New York, 28th June, 1776.
My dear Friend,
... You will be in Boston long before this can reach you, and will doubtless have heard of the Discovery of the greatest and vilest attempt ever made against our country: I mean the plot, the infernal plot which has been contrived by our worst enemies, and which was on the verge of execution: you will, I say, undoubtedly have heard of it, but perhaps I may give you a better idea of it than as yet you have obtained. The Mayor of York with a number of villains who were possessed of fortunes, and who formerly ranked with Gentlemen, had impiously dared an undertaking, big with fatal consequences to the virtuous army in York, and which in all probability would have given the enemy possession of the city with little loss. Their design was, upon the first engagement which took place, to have murdered (with trembling I say it) the best man on earth: Genl Washington was to have been the first subject of their unheard of Sacricide: our magazines which, as you know, are very capacious, were to have been blown up: every General Officer and every other who was active in serving his country in the field was to have been assassinated: our cannon were to be spiked up: and in short every the most accursed scheme was laid to give us into the hands of the enemy, and to ruin us. They had plenty of money, and gave large bounties and larger promises to those who were engaged to serve their hellish purposes. In order to execute their Design upon our General, they had enlisted into their service one or two from his Excellency's life-Guard, who were to have assassinated him: knowing that no person could be admitted into the magazines or among the cannon but those who were of the Artillery they have found several in our Regiment vile enough to be concerned in their diabolical Designs—these were to have blown up the Magazines and spiked the cannon. (Tell Homans, one Rotch, a fellow he bled for me in Morton's company at No 1 is taken up with his brother for being concerned.) Their Design was deep, long concerted, and wicked to a great Degree. But happily for us, it has pleased God to discover it to us in season, and I think we are making a right improvement of it (as the good folks say). We are hanging them as fast as we find them out. I have just now returned from the Execution of one[242] of the General's Guard: he was the first that has been tried: yesterday at 11 o'clock he received sentence, to-day at 11 he was hung in presence of the whole army. He is a Regular-Deserter ... he appeared unaffected and obstinate to the last, except that when the Chaplains took him by the hand under the Gallows and bad him adieu, a torrent of tears flowed over his face; but with an indignant scornful air he wiped 'em with his hand from his face, and assumed the confident look. You remember General Greene commands at Long Island; with his last breath the fellow told the spectators, that unless Genl Greene was very cautious, the Design would as yet be executed on him.
The trial will go on, and I imagine they will be hung, gentle and simple, as fast as the fact is proved upon them.
That any set of men could be so lost to every virtuous principle, and so dead to the feelings of humanity as to conspire against the person of so great and good a man as Genl Washington is surprising; few of our countrymen (as you may imagine) are concerned; they are in general foreigners: upwards of 30 were concerned, and 'tis said Govr Tryon is at the bottom....
Our Expedition against the Light house did not succeed; they command it so well with ye shipping that 'tis thought wise to let it stand....
W. Eustis.
Monday Morning July 1st.—Since writing the above upwards of 100 sail have arrived: we conclude that the whole fleet is there: for we have counted 140 topsail vessels; some say there are 160: people are moving out of York; and I think we must very soon come to action; the flower of our Reg. is picked for a field fight, which we imagine will take place on long island. Wherever I am, whatever I am doing, my best wishes will be for the felicity of my friend. Adieu. Heaven preserve us to meet again.
[New England Hist. and Gen. Register, vol. xxiii. p. 205.]