CHAPTER V

THE OCCUPATION OF BOSTON

Early in May of 1774 Hutchinson, ostensibly called to England to advise

the king, gave up his offices in Massachusetts. His exile was

approaching. Never again was he to see the fair hill of Milton, nor to

look from its top upon the town and harbor that he loved. The Whigs

exulted over the fall of "the damn'd arch traitor;" yet surely, though

as an official he failed in his task, and as a patriot misread the

temper and the capacity of his countrymen, he commands our pity. Amid

the booming of the cannon which welcomed his successor he prepared for

his departure. Except for his pathetic letters and journals he made no

further mark upon his times or ours. His Milton estate remains, but his

house is gone, and the very street that he lived on bears the name of

Adams, his most persistent enemy.

Hutchinson's successor was Thomas Gage, the first governor sent to

Boston with an army at his back. He was well known in the colonies, for

he had fought well at Braddock's defeat, had married an American wife,

and was courteous and affable. It remained to be seen whether one of his

hesitating temperament could meet the situation. With four regiments he

had undertaken to pacify Massachusetts. He had his four regiments and

more, yet he must occasionally have wondered why he found no more signs

of weakness in the ranks of his opponents.

At this time there were in Boston four chief classes of Whigs. The first

were the ministers, and these for many years had been American to the

core. As the first settlers of Massachusetts, whether Puritan or

Pilgrim, had fled away from prelacy, so their spiritual descendants

still hated the name of bishop. In fact, episcopacy in New England was

still weak, and its greater part was concentrated in Boston itself.

Some few of its ministers preached submission; but they either had to

content themselves with Tory congregations, or lost their pulpits, or

had them boarded up against them. The wiser part was taken by most in

avoiding politics. The sole Congregational minister who supported the

king was Mather Byles, famed for his witticisms, and he likewise

declined to bring into the pulpit any mention of the affairs of the day.

"In the first place," he told those who demanded an expression of his

opinion, "I do not understand politics; in the second place you all do,

every man and mother's son of you; in the third place you have politics

all the week, so pray let one day in the seven be devoted to religion;

in the fourth place I am engaged in work of infinitely greater

importance. Give me any subject to preach on of more consequence than

the truth I bring to you, and I will preach on it next Sabbath."[35]

Gage's support from the pulpit was therefore weak, while at the same

time the opposition from the same source was strong. Those country

ministers who were of the political creed of Sam Adams confessed it each

Sabbath, and desisted not on week days from strengthening the wills of

their congregations. More than that, like their predecessors in older

times, many held chaplaincies in the militia, and on training days

turned out, not only to approve by their presence the object of the

drill, but also to stir the spirit of the homespun soldiery by prayers

to the God of Moses, and of Joshua, and of David. Those in Boston, under

the very nose of the general and in the presence of his soldiery, abated

nothing of their zeal, but preached resistance as before. Gage, as he

looked among them for signs of wavering, could have found very little

comfort.

The lawyers next, like the clergymen, had supplied the Whigs much of

their strength. Surely, up to the present the patriot party had been

distinguished by pliancy and persistence. These characteristics had come

from the lawyers, whose rejoinders and remonstrances, petitions,

resolves, and appeals were familiar professional devices. Yet Gage might

have found hope in these men. For the purpose of all their delays had

been compromise, and their hope was the avoidance of bloodshed. The

lawyers had showed, too, a love of fair play; for while they pressed the

Tories hard, they had also taken the lead in protesting against mob

violence. Again, leading Whig lawyers had defended--and acquitted--the

perpetrators of the Massacre. Possibly such men might be made to see

reason.

A more numerous class than the lawyers was made up of the merchants,

small and large. Some few of these men had made their own way in the

world, yet most of them may almost have been said to have held

hereditary positions in the provincial aristocracy. By far the larger

number of them were Whigs, some of considerable estate, others--like

that John Andrews from whose letters I have already quoted and shall

quote more--were men of moderate means, shrewdly working for a

"competency." Gage, looking forward to the enforcement of the Port

Bill, could see that these men would be hard hit. While they had so far

been firm in the colonial cause, the coming temptation to desert their

party would be very strong. Income, security, and the favor of the king

awaited them.

At the end of this series was the largest class of all, the mechanics.

Until now these men had been eager in their demonstrations against

technical oppression--which yet was technical after all. No Boston Whig

had ever known a tithe of the wrongs of the French peasant or the

Russian serf. No laboring class on earth enjoyed or ever had enjoyed

greater freedom or less hampered prosperity. But with the enforcement of

the Port Bill all this would change. Gage hoped, and the Tories

declared, that the mechanics, so soon as pressure was applied, would

"fall away from the faction."

The first results of the new regime were not promising. To begin with,

on the news of the passage of the Port Bill the Committee of

Correspondence of Boston called a meeting of the committees of the

neighboring towns. This meeting scouted the idea of paying for the tea,

and in a circular letter to the other colonies proposed a general

cessation of trade with Great Britain. Similarly the town meeting of

Boston discussed the situation, pronounced against the Port Bill, and

appealed to all the sister colonies, entreating not to be left to suffer

alone. In more homely language the merchants appealed to their friends.

"Yes, Bill," wrote John Andrews to his brother-in-law in Philadelphia,

"nothing will save us but an entire stoppage of trade, both to England

and the West Indies.... The least hesitancy on your part _to the

Southerd_, and the matter is over."

There was little hesitancy. The suggestion made by the Boston Whigs was

taken up, and the maritime towns, which had been expected to take

advantage of Boston's predicament, began to discontinue trade, not

merely with Great Britain, but also with the West Indies. Then Salem,

which was to be the capital in place of Boston, formally repudiated the

idea of profiting by the situation. The news spread to the other

colonies, and they began to act. New York proposed, and the sister

provinces agreed in, a call for "a general Congress." In less than a

month after the coming of the news of the Port Bill, Boston was assured

that the continent would not leave her to suffer alone.

But then, on the first of June, 1774, the Port Bill went into effect. So

literally was it interpreted, that all carriage by boat in the harbor

was forbidden. No owner of a pasture on the harbor islands might bring

his hay to the town; no goods might be brought across any ferry; not

even carriage by water from wharf to wharf in the town was allowed.

Further, while food and fuel, according to the provisions of the act,

might be brought to Boston by water, all vessels carrying them were

forced to go through troublesome formalities. They must report at the

customs in Salem, unload, load again, and receive a clearance for

Boston. Returning, they might carry enough provision to last them only

to Salem. Besides all this, the Commissioners of Customs at Salem

undertook to decide when Boston had enough provisions. The blockade, as

enforced by them and the ships of war in Boston Harbor, was minutely

complete and vexatious.

Yet at their mildest its provisions were complete enough. Trade by sea

with the town was stopped. Consequently, so maritime were the town's

activities, prosperity was instantly checked. All the workers

immediately dependent on the sea for a living, sailors, wharfingers,

longshoremen, and fishermen, were at once thrown out of employment. Then

by a severe interpretation of the act all ship-building was stopped,

since the authorities declared that, on launching, any boat would be

confiscated. The shipyards shut down, the boats ready to launch were

filled with water "for their preservation,"[36] and ship-carpenters,

calkers, rope-makers, and sailmakers were thrown out of work. Much

misery to the unemployed would have been the result but for the

forethought of the patriot leaders.

These men, early realizing the threatened hardship, called for help from

the rest of the country. The response was prompt. "A special chronicle,"

says Bancroft, "could hardly enumerate all the generous deeds." While

Lord North, fresh from an interview with Hutchinson, cheered the king

with the belief that the province would soon submit, South Carolina was

sending a cargo of provisions in a vessel offered for the purpose by the

owner, and sailed without wages by the captain and her crew. Sheep were

driven into Boston from all New England; provisions of every kind were

brought in; wheat was sent by the French in Quebec; money was subscribed

and sent from the more distant points. All supplies thus received were

put in the hands of a donation committee, who distributed the gifts to

the needy.

Yet in spite of such relief as this, and though for a short time

employment was given to workmen by permitting them to finish, launch,

rig, and send away the ships then on the stocks, the situation was hard

at best. It was felt not only by the lower classes, but by the

merchants, whose profits ceased, and by all who depended for their

income on the current trade and activity of the town. Gossipy John

Andrews gives us the situation as it affected him. "If you'll believe me

(though I have got near two thousand sterling out in debts and about as

much more in stock), I have not received above eighty or ninety pounds

Lawful money from both resources for above two months past; though

previous to the port's being shut, I thought it an ordinary day's work

if I did not carry home from twenty to forty dollars every evening." So

little ready money circulated in the town "that really, Bill, I think

myself well off to satisfy the necessary demands of my family, and you

may as well ask a man for the teeth out of his head as to request the

payment of money that he owes you (either in town or country, for we

are alike affected), for you'll be as likely to get the one as the

other."[37]

Now was, indeed, the time to discover the weak points in the cause and

organization of the Americans. Even strong Whigs were at times

discontented, and chiefly among the middle class, without whom the

leaders could have no strong support. Much of the distress of the

shopkeepers and merchants came from the "Solemn League and Covenant"

which, proposed on the first news of the Port Bill, was now in actual

operation. Andrews's case must have been typical of many. He had

countermanded all goods on the news of the Port Bill, and acquiesced in

the non-importation agreement: "but upon y^e measure not being adopted

by the Southern Colonies, I embraced the first opportunity and

re-ordered about one-fourth part of such goods as I thought would be in

most demand, and behold! in about three or four weeks after that, I

heard of y^e amazing progress the non-consumption agreement had made

through y^e country; which, in my opinion, has serv'd rather to create

dissensions among ourselves than to answer any valuable purpose."

Many of the Tories held the same opinion. Could not the waverers, they

asked Gage, be induced to change their political faith, and especially

could not the leaders be tempted?

Among these leaders the influence of Otis was waning. He had always been

eccentric and unreliable, and now his intellect was threatened. An

assault upon him had nearly ruined both his health and his reason. But

his place had been taken by others. Samuel Adams, John Adams, Joseph

Warren, and John Hancock were the men whose names were oftenest

mentioned. Sinister rumors were frequent that Gage had been directed to

seize them and deport them to England. Whether or not more evidence

against them was needed, no arrest was as yet attempted. Instead, in at

least three quarters there was some hope of corruption.

Warren the general left untempted; it is no small tribute to the

patriot's character that there could be no doubt of his integrity.

Warren was not yet thirty-five years old, was of good social position,

had an excellent practice and an assured future. His temperament was

frank and manly, and so enthusiastic as to be fiery. Once already, on

the anniversary of the Massacre in 1772, he had addressed the town

meeting in condemnation of the government measures; on many other

opportunities, before and since, he had either spoken in public or

expressed his opinions through the press. While no advocate of violence,

he was unreservedly a Whig, and nothing could be made of him. So far as

is known, no attempt was made to corrupt him.

The case of John Adams was different, at least to Tory eyes. He was

ambitious: no one who knew him could doubt that he was conscious of his

own ability. Further, he was poor, with a growing family to support; he

was known, with the troubled times which he clearly foresaw, to be

anxious for his children's future. Surely there was a possibility that

Adams might be wise, and be tempted to the safer course; and fortunately

there was at hand an instrument to induce him to become a Tory. Adams

was the close personal friend of Jonathan Sewall, the king's

attorney-general for the province, and an admirable character. The

chance of distinction, the certainty of prosperity, and the

importunities of such a friend, might in the end persuade Adams.

Of John Hancock it was often argued among the Tories that he might

almost be left to himself. If Adams was ambitious, Hancock was more so;

known to be vain, he was believed to be jealous by nature. With these

weaknesses, he was also instinctively an aristocrat. How long, asked the

Tories, would he continue to consort with men of low social position?

How soon would he rebel at being led by the nose by the wily Adams?

Position and influence were ready for him as soon as he chose to go

over to the king. The bait was always plain, and he might be counted on

eventually to take it.

Even Samuel Adams, so reasoned the advisers of Gage, might be bought.

For Adams was poor. In his devotion to public affairs he had let his

business go to ruin, had seen his money melt away, had even sold off

parts of his own house-lot. His sentiments were, no better known in

Boston than his threadbare clothes. His sole income was from his salary

as clerk of the house of representatives, only a hundred pounds a year.

To the new governor it was the most natural thing in the world to

suppose that the discontent of such a man could soon be removed. He

forgot Hutchinson's words: "Such is the obstinacy and inflexible

disposition of the man, that he never would be conciliated by any office

or gift whatever."[38]

Gage sent, therefore, Colonel Fenton to Adams with offers which would

tempt any man that had a price. No definite knowledge of the

inducements has come down to us: money, place, possibly even a patent of

nobility. We know, however, that they were coupled with a threat in the

form of advice to make his peace with the king. And we can imagine Adams

as, rising from his seat, and standing with the habitual nervous tremor

of head and hands which often led his adversaries to mistake his mettle,

he delivered his fearless reply.

"Sir, I trust I have long since made my peace with the King of kings. No

personal consideration shall induce me to abandon the righteous cause of

my country. Tell Governor Gage that it is the advice of Samuel Adams to

him no longer to insult the feelings of an exasperated people!"[39]

And this was in the face of a situation the like of which had never been

known in America. "Notwithstanding which," wrote John Andrews, "there

seems to be ease, contentment, and perfect composure in the countenance

of almost every person you meet in the streets, which conduct very much

perplexes the Governor and others, our lords and masters, that they are

greatly puzzled, and know not what to do or how to act, as they expected

very different behaviour from us."

There is but one explanation of such a state of mind in the Whigs, in

the face of the evidently approaching trial. Their consciences were

clear. This revolution, when finally it came about, was quite within the

spirit of the British Constitution. The Whigs believed they were right,

and had no fear of the consequences. No testimony to their virtues, as

the backbone of a new nation, will speak louder than their present

attitude. External testimony is not hard to quote. "The people of Boston

and Massachusetts Bay," wrote Thomas Hollis but a few weeks before this

time, "are, I suppose, take them as a body, the soberest, most knowing,

virtuous people at this time upon earth." Other English opinion to the

same effect, and French admiration by the chapter, might be quoted. Yet

a truer proof of the quality of the people is to be found in the calm

self-confidence which "very much perplexed" the governor.

One more comment may safely be ventured here. Before two years were over

it was known that Gage, and perhaps even Hutchinson during his

administration, had had the most complete information of the secret

doings of the Whig leaders. In fact, even the deliberations of the

workmen's caucuses must have been known to Gage. That no arrests were

made can mean but one thing: that the Whigs were honest in their

endeavor to work their ends by legal means. Samuel Adams may have

foreseen the eventual outcome, and knowing it to be inevitable may have

striven to make it speedy and complete. But there was no general scheme

for independence, no plot for a revolt. "The Father of the Revolution"

laid his plans in silence, and waited for the ripening of the times.

Gage and his advisers, "greatly puzzled," also watched the crystallizing

of opinion. Of the temper of the Bostonians, although oppressed by the

Port Bill, there could presently be no doubt. Emboldened by the presence

of troops in the town, the Tories called town meetings, first to resolve

to pay for the tea, and then to dismiss the Committee of Correspondence.

These two actions, if taken, would have totally changed the situation.

The meetings were crowded, every courtesy was shown the Tories, and in

the second meeting, since Adams was absent, the Whigs had to be content

with the leadership of Warren. But there was no hesitation in either

case. The first meeting rejected the proposal to pay for the tea. In the

second the discretion of Warren proved equal to his zeal, his management

of the meeting was perfect, and the vote upheld the Committee of

Correspondence by a large majority.

The next action explains the absence of Adams from Boston at such an

important time. According to the new laws, the Assembly met at Salem,

under the eye of the governor and in the presence of his troops. Gage

knew very well that a call had been sent throughout the colonies for an

election of delegates to a general Congress which should deliberate on

the present situation. He had no intention that delegates should be

elected from Massachusetts. He had partisans in the Assembly, and an

informant on the committee to introduce legislation. Every move was

reported to him. Never did Sam Adams dissemble more cleverly. So dull

and spiritless did public matters seem, that Gage's informant thought it

safe to go home on private business. Then Adams acted. Quietly laying

his plans, on the morning of the seventeenth of June, 1774, he locked

the door of the chamber and proposed that the Assembly elect delegates

to the Continental Congress. A Tory pleaded sickness and hurried to Gage

with the news; but the door was again locked, and the business

proceeded. Though the governor sent his secretary with a message

dissolving the Assembly, the secretary knocked in vain. The doors were

not opened until delegates had been elected to the Congress, a tax laid

to pay their expenses, and resolutions passed exhorting the province to

stand firm.

One of the delegates-elect was John Adams. For years he had declined to

hold public office, and had even avoided town meetings. There was now a

natural Tory hope that he might refuse this office; there was even a

last chance to wean him from the Whig cause, for he was presently to

ride on circuit, and there would meet his friend Sewall. When the two

met, the Tory reasoned earnestly, pointing out the irresistible power of

Great Britain. But Adams was ready with his answer. "Sink or swim, live

or die, survive or perish with my country is my unalterable

determination."[40] And so went another hope of the Tories.

The summer of 1774 wore along, with no improvement in the situation.

Rather it became worse. So much time had elapsed without definite news

of the passing of the Regulating Act, that there was hope that the

measure had failed. But early in August came news of its passage, and

with it a list of appointments for the new Council. The appointees were

all chosen from among the Tories, or from those inclined to the king's

side. "It is apprehended," wrote Andrews, "that most of 'em will

accept."

Now at last it was natural to suppose that the Whigs had come to the end

of their resources. Their Assembly was dissolved, a Tory held each

appointive position, Boston was filled with soldiers, and the harbor was

guarded by ships of war. Active opposition to the troops would have been

madness, and it seemed impossible to conduct even the ordinary business

of the town, for now town meetings might legally be called only for the

purpose of electing officers. Yet when Gage called the selectmen before

him, and graciously indicated his willingness to allow meetings for

certain harmless purposes, the reply surprised him. There was no need,

said the selectmen, to ask his permission for a meeting: they had one

in existence already. In fact they had two, the May meeting and the June

meeting, each legally called before the enforcement of the Regulating

Act, and each legally "adjourned" until such time as it was needed. The

technical subterfuge was too much for Gage, and the adjournments

continued in spite of the law.

As the Massachusetts delegates prepared for their journey to

Philadelphia, where the Congress was to be held, there occurred, if we

can believe the story told by John Andrews--it was certainly believed in

Boston at the time--a demonstration of affection for Samuel Adams. "For

not long since some persons (their names unknown) sent and ask'd his

permission to build him a new barn, the old one being decay'd, which was

executed in a few days. A second sent to ask leave to repair his house,

which was thoroughly effected soon. A third sent to beg the favor of him

to call at a taylor's shop and be measur'd for a suit of cloaths and

chuse his cloth, which were finish'd and sent home for his acceptance.

A fourth presented him with a new whig,[41] a fifth with a new Hatt, a

sixth with a pair of the best silk hose, a seventh with six pair of fine

thread ditto, a eighth with six pair shoes, and a ninth modestly

inquired of him whether his finances want rather low than otherways. He

reply'd it was true that was the case, but he was very indifferent about

these matters, so that his _poor_ abilities was of any service to the

Publick; upon which the Gentleman obliged him to accept of a purse

containing about 15 or 20 Johannes." It is possible that these

attentions to Adams grew out of the desire that he, so well known in

Boston that his shabbiness meant nothing, should appear well at the

Congress, where his dress might prejudice others against him. True or

not, this little story has its significance, for, says Andrews to his

correspondent, "I mention this to show you how much he is esteem'd here.

They value him for his _good_ sense, _great_ abilities, _amazing_

fortitude, _noble_ resolution, and _undaunted_ courage: being firm and

unmov'd at all the various reports that were propagated in regard to his

being taken up and sent home,[42] notwithstanding he had repeated

letters from his _friends_, both in England as well as here, to keep out

of the way."

If the governor desired to arrest Adams, he had plenty of opportunity.

There was even a public occasion to take all the delegates together,

when they left the town on their way to Philadelphia. "A very

respectable parade," wrote Andrews, "in sight of five of the Regiments

encamp'd on the Common, being in a coach and four, preceded by two white

servants well mounted and arm'd, with four blacks behind in livery, two

on horseback and two footmen." Perhaps Gage breathed a sigh of relief

with the "brace of Adamses" away, but his real troubles were only

beginning.

Massachusetts would have nothing to do with the newly appointed

officers. The thirty-six councillors, appointed under writ of mandamus,

excited the most indignation. Of the Boston nominees thirteen accepted,

two declined, and four took time to consider; throughout the province

the proportion was about the same. But those who wavered and those who

accepted presently heard from their neighbors. Leonard of Taunton,

hearing of a surprise party mustering from the neighboring towns,

departed hastily for Boston. His father, by promises that he would urge

his son to resign, with difficulty prevailed on the disgusted neighbors

to leave the councillor's property unharmed. In Worcester, Timothy Paine

was taken to the common, and, in the presence of two thousand standing

in military order, he read his declination of his appointment. Ruggles

of Hardwick was warned not to return home; his neighbors swore that he

should never pass the great bridge of the town alive. Murray of Rutland,

like Leonard of Taunton, escaped the attentions of his townspeople, who

scorned the threat of confiscation and death, and demanded his

resignation. "This," wrote his brother to him, "is not the language of

the common people only: those that have heretofore sustained the fairest

character are the warmest in this matter; and, among the many friends

you have heretofore had, I can scarcely mention any to you now."

The people did not always act with violence, but the compulsion which

they put upon their fellow-townsmen was strong. Watson of Plymouth, long

respected in the town, had been appointed by the king to the Council,

and had intended to accept. But when he appeared in church on the

following Sunday, his friends rose and left the meeting-house. In the

face of their scorn he bowed his head over his cane, and resolved to

resign.[43]

More than twenty of the thirty-six councillors either declined their

appointment, or resigned. The rest could find no safety except in

Boston, under the protection of the troops. Even the courts were

prevented from sitting, in one case by the ingenious method of packing

the court-room so solidly with spectators that judge and sheriff could

not enter. Only among the garrison at Boston was there comfort for the

Tory officials.

Boston itself was troublesome enough. When Gage, regarding himself as

"personally affronted" by John Hancock,[44] removed him from command of

the Cadets, the company sent a deputation to Salem and returned him

their standard, declining longer to keep up their customary service as

the governor's body-guard. The governor, vexed, replied that had he

previously known of their intentions, he would have dismissed them

himself.

The town meetings troubled him also. Salem held one under his nose, in

spite of a feint to interrupt them by the soldiers. When he summoned the

committee of correspondence of the town to answer for the meeting, they

were stubborn and defiant, refused to give bail when arrested, and were

consequently--released! Other towns held meetings to elect delegates to

a county convention, and the governor was powerless to stop them.

Although he had many more troops than the four regiments with which he

first declared that he could do so much, he felt his helplessness, and,

cursing the town meetings, waited for more soldiers. He summoned the

remnant of his council to meet in Salem; but the members were afraid to

come, and, departing from his orders, he allowed them to sit in Boston.

And now, as the weeks passed on, even Boston was rumbling with the

thunder of the coming storm. Israel Putnam, having driven to Boston a

flock of sheep, the gift to the poor of Boston from his Connecticut

town, became the lion of the day. Meeting on the Common some of his old

friends in the regular army, they chaffed him on the military situation.

Twenty ships and twenty regiments, they told him, were to be expected if

the country did not submit. "If they come," returned the stanch old

Indian fighter, "I am ready to treat them as enemies."

At length the forms of law failed even in Boston. When the judges

summoned a jury, it not only refused to take oath, but presented a

written protest against the authority on which the court acted. The

judges gave up the attempt in despair, and the governor and his advisers

thought that matters were come to a pretty pass when a mere petit juror

could declare "that his conscience would not let him take oath whiles

Peter Oliver set upon the bench."[45] There was apparently no punishment

to meet such obduracy.

But at last news came to Gage on which he felt compelled to act. Much

powder had been stored in the magazine at Quarry Hill in Charlestown. He

was informed that during August the towns had removed their stock, until

there remained only that which belonged to the province. This stock Gage

determined to secure against possible illegal seizure, by seizing it

himself. On the morning of the first of September, by early daylight,

detachments of troops in boats took the powder to the Castle, and also

secured two cannon from Cambridge. Rumors of violence and bloodshed

spread rapidly, and by nightfall half of New England was in motion,

marching toward Boston.

FOOTNOTES:

[35] Sabine's "Loyalists," 190.

[36] Andrews Letters.

[37] The Andrews Letters, as already noted, are in the Massachusetts

Historical Society's Proceedings for the volume of 1864-1865. I shall

refer to them frequently without quoting pages.

[38] Wells, "Life of Adams," ii, 193.

[39] Wells, "Adams," ii, 193.

[40] Bancroft, edition of 1876, iv, 344. Subsequent references to

Bancroft will be to this edition.

[41] Sic!

[42] Note the use of the word, as meaning England.

[43] I take these facts from Bancroft and the Andrews Letters.

[44] Hancock seems to have practised upon Gage the subterfuge which he

afterwards used with Washington, pretending to be too ill to wait upon

him.

[45] Andrews Letters.

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