Part 30

Our army is at Wilmington. We have many officers out reconnoitering the country and the enemy. Our scouting parties have taken between thirty and forty prisoners, and twelve deserters are come in from the fleet and eight from the army. They say the men are generally healthy, but their horses have suffered much from the voyage. These prisoners and deserters are unable to give any other intelligence. The enemy give out that they are eighteen thousand strong. But these are like Burgoyne's "make believes" and "insinuations." We know better, and that they have not ten thousand. The militia from four States are joining General Washington in large numbers. The plan of their military operations this campaign is well calculated for our advantage. I hope we shall have heads and hearts to improve it.

For my own part I feel a secret wish that they might get into this city, because I think it more for our interest that they should be cooped up here than that they should run away again to New York. But according to present appearances they will not be able to get here. By going into the Chesapeake Bay they have betrayed a dread of the fire-works in the river Delaware, which indeed are formidable. They must make the most of their time, for they cannot rationally depend upon so fine a season late in the fall and early in winter as they had the last year. September, October, and November are all that remain.

We expect, hourly, advices from Gates and Arnold. We have rumors of an expedition to Long Island under Parsons, and another to Staten Island under Sullivan, but no regular accounts. I suppose it certain that such expeditions have been made, but know not the success.

207. JOHN ADAMS.

Philadelphia, Monday, 1 September, 1777.

We have now run through the summer, and although the weather is still warm, the fiercest of the heat is over. And although the extreme intemperance of the late season has weakened and exhausted me much, yet I think, upon the whole, I have got through it as well as upon any former occasion.

A letter from General Washington, dated Saturday, informs that our light parties have brought in four-and-twenty prisoners more. So that the prisoners and deserters since Mr. Howe landed are near a hundred. The question now is, whether there will be a general engagement. In the first place, I think after all that has passed, it is not good policy for us to attack them, unless we can get a favorable advantage of them in the situation of the ground, or an opportunity to attack a detachment of their army with superior numbers. It would be imprudent, perhaps, for us with our whole force to attack them with all theirs.

But another question arises, whether Mr. Howe will not be able to compel us to a general engagement. Perhaps he may; but I make a question of it. Washington will manoeuvre it with him a good deal to avoid it. A general engagement, in which Howe should be defeated, would be ruin to him. If we should be defeated, his army would be crippled, and perhaps we might suddenly reinforce our army, which he could not. However, all that he could gain by a victory would be the possession of this town, which would be the worst situation he could be in, because it would employ his whole force by sea and land to keep it and the command of the river.

Their principal dependence is not upon their arms, I believe, so much as upon the failure of our revenue. They think they have taken such measures, by circulating counterfeit bills, to depreciate the currency, that it cannot hold its credit longer than this campaign. But they are mistaken.

We, however, must disappoint them by renouncing all luxuries, and by a severe economy. General Washington sets a fine example. He has banished wine from his table, and entertains his friends with rum and water. This is much to the honor of his wisdom, his policy, and his patriotism. And the example must be followed by banishing sugar and all imported articles from our families. If necessity should reduce us to a simplicity of dress and diet becoming republicans, it would be a happy and glorious necessity.

Yours, yours, yours.

208. JOHN ADAMS.

Philadelphia, Tuesday, 2 September, 1777.

I had, yesterday, the pleasure of yours of----, from Boston, and am happy to find that you have been able to do so well amidst all your difficulties. There is but one course for us to take, and that is to renounce the use of all foreign commodities. For my own part, I never lived in my whole life so meanly and poorly as I do now, and yet my constituents will growl at my extravagance. Happy should I be indeed, if I could share with you in the produce of your little farm. Milk, and apples, and pork, and beef, and the fruits of the garden would be luxury to me.

We had nothing yesterday from the General. Howe's army are in a very unwholesome situation. Their water is very bad and brackish. There are frequent morning and evening fogs, which produce intermittent fevers in abundance. Washington has a great body of militia assembled and assembling, in addition to a grand Continental army. Whether he will strike or not, I can't say. He is very prudent, you know, and will not unnecessarily hazard his army. By my own inward feelings, I judge, I should put more to risk if I were in his shoes, but perhaps he is right. Gansevoort has proved that it is possible to hold a post. Herkimer has shown that it is possible to fight Indians, and Stark has proved that it is practicable even to attack lines and posts with militia. I wish the Continental army would prove that anything can be done. But this is sedition at least. I am weary, however, I own, with so much insipidity.

St. Leger and his party have run away. So will Burgoyne. I wish Stark had the supreme command in the northern department. I am sick of Fabian systems in all quarters. The officers drink, A long and moderate war. My toast is, A short and violent war. They would call me mad and rash, etc., but I know better. I am as cool as any of them, and cooler too, for my mind is not inflamed with fear nor anger, whereas I believe theirs are with both. If this letter should be intercepted and published, it would do as much good as another did two years ago.

209. JOHN ADAMS.

Philadelphia, Monday, 8 September, 1777.

There has been a very general apprehension during the last week, that a general action would happen as on yesterday, but we hear of none. Our army is encamped between Newport and White Clay Creek, on advantageous ground. The General has harangued his army, and published in general orders, in order to prepare their minds for something great, and has held up the example of Stark, Herkimer, Gansevoort, and their troops to animate his officers and men with emulation. Whether he expects to be attacked, or whether he designs to offend, I can't say.

A general action which should terminate in a defeat of Howe would be complete and final ruin to him. If it should terminate only in a drawn battle, it would be the same thing. If he should gain a victory and maintain possession of the field, he would lose so many men killed and wounded that he would scarcely have enough left to march to Philadelphia, surrounded as he would be with militia and the broken remains of the Continental army. But if there should be no general battle, and the two armies should lounge away the remainder of the campaign in silent inactivity, gazing at each other, Howe's reputation would be ruined in his own country and in all Europe, and the dread of him would cease in all America. The American mind, which, I think, has more firmness now than it ever had before, since this war began, would acquire a confidence and strength that all the efforts of Great Britain afterwards would not be able to relax.

You will see by the papers inclosed that we have been obliged to attempt to humble the pride of some Jesuits, who call themselves Quakers,[179] but who love money and land better than liberty and religion. The hypocrites are endeavoring to raise the cry of persecution, and to give this matter a religious turn, but they can't succeed. The world knows them and their communications. Actuated by a land-jobbing spirit like that of William Penn, they have been soliciting grants of immense regions of land on the Ohio. American independence has disappointed them, which makes them hate it. Yet the dastards dare not avow their hatred to it, it seems.

The moments are critical here. We know not but the next will bring us an account of a general engagement begun, and when once begun, we know not how it will end, for the battle is not always to the strong. The events of war are uncertain. All that we can do is to pray, as I do most devoutly, that we may be victorious; at least, that we may not be vanquished. But if it should be the will of Heaven that our army should be defeated, our artillery lost, our best generals killed, and Philadelphia fall into Mr. Howe's hands, still America is not conquered. America would yet be possessed of great resources, and, capable of great exertions, as mankind would see. It may for what I know, be the design of Providence that this should be the case. Because it would only lay the foundations of American independence deeper, and cement them stronger. It would cure Americans of their vicious and luxurious and effeminate appetites, passions, and habits, a more dangerous army to American liberty than Mr. Howe's.

However, without the loss of Philadelphia we must be brought to an entire renunciation of foreign commodities, at least of West India produce. People are coming to this resolution very fast here. Loaf sugar at four dollars a pound, wine at three dollars a bottle, etc., will soon introduce economy in the use of these articles. This spirit of economy would be more terrible to Great Britain than anything else, and it would make us more respectable in the eyes of all Europe. Instead of acrimonious altercations between town and country, and between farmer and merchant, I wish that my dear countrymen would agree in this virtuous resolution of depending on themselves alone. Let them make salt and live without sugar and rum.

I am grieved to hear of the angry contentions among you. That improvident act for limiting prices has done great injury, and in my sincere opinion, if not repealed, will ruin the State and introduce a civil war. I know not how unpopular this sentiment may be, but it is sincerely mine. There are rascally upstarts in trade, I doubt not, who have made great fortunes in a small period, who are monopolizing and oppressing. But how this can be avoided entirely, I know not, but by disusing their goods and letting them perish in their hands.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 179: General Sullivan in one of his excursions had seized some papers which implicated many of the society of Friends in and around Philadelphia, to such a degree as to call for severe measures of repression on the part of Congress and the authorities in Pennsylvania.]

210. JOHN ADAMS.

Philadelphia, 14 September, 1777.

You will learn from the newspapers, before this reaches you, the situation of things here. Mr. Howe's army is at Chester, about fifteen miles from this town. General Washington's is over the Schuylkill, awaiting the flank of Mr. Howe's army.

How much longer Congress will stay is uncertain. I hope we shall not move until the last necessity, that is, until it shall be rendered certain that Mr. Howe will get the city. If we should move, it will be to Reading, Lancaster, York, Easton, or Bethlehem, some town in this State. It is the determination not to leave this State. Don't be anxious about me, nor about our great and sacred cause. It is the cause of truth and will prevail. If Howe gets the city, it will cost him all his force to keep it, and so he can get nothing else.

My love to all friends.

211. ABIGAIL ADAMS.

17 September, 1777.

I have to acknowledge a feast of letters from you since I wrote last; their dates from August 19th to September 1st. It is a very great satisfaction to me to know from day to day the movement of Howe and his banditti. We live in hourly expectation of important intelligence from both armies. Heaven grant us victory and peace; two blessings, I fear, we are very undeserving of.

Inclosed you will find a letter to Mr. Lovell, who was so obliging as to send me a plan of that part of the country which is like to be the present seat of war. He accompanied it with a very polite letter, and I esteem myself much obliged to him; but there is no reward this side the grave that would be a temptation to me to undergo the agitation and distress I was thrown into by receiving a letter in his handwriting, franked by him. It seems almost impossible that the human mind could take in, in so small a space of time, so many ideas as rushed upon mine in the space of a moment. I cannot describe to you what I felt.

The sickness or death of the dearest of friends, with ten thousand horrors, seized my imagination. I took up the letter, then laid it down, then gave it out of my hand unable to open it, then collected resolution enough to unseal it but dared not read it; began at the bottom,--read a line,--then attempted to begin it, but could not. A paper was inclosed; I ventured upon that, and finding it a plan, recovered enough to read the letter; but I pray Heaven I may never realize such another moment of distress.

I designed to have written you a long letter, for really I owe you one, but have been prevented by our worthy Plymouth friends, who are here upon a visit, in their way home; and it is now so late at night, just struck twelve, that I will defer anything further till the next post. Good night, friend of my heart, companion of my youth, husband, and lover. Angels watch thy repose!

212. ABIGAIL ADAMS.

Braintree, 20 September, 1777.

I sit down this evening to write you, but I hardly know what to think about your going to New York. The story has been told so many times, and with circumstances so particular, that I with others have given some heed to it, though my not hearing anything of it from you leaves me at a loss.

Yours of September 4 came to hand last night. Our worthy uncle is a constant attendant upon the post-office for me, and brought it me. Yours of September 5 came to-night to Braintree, and was left as directed with the canister. I am sorry you gave yourself so much trouble about it. I got about half you sent me by Mr. Gerry. Am much obliged to you, and hope to have the pleasure of making the greater part of it for you. Your letter damped my spirits. When I had no expectation of your return till December, I endeavored to bring my mind to acquiesce in the too painful situation. I have reckoned the days since Bass went away a hundred times over, and every letter expected to find the day set for your return.

But now I fear it is far distant. I have frequently been told that the communication would be cut off, and that you would not be able ever to return. Sometimes I have been told so by those who really wished it might be so, with malicious pleasure. Sometimes your timid folks have apprehended that it would be so. I wish anything would bring you nearer. If there is really any danger I should think you would remove. It is a plan your enemies would rejoice to see accomplished, and will effect if it lies in their power. I am not apt to be intimidated, you know. I have given as little heed to that, and a thousand other bugbear reports, as possible. I have slept as soundly since my return, notwithstanding all the ghosts and hobgoblins, as ever I did in my life. It is true I never close my eyes at night till I have been to Philadelphia, and my first visit in the morning is there.

How unfeeling is the world! They tell me they heard you was dead with as little sensibility as a stock or a stone; and I have now got to be provoked at it, and can hardly help snubbing the person who tells me so.

The story of your being upon this conference at New York came in a letter, as I am told, from R. T. P. to his brother-in-law G----fe. Many, very many have been the conjectures of the multitude upon it. Some have supposed the war concluded, the nation settled. Others an exchange of prisoners. Others, a reconciliation with Britain, etc., etc.

I cannot consent to your tarrying much longer. I know your health must greatly suffer from so constant application to business, and so little exercise. Besides, I shall send you word by and by, as Regulus's steward did, that whilst you are engaged in the Senate, your own domestic affairs require your presence at home; and that your wife and children are in danger of wanting bread. If the Senate of America will take care of us, as the Senate of Rome did of the family of Regulus, you may serve them again; but unless you return, what little property you possess will be lost....

As to what is here under my more immediate inspection, I do the best I can with it. But it will not, at the high price labor is, pay its way. I know the weight of public cares lie so heavy upon you that I have been loath to mention your own private ones.

The best accounts we can collect from New York, assure us that our men fought valiantly. We are no wise dispirited here. We possess a spirit that will not be conquered. If our men are all drawn off and we should be attacked, you would find a race of Amazons in America. But I trust we shall yet tread down our enemies.

I must entreat you to remember me often. I never think your letters half long enough. I do not complain. I have no reason to. No one can boast of more letters than your

PORTIA.

213. ABIGAIL ADAMS.

21 September.

I imagine before this reaches you some very important event must take place between the two armies. Affairs on all sides seem to be worked up to a crisis. Howe is putting his whole force in action, and seems determined to drive or be driven.

I feel in a most painful situation between hope and fear. There must be fighting, and very bloody battles too, I apprehend. How my heart recoils at the idea. Why is man called _humane_, when he delights so much in blood, slaughter, and devastation? Even those who are styled civilized nations think this little spot worth contending for even to blood.

23 September.

We have confused accounts of a battle at the northward,[180] last Friday, in which the enemy were put to flight. God grant it may prove true. Vigorous exertions now on all sides may prove of the most happy consequence and terminate this cruel war. I long for a decisive battle and for peace, an honorable peace. I hope the enemy are as much in our power as you fancy them.

24 September.

Have just read a handbill giving a particular account of the engagement at the northward. You will have it long before this reaches you. The loss of Ticonderoga has awakened the sleeping genius of America, and called forth all her martial fire. May it never again be lulled to rest till crowned with victory and peace. Good officers will make good soldiers. Xanthippus, the Macedonian General, who had been educated in the discipline of Sparta and had learned the art of war in that renowned and excellent school, when he was called to assist the Carthaginians, who had been defeated in several battles against the Romans, declared publicly, and repeated it often in the hearing of their officers, that the misfortunes of the Carthaginians were owing entirely to the incapacity of their Generals; and be proved clearly to the council that by a conduct opposite to the former, they would not only secure their dominions, but drive the enemy out of them. Upon his accepting the command of the Carthaginians, the gloomy consternation (says Rollin) which had before seized the whole army was succeeded by joy and alacrity. The soldiers were urgent to be led against the enemy, in the firm assurance of being victorious under their new leader and of obliterating the disgrace of former defeats. Xanthippus did not suffer their ardor to cool, but led them on to battle, and entirely routed and defeated the Romans, making Regulus their prisoner. That General, who a few days before was insolent with victory, inexorable to the conquered, and deaf to all their remonstrances, in a few days experienced by the fate of war a sad reverse of fortune.

This is a case, I think, very similar to our own. May it prove so in the end! "There are two ways," says Rollin, "of acquiring improvement and instruction: first, by one's own experience, and secondly, by that of other men. It is much more wise and useful to improve by other men's miscarriages than by our own."

We have not yet received any intelligence from the southern army since the account of the engagement on the 11th,[181] which must have been very severe upon both sides. You now experience what we suffered when the army lay this way. I feel very anxious for their success. The suspense which the distance occasions is painful, but still I find very different sensations between having the enemy at such a distance and having them in my own neighborhood. I hope you will all look to your own safety. As you are not called to action, kidnapping would be rather disagreeable, but were you in the army I should despise myself for such a sentiment,--as much as I did a certain gentleman who was in the horrors a few days ago upon hearing that General Washington had retreated to within six miles of Philadelphia. If Howe should get possession of that city, it would immediately negotiate a peace. I could not help warmly replying that I did not believe it, even though that should be the case, and the General with his whole army should be cut off. I hoped then that an army of women would oppose him. Was it not the Saracens who turned their backs upon the enemy, and were slain by their women, who were placed behind them for that purpose?

Your favors of the 2d and 8th reached me upon the 20th. Your observations with regard to luxury are just, but trade and commerce will always support it. The necessity of the time will be a temporary restraint upon it, and put us upon seeking resources among ourselves. An instance of that may be seen in the progress which is made in grinding cornstalks and boiling the liquor into molasses. Scarcely a town or parish within forty miles of us but what has several mills at work; and had the experiment been made a month sooner, many thousand barrels would have been made. No less than eighty have been made in the small town of Manchester. It answers very well to distill, and may be boiled down to sugar. There are two mills fitting up in this parish. They have three rollers, one with cogs and two smooth. The stalks are stripped of the leaves and tops, so that it is no robbery upon the cattle, and the juice ground out. 'T is said four barrels of juice will make one of molasses, but in this, people differ widely. They have a method of refining it so that it looks as well as the best imported molasses.

Thus you see we go from step to step in our improvements. We can live much better than we deserve within ourselves. Why should we borrow foreign luxuries? Why should we wish to bring ruin upon ourselves? I feel as contented when I have breakfasted upon milk as ever I did with Hyson or Souchong. Coffee and sugar I use only as a rarity. There are none of these things but I could totally renounce. My dear friend knows that I could always conform to times and circumstances. As yet I know nothing of hardships. My children have never cried for bread nor been destitute of clothing. Nor have the poor and needy gone empty from my door, whenever it was in my power to assist them.

Heaven grant that I may continue to receive its blessings. One of its greatest is that I can subscribe myself wholly yours.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 180: The action between General Gates and Burgoyne on the 19th of September.]

[Footnote 181: The battle of Brandywine.]

214. JOHN ADAMS.

Yorktown, Pennsylvania, Tuesday, 30 September, 1777.