Philadelphia, 13 April, 1777.
I have spent an hour this morning in the congregation of the dead. I
took a walk into the Potter's Field, a burying ground between the new
stone prison and the hospital, and I never in my whole life was affected
with so much melancholy. The graves of the soldiers who have been buried
in this ground from the hospital and bettering house during the course
of the last summer, fall, and winter, dead of the small-pox and camp
diseases, are enough to make the heart of stone to melt away. The sexton
told me that upwards of two thousand soldiers had been buried there, and
by the appearance of the graves and trenches it is most probable to me
he speaks within bounds. To what causes this plague is to be attributed
I don't know. It seems to me that the want of tents, clothes, soap,
vegetables, vinegar, vaults, etc., cannot account for it all. Oatmeal
and peas are a great preservative of our enemies. Our frying-pans and
gridirons slay more than the sword. Discipline, discipline is the great
thing wanted. There can be no order nor cleanliness in an army without
discipline.
We have at last determined on a plan for the sick, and have called into
the service the best abilities in physic and chirurgery that the
continent affords. I pray God it may have its desired effect, and that
the lives and health of the soldiers may be saved by it. Disease has
destroyed ten men for us where the sword of the enemy has killed one.
Upon my return from my pensive, melancholy walk, I heard a piece of
disagreeable news; that the ship _Morris_, Captain Anderson, from
Nantes, with cannon, arms, gun-locks, powder, etc., was chased into
Delaware Bay by two or three men-of-war; that she defended herself
manfully against their boats and barges, but finding no possibility of
getting clear, she ran aground. The crew and two French gentlemen
passengers got on shore, but the captain, determined to disappoint his
enemy in part, laid a train and blew up the ship, and lost his own life,
unfortunately, in the explosion. I regret the loss of so brave a man
much more than that of the ship and cargo. The people are fishing in
order to save what they can, and I hope they will save the cannon. The
French gentlemen, it is said, have brought dispatches from France to the
Congress. I hope this is true. If it is, I will let you know the
substance of it if I may be permitted to disclose it.