Abigail Adams to John Adams, 31 July 1775
Braintree july 31–1775
I do not feel easy more than two days together without writing to you. If you abound you must lay some of the fault upon yourself, who have made such sad complaints for Letters, but I really believe I have wrote more than all my Sister Delegates. Their is nothing new transpired since I wrote you last, but the sailing of some transports, and 5 deserters having come into our camp. One of them is gone I hear to Phyladelphia. I think I should be cautious of him–no one can tell the secret designs of such fellows whom no oath binds–he may be sent with assassinating designs. I can credit any viliny that a Ceasar Borgea would have been guilty of–or Satan himself would rejoice in. Those who do not scruple to bring poverty, Misiry, Slavery and Death upon thousands will not hesitate at the most diabolical crimes–and this is Brittain. Blush o! Americans that ever thou derivest thy origin from such a race.
We learn from one of these Deserters that our ever valued Friend Warren, dear to us even in Death; was [not] 1 treated with any more respect than a common soldier, but the [sav] age wretches call–d officers consulted together and agreed to sever his Head from his body, and carry it in triumph to Gage, who no doubt would have –grin–d horrible a gastly smile,– instead of imitating Ceasar who far from being gratified with so horrid a Spectacle, as the Head even of his Enimy, turned away from Pompeys with disgust and gave vent to his pitty in a flood of tears.
–How much does pagan tenderness put christian Benevolence to shame.– What Humanity could not obtain, the rights and ceremonies of a Mason demanded. An officer who it seems was one of the Brotherwhood requested that as a Mason he might have the body unmangled, and find a decent interment for it. He obtaind his request, but upon returning to secure it, he found it already thrown into the Earth, only with the ceremony of being first placed there, with many bodies over him 2 –
–Nor writ his Name whose tomb should pierce the Skies.–
–Glows my resentment into Guilt? What Guilt
Can equal voilations of the Dead?
The Dead how sacred! Sacred is the Dust
Of this Heaven-labourd form erect, divine!
This Heav–n assum–d Majestick robe of earth.–