Yorktown, 15 October, 1777.
I have not been able of late to keep up my correspondence with you so constantly as my heart inclined me to do. But I hope now to write you oftener; but I don't incline to write very particularly, lest my letters should be intercepted. I am in tolerable health, but oppressed with a load of public cares. I have long foreseen that we should be brought down to a great degree of depression before the people of America would be convinced of their real danger, of the true causes of it, and be stimulated to take the necessary steps for a reformation. Government and law in the States, large taxation, and strict discipline in our armies are the only things wanting as human means. These with the blessing of Heaven will certainly produce glory, triumph, liberty and safety, and peace, and nothing but these will do.
I long with the utmost impatience to come home. Don't send a servant for me. The expense is so enormous that I cannot bear the thought of it. I will crawl home upon my little pony, and wait upon myself as well as I can. I think you had better sell my horse.
The people are universally calling for fighting and for blood. Washington is getting into the humor of fighting, and Howe begins to dread it. And well he may. Fighting will certainly answer the end, although we may be beaten every time for a great while. We have been heretofore greatly deceived concerning the numbers of militia. But there are numbers enough, if they knew how to fight, which as soon as their Generals will let them, they will learn.
218. Abigail Adams.
20 October, 1777.
'T is true, my dearest friend, that I have spent an anxious three weeks, and the sight of a letter from you gave me joy beyond expression. I had sent every post day, and every post was disappointed. I could not learn one word with certainty. Nor can I now determine whether you are eighty-eight miles nearer to me, or farther off than you were before.
I was greatly surprised when I heard that the enemy was in possession of Philadelphia, without any engagement on our part. If men will not fight and defend their own particular spot, if they will not drive the enemy from their doors, they deserve the slavery and subjection which awaits them. There is much, I think, comprised in that short sentence, "I shall avoid all history and make no reflections." I think I can construe a volume from it. I will follow the example, lest a miscarriage of this should give triumph to an enemy.
Our affairs at the northward wear a more pleasing aspect. The sunshine from the north gilds the dark clouds of the south, or the storm would look dismal indeed.