Sir, Though I have not the misfortune of personally knowing you, yet I am perfectly acquainted wit,h your character, which is obnoxious to common fame. Were you actuated in your present proceedings from principles misinformed, it would be the duty of every discerning man to point out your error, and rectify your mistake ー but when frequent remonstrances are of no effect and repeated acts of violence mark with infamy your conduct, I am induced to think you are actuated by no principle but the love of rapine. Your late insolent reply to Governor [Nicholas] Cooke's letter proves at once your ignorance, pride and contempt of all laws; and convinces every man, that you are a person capable of the worst of purposes, and ready for any dirty service, that your despotic masters, the British ministry, are pleased to impose on you. At the same time, while you are bestowing the epithets of rebel and traitor upon the good people of these colonies, you are acting the hardy pirate under royal colours. Can any thing be more inconsistent for a monarch, who reigns only for the happiness of his people, to send out his hireling servants to rob and pillage the substance of the most deserving of his subjects; whose only crime (if I may use the term) is an enthusiastic regard to the common rights of mankind in general, and the original British constitution in particular! But I fear I condescend too much, to reason with you, Sir, who have no ideas of your own, and at best are but a living machine in the hand of power, notwithstanding your many acts of villany ー In some small degree, I think you are pardonable, when we consider that your understanding naturally confined, is blinded by avarice and a love of self, which destroys every other consideration, and render you incapable of judging between right and wrong. The rule of your conduct is implicitly to obey the commands of your masters, be they ever so arbitrary and unjust. Follow, therefore, the bent of your own inclinations, and enrich yourself by the plunder of those, to whose independent souls you must appear an object truly contemptible. Your reign will soon have a period, an infamous period; your floating prisons will no longer be an asylum to screen you from the vengeance of an injured, insulted people, whose armies now encircle your miserable handful of hireling troops within the town of Boston, and will in process of time cleanse our seas of those pilfering nests of royal pirates, that now infest our shores and disturb our tranquillity. Remember the fate of the Gaspee schooner, and tremble for your safety; for those same people who devoted her to destruction, at the hazard of their lives, will again, when urged by repeated oppressions and aggravated insults, drag you like a felon from your armed den, devoted to the most exemplary punishment, though not adequate to your crimes. I would remonstrate with you like a friend on the infamy of your proceedings and endeavour to reclaim you to honesty (if you ever was possessed of it) by government. ー But I believe you to be a wretch incapable of reason, in whose callous breast one sentiment of honour or humanity never entered.
I would willingly entertain a better opinion of those two gentlemen who are employed in the same infamous service. Captain [James] Ayscough appears to be a man of moderation, from which I would infer, that he may be a person endowed with some good qualities, if not corrupted by your bad examples. But as they are companions of yours, there is little room left to doubt their approbation of your conduct. Candour itself cannot screen them from the imputation of your guilt; and, like the honest countryman, they may be hanged for associating with thieves. It would be a folly next to infatuation to attempt to argue the point, upon the English constitution, or the natural rights derived from that constitution, &c. guarantied to us by charters indefeasible, or to prostitute the divine powers of the soul to the investigation of your niggard understanding. Besides, I would not even now condescend to notice you, if it was not for the same reason that we punish an assassin to prevent his future indeterminate attacks. Not to detain you, Sir, I would recommend a speedy reformation to you, to restore the effects you have stolen from the inhabitants of Newport and Providence, and to reimburse the Colonies for all the robberies and depredations you have feloniously committed upon them, together with your smock faced colleague, who I hear has heartily coincided with your measures; I say, I would recommend those steps to you, not from a conviction of justice, for I believe your conscience is already seared against reflecxion ー but, from the same motive that actuates a common thief, I mean :he fear of punishment, which will undoubtedly overtake you in the end, though perhaps not so soon, as every honest American wishes, or your deserts require.
J. P-KE, Volunteer in the American Army
Camp at Cambridge, July 30,1775.