Tuesday Morning. I went to bed about twelve, and rose again a little after one. I could no more sleep, than if I had been in the engagement; the rattling of the windows, the jar of the house, the continual roar of twenty-four pounders, and the bursting of shells, give us such ideas, and realize a scene to us of which we could form scarcely any conception. About six, this morning, there was quiet. I rejoiced in a few hours' calm. I hear we got possession of Dorchester hill last night; four thousand men upon it to-day; lost but one man. The ships are all drawn round the town. To-night we shall realize a more terrible scene still. I sometimes think I cannot stand it. I wish myself with you, out of hearing, as I cannot assist them. I hope to give you joy of Boston, even if it is in ruins, before I send this away. I am too much agitated to write as I ought, and languid for want of rest. Thursday. Fast-day. All my anxiety and distress is at present at an end. I feel disappointed. This day our militia are all returning without effecting any thing more than taking possession of Dorchester hill. I hope it is wise and just, but, from all the muster and stir, I hoped and expected more important and decisive scenes. I would not have suffered all I have for two such hills. Ever since the taking of that, we have had a perfect calm: nor can I learn yet, what effect it has had in Boston. I do not hear of one person's escaping since. I was very much pleased with your choice of a committee for Canada. All those to whom I have ventured to show that part of your letter, approve the scheme of the priest, as a master-stroke of policy.' I feel sorry, that General Lee has left us, but his presence at New York was no doubt of great importance, as we have reason to think it prevented Clinton from landing and gathering together such a nest of vermin, as would at least have distressed us greatly. But how can you spare him from here? Can you make his place good? Can you supply it with a man equally qualified to save us? How do the Virginians relish the troops said to be destined for them? Are they putting themselves into a state of defence? I cannot bear to think of your continuing in a state of supineness this winter. "There is a tide in the affairs of men, Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; Omitted, all the voyage of their life Is bound in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat; And we must take the current when it serves, Or lose our ventures." The members chosen on the committee were Dr. Franklin, Mr. Samuel Chase, and Mr. Charles Carroll, of Carrollton. At the same time it was "Resolved, That Mr. Carroll be requested to prevail on Mr. John Carroll to accompany the committee to Canada, to assist them in such matters as they shall think useful."— Journal of Congress, February 15th, 1776. Sunday Evening. I had scarcely finished these lines when my ears were again assaulted by the roar of cannon. I could not write any further. My hand and heart will tremble at this "domestic fury and fierce civil strife," which "cumber all "our "parts"; though "blood and destruction" are 66 so much in use,' "" and dreadful objects so familiar," yet is not "pity choked," nor my heart grown callous. I feel for the unhappy wretches, who know not where to fly for safety. I feel still more for my bleeding countrymen, who are hazarding their lives and their limbs. A most terrible and incessant cannonade from half after eight till six this morning. I hear we lost four men killed, and some wounded, in attempting to take the hill nearest the town, called Nook's Hill. We did some work, but the fire from the ships beat off our men, so that they did not secure it, but retired to the fort upon the other hill. I have not got all the particulars; I wish I had; but, as I have an opportunity of sending this, I shall endeavour to be more particular in my next. If there are reinforcements here, I believe we shall be driven from the seacoast; but, in whatever state I will endeavour to be therewith content. I am, "Man wants but little here below, Nor wants that little long." You will excuse this very incorrect letter. You see in what perturbation it has been written, and how many times I have left off. Adieu. Yours. TO JOHN ADAMS. Braintree, 7 April, 1776. I HAVE received all the papers you sent, the oration and the magazines. In the small papers I sometimes find pieces begun and continued, (for instance, Johnston's speech,) but am so unlucky as not to get the papers in order, and miss of seeing the whole. The removal of the army seems to have stopped the current of news. I want to know to what part of America they are now wandering. It is reported and credited, that Manly has taken a schooner belonging to the fleet, richly laden with money, plate, and English goods, with a number of Tories. The particulars I have not yet learned. Yesterday the remains of our worthy General Warren were dug up upon Bunker's hill, and carried into town, and on Monday are to be interred, with all the honors of war. 10 April. The Doctor was buried on Monday; the masons walking in procession from the Statehouse, with the military in uniforms, and a large concourse of people attending. He was carried into the Chapel, and there a funeral dirge was played, an excellent prayer by Dr. Cooper, and an oration by Mr. Morton, which I hope will be printed. I think the subject must have inspired him. A young fellow could not have wished a finer opportunity to display his talents. The amiable and heroic virtues of the deceased, recent in the minds of the audience; the noble cause to which he fell a martyr; their own sufferings and unparalleled injuries, all fresh in their minds, must have given weight and energy to whatever could be delivered upon the occasion. The dead body, like that of Cæsar, before their eyes, whilst each wound, "like dumb mouths, did ope their ruby lips, 11 April. I take my pen and write just as I can get time; my letters will be a strange mixture. I really am "cumbered about many things," and scarcely know which way to turn myself. I miss my partner, and find myself unequal to the cares which fall upon me. I find it necessary to be the directress of our husbandry. I hope in time to have the reputation of being as good a farmeress, as my partner has of being a good statesman. To ask you any thing about your return, would, I suppose, be asking a question which you cannot answer. 1 The quotations from Shakspeare's " Julius Cæsar," so frequently to be met with in this and the preceding letter, betray as strongly the historical precedents to which the mind of the writer at this time inclined, as the signature which she assumed. |