In a letter which came to me to-night you chide yourself for neglecting
to write so frequently as you had done. 'T is true a very long space of
near a fortnight passed without hearing one word from you. I cannot help
feeling anxious when such a space elapses without receiving a line, but
I have no reason to complain. You have, considering your avocations,
been more attentive than I had reason to expect.
"Heaven sure taught letters for some wretch's aid,
Some banished lover or some captive maid."
I have been more fearful than formerly of writing by the post, as I have
never received a letter from you by that conveyance since you left
Philadelphia. Mr. Colman brought me yours of 25 and 26 October. You have
before this time received from me one of the same date, since which I
have not written. I have been too much mortified with a late expedition
to write you any particulars concerning it. Indeed, it was from the
beginning a subject of burlesque, owing, I believe, to the small opinion
most people had of the heroic talents of the commanders. It was called a
secret expedition to Newport. A fortnight before the troops marched,
there were by all accounts as fine a set collected as any spirited
commander could have wished for, and 't is said for twenty days the
island might have been successfully (to all appearance) attacked. The
public are very angry, as well they may be, and demand an inquiry. I
know you will be mortified, because it has been a favorite object with
you, but if you want your arms crowned with victory, you should not
appoint what General Gates calls dreaming Deacons to conduct them.
General Burgoyne and his troops arrived last week in Cambridge. All
seems to be quietness at present. From the southward we get no very
authentic accounts. To-day Howe and his whole army are captives!
To-morrow they have got possession of our forts and weighed the chevaux
de frise.