[Extract]

I wrote you last Thursday and would have given a good deal that you was here last Saturday [December 2] when the stores arrived at camp; such universal joy ran through the whole as if each grasped victory in his hand: to crown the glorious scene there intervened one truly ludicrous, which was old PUT.² mounted on the large mortar which was fixed in its bed for the occasion, with a bottle of rum in his hand, standing parson to christen, while godfather [Thomas] Mifflin gave it the name of Congress. The huzzas on the occasion I dare say were heard through all the territories of our most gracious sovereign in this Province.

Manly sent in a large ship from Glasgow, bound for Boston, with coals and dry goods amounting per invoice to £3606 sterling.³ There were a vast number of letters, and what is really extraordinary not one that does not breathe enmity, death and destruction to this fair land, G-d damn them. The shippers of this cargo are Crawford, Anderson, and Co., consigned to James Anderson, who is now actually a captain in the Loyal Scotch Americans at Boston. This gentleman is part owner of ship and cargo. Shall we not condemn them? I fear ー but no more thereon.