastor, for a
reconciliation between our no longer parent state, but tyrant state, and
these colonies. Let us separate; they are unworthy to be our brethren.
Let us renounce them; and instead of supplications, as formerly, for
their prosperity and happiness, let us beseech the Almighty to blast
their counsels and bring to nought all their devices.
I have nothing remarkable to write you. A little skirmish happened last
week. The particulars I have endeavored to collect, but whether I have
the facts right, I am not certain. A number of cattle were kept at
Lechmere's Point, where two sentinels were placed. In a high tide it is
an island. The regulars had observed this, and a scheme was laid to send
a number of them over and take off the stock. Accordingly, a number of
boats and about four hundred men were sent. They landed, it seems,
unperceived by the sentinels, who were asleep; one of whom they killed,
and took the other prisoner. As soon as they were perceived, they fired
the cannon from Prospect Hill upon them, which sunk one of their boats;
but, as the tide was very high, it was difficult getting over, and some
time before any alarm was given. A Colonel Thompson, of the riflemen,
marched instantly with his men; and, though a very stormy day, they
regarded not the tide nor waited for boats, but marched over neck-high
in water, and discharged their pieces, when the regulars ran, without
waiting to get off their stock, and made the best of their way to the
opposite shore.[116] The General sent his thanks in a public manner to
the brave officer and his men. Major Mifflin, I hear, was there, and
flew about as though he would have raised the whole army. May they never
find us deficient in courage and spirit.
Dr. Franklin invited me to spend the winter in Philadelphia. I shall
wish to be there unless you return. I have been like a nun in a
cloister, ever since you went away, and have not been into any other
house than my father's and sister's, except once to Colonel Quincy's.
Indeed, I have no inclination for company. My evenings are lonesome and
melancholy. In the daytime family affairs take off my attention, but the
evenings are spent with my departed parent. I then ruminate upon all her
care and tenderness, and am sometimes lost and absorbed in a flood of
tenderness ere I am aware of it, or can call to my aid my only prop and
support. I must bid you adieu; 't is late at night.
Most affectionately yours.