very inadequate punishment pointed out, that it should be referred to the General Congress, for their special direction; and that in the mean time he be closely confined, and no person visit him but by special direction.”

“A true copy of the Minutes of the Council of War on Dr. Church.

JOSEPH REED, Secretary”

The following Letter was exhibited to the House by Dr. Church, to which he said the foregoing was an answer, viz:

“DEAR DOCTOR: I have often told you what the dreams of your high sons would come to; do you forget my repeated caution not to make yourself too obnoxious to Government. What says the psalm singer and Johnny Dupe to fighting British Troops now? They are at Philadelphia, I suppose, plotting more mischief, where I hear your high mightiness has been ambassador extraordinary. Take care of your nob, Mr. Doctor—remember your old friend, the orator; he will preach no more sedition. Ally joins me in begging you will come to Boston; you may depend upon it, Government are determined to crush this rebellion. A large re-enforcement of troops is hourly expected, when they are determined to penetrate the country; for God’s sake, Doctor, come to Town directly; I’ll engage to procure your pardon; your sister is unhappy, under the apprehension of your being taken and hanged for a rebel, which God grant may not be the case. You may rely upon it, the Yankees will never be a match for the Troops of Great Britain. The Yorkers have behaved like damned fools, in robbing the King’s stores, as Government intended to grant them some exclusive privileges in trade, had they continued loyal; it will now be a rendezvous for British Troops. We know well that you are divided; that your people are discouraged; that you want discipline, artillery, and ammunition; and Government has taken effectual care that you shall not be supplied from other Powers. I have wondered that we have not heard from you; difference in politicks has not cancelled my friendship for you. Let me entreat you not to take up arms against your rightful King, as your friend Warren did, for which he has paid dearly. I cannot send your sulky, and the other matters you sent for; you may thank your own people for that, who first set the example by preventing any thing from being brought to Town. I think you might have sent us a bit of fresh pork now and then. You see Hancock and Adams are attainted already. If you cannot pass the lines, you may come in Captain Wallace, via Rhode-Island. If you do not come immediately, write to me in this character, and direct your letter to Major Cane, on His Majesty’s service, and deliver it to Captain Wallace; it will come safe. We have often been informed your people intend to attack the Town. By God, I believe they had such a dose on Bunker’s Hill as to cool their courage. Your sister has been for running away; Kitty has been very sick; we wished you to see her; she is now picking up.

“I remain your sincere friend and brother,

I. F.

“P. S. Don’t fail to write soon.”

proved, from this paragraph, that a previous correspondence never subsisted between us. If this had been the case, Sir, can it be supposed I should be so extremely minute and circumstantial in pointing out a mode and channel of conveyance? or, if we had heretofore communicated, should I not have intimated my reasons for altering the plan? I have urged labour and pains in writing him; I have urged secrecy; I have urged danger, merely to impress his mind with my being zealously attached to his party, to secure full faith and credit, to influence him to an unlimited confidence in his return to me. If in this I have transgressed, the motive will surely absolve me. Here, may it please your Honour, concludes the latter, innocently intended, however indiscreetly executed—a letter which has alarmed the world, wounded mo in the esteem of my friends, and glutted the malice of my enemies.

“I shall now, by your Honour’s leave, make a few observations on some particular passages, and then conclude. One or two paragraphs have been urged as proofs of my having carried on a correspondence with this person for some time past. The words ‘as I hinted before to you’ is one. This I have explained already. Another is: ‘You know I never deceived you.’ The man I wrote to had implicitly swallowed the doctrine of Mr. Hutchinson: that all the opposition arose from a small but busy faction; that the Americans would never dare to fight the British troops. These sentiments I had constantly and warmly opposed; assuring him the Continent was engaged in the opposition to the present measures; and if blood should be drawn, he would be convinced of the spirit and resolution of Americans. These facts he assented to the last time I saw him, and acknowledged I had not deceived him; which fully explains this passage. That the letter is totally fallacious, as far as evidence is admissible, you cannot doubt, Sir. The pains taken to send letters is, in every instance, incontestably false. The matter of sending cannon from Providence, as there related, is equally so, and probably calculated to effect political purposes. Why, then, may it please your Honour, shall unbounded credit be given to that letter, which bears such glaring marks of fallacy and design, and couched in terms totally inconsonant with the conduct of my whole life; against the conviction arising from that conduct; against my solemn asseveration, and against sundry concurring circumstances, to prove that it was meant as a piece of political deceit to serve my Country? If I had intended to commence a spy, Sir, why did I not communicate other matters than those which were of publick notoriety? The affair of robbing the King’s stores in New-York is adopting his very language. The expedition against Canada is barely mentioned, and introduced merely because it was published at the same time and in the same papers with the matter mentioned by himself; it was impossible but he should have known it, and therefore had I suppressed it, it might have excited a jealousy no way favourable to my purpose. Were there not sundry important matters then agitating, which I was well acquainted with? If I had been an enemy, why did I not mention those matters, which to communicate would be to defeat? Were I that enemy, may it please your Honour, which the tongue of slander proclaims me to be, should I have made such an ostentatious parade of our strength and resources? Should I not rather have dwelt with a malicious pleasure on our weakness? Should I not rather have advised the enemy where to attack us with assurance of success? Should I not rather have encouraged them to prosecute the war with vigour, than to desist from hostilities, and propose terms of accommodation? Certain I am, Sir, the letter bears the impression of an anxious friend to his Country. I have there expressed a firm loyalty for the King; so has this House, in every publick proceeding. I have told him, and confirmed it with abundant facts, that the Americans were determined vigorously to defend their rights; so have you, Gentlemen, asserted in the strongest terms. I have recommended, with all the warmth of an honest zeal, to put an end to the work of death; is not this the universal wish, Sir? You will say, perhaps, I conversed with him in the language of an enemy. He is a friend to Government, so called, Sir. I wrote ad hominem; I wrote ad captum. Where, may it please your Honour, is the crime, unless it be a crime to pursue indirect measures, at a time of publick danger, to prevent a publick calamity? The manner in which the letter was written, the mode of address and conveyance, have likewise been much condemned; but if it be considered, Sir, that this was the mode prescribed by the person to whom I wrote; that affected secrecy and an ostensible coincidence in sentiment were indispensable, in order to effect my design, those of candid and liberal sentiments will readily pardon me. I have been used, Sir, to direct the reins in my little theatre of politicks. I had no suspicion of evil, because I meant none. The letter was intrusted to a man I did not know; whom I never saw. Two months it lay where I could easily have obtained it. I never was one moment anxious about it. Surely, may it please your Honour, it will afford a presumption of my innocent intention, at least, when the letter was lodged in the hands of a stranger who resided in the very centre of my friends and relations, that I never was solicitous enough to write to one of those to secure it,

“I will entreat the patience of the honourable House for a moment longer. When I was in Boston, exposed to certain hazard, solicited, persecuted, and personally obnoxious, did I ever recede one moment from the cause of my Country? Though frequently threatened and abused, as I passed the streets, my house assaulted, and my windows broken in the night, was I ever intimidated from pursuing, with my utmost vigour, the interest of the publick? And now, Sir, when the Colonies are united, the opposition general and formidable, my person secure, and no other temptation to revolt but the hopes of pardon, to be thus influenced at this time must betray a versatility bordering upon insanity. Were my small, but sincere services ill requited; were I entirely neglected in the dispensation of publick benefits, I might be suspected of apostacy, from chagrin and disappointment. But the matter is so totally different, that, when the establishment of an hospital was in contemplation, I had every satisfactory encouragement that I should be appointed; and in such a way as to have my utmost wishes gratified.

“The result of this inquiry, may it please your Honour, the determination of this important body, is to mo of the last importance. I solicit not life; that I have long held in my hand, a ready, a devoted oblation to my Country. I plead for more than life. I plead, in spite of one act of precipitation, and even that from a virtuous intention, I plead a restoration to your confidence and esteem—to the esteem and confidence of my Country—which I have never forfeited. If I have inadvertently erred, judge my mistakes with candour. The irregularity of a measure which they are unable to account for has alarmed, has startled my friends. Their determination is suspended; it rests upon yours.

“I demand your confidence, gentlemen; the warmest bosom here does not flame with a brighter zeal for the security, happiness, and liberties of America, than mine. Consider, gentlemen, the adopted character sustained through that letter, consider the apparent design, and attend to the concluding urgent recommendation of an immediate accommodation; weigh the labours of an active life against the indiscretion of an hour. Be pleased to consider, Sir, if the letter had arrived, had it not produced the good intended, it could not have produced any mischief; but it never arrived, never produced any ill consequences but to the guiltless though unfortunate author. Consider, gentlemen, what a miserable, what an embarrassed situation I shall be flung into, if so unhappy as to incur your censure; here I shall be wretched indeed— subjected to the sting of invective, pointed with savage asperity—doubly wretched in having no sanctuary from reproach and ruin. The most obstinate and malicious enemy to his country finds a secure asylum in that retreat where I have sacrificed my fortune for you, and which I have effectually barred by my incessant exertions in your service. To your wisdom, gentlemen, to your justice, to your tenderness, I cheerfully submit my fate.”

Here I was questioned respecting sundry matters which were uttered during my defence, by sundry members of the honourable House, and was directed to withdraw, under the conduct of the guard. Previous to my departure from the House, I addressed myself to the honourable Speaker, informing the House I desired to be admitted to bail; otherwise, I was fearful of falling a martyr to the severities of my imprisonment; and then withdrew.

From my Prison in CAMBRIDGE, November 1, 1775.

Attest:     B. C., JUN.

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