Philadelphia, 12 May, 1776.
Yours of 21 April came to hand yesterday. I send you regularly every
newspaper, and write as often as I can; but I feel more skittish about
writing than I did, because, since the removal of headquarters to New
York, we have no express, and very few individual travellers; and the
post I am not quite confident in; however, I shall write as I can.
What shall I do with my office?[139] I want to resign it for a thousand
reasons. Would you advise me?
There has been a gallant battle in Delaware River between the galleys
and two men-of-war, the _Roebuck_ and _Liverpool_, in which the
men-of-war came off second best; which has diminished, in the minds of
the people on both sides of the river, the terror of a man-of-war.
I long to hear a little of my private affairs; yet I dread it, too,
because I know you must be perplexed and distressed. I wish it was in my
power to relieve you. It gives me great pleasure to learn that our
rulers are, at last, doing something towards the fortification of
Boston. But I am inexpressibly chagrined to find that the enemy is
fortifying on George's Island. I never shall be easy until they are
completely driven out of that harbor, and effectually prevented from
ever getting in again. As you are a politician and now elected into an
important office, that of judgess of the Tory ladies, which will give
you, naturally, an influence with your sex, I hope you will be instant,
in season and out of season, in exhorting them to use their influence
with the gentlemen, to fortify upon George's Island, Lovell's,
Pettick's, Long, or wherever else it is proper. Send down fire ships and
rafts, and burn to ashes those pirates. I am out of patience with the
languid, lethargic councils of the province, at such a critical,
important moment, puzzling their heads about twopenny fees, and
confession bills, and what not, when the harbor of Boston is
defenseless. If I was there, I should storm and thunder like
Demosthenes, or scold like a tooth-drawer. Do ask Mr. Wibird and Mr.
Weld and Mr. Taft to preach about it. I am ashamed, vexed, angry to the
last degree. Our people, by their torpitude, have invited the enemy to
come to Boston again, and I fear they will have the civility and
politeness to accept the invitation.
Your uncle has never answered my letter. Thank the Dr.; he has written
me a most charming letter, full of intelligence and very sensible and
useful remarks. I will pay the debt, as far as my circumstances will
admit, and as soon. But I hope my friends will not wait for regular
returns from me. I have not yet left off pitying "the fifty or sixty
men;" and if my friends knew all that I do, they would pity too.