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
shores, 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 shore 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 God!
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 pass 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.