[88] The following letter from John Payne of Boston to Colonel prevailing religious feeling, illustrates the ardor of the 89 New England people towards their rash adventure:-- BOSTON, Apr. 24, 1745. Sir,--I hope this will find you at Louisbourg with a Bowl of Punch a Pipe and a P--k of C--ds in your hand and whatever else you desire (I had forgot to mention a Pretty French Madammoselle). We are very Impatiently expecting to hear from you, your Friend Luke has lost several Beaver Hatts already concerning the Expedition, he is so very zealous about it that he has turned Poor Boutier out of his House for saying he believed you would not Take the Place.----Damn his Blood says Luke, let him be an Englishman or a Frenchman and not pretend to be an Englishman when he is a Frenchman in his Heart. If drinking to your success would Take Cape Briton, you must be in Possession of it now, for it’s a standing Toast. I think the least thing you Military Gent^n can do is to send us some arrack when you take ye Place to celebrate your Victory and not to force us to do it in Rum Punch or Luke’s bad wine or sour cyder. To Collonell Robert Hale at (or near) Louisbourg. I am indebted for a copy of this curious letter to Robert Hale Bancroft, Esq., a descendant of Colonel Hale. CHAPTER XIX. 90 1745. LOUISBOURG BESIEGED. SETH POMEROY.--THE VOYAGE.--CANSEAU.--UNEXPECTED SUCCORS.--DELAYS.-- LOUISBOURG.--THE LANDING.--THE GRAND BATTERY TAKEN.--FRENCH CANNON TURNED ON THE TOWN.--WEAKNESS OF DUCHAMBON.--SUFFERINGS OF THE BESIEGERS: THEIR HARDIHOOD; THEIR IRREGULAR PROCEEDINGS.-- JOSEPH SHERBURN.--AMATEUR GUNNERY.--CAMP FROLICS.--SECTARIAN ZEAL.--PERPLEXITIES OF PEPPERRELL. On board one of the transports was Seth Pomeroy, gunsmith at Northampton, and now major of Willard’s Massachusetts regiment. He had a turn for soldiering, and fought, ten years later, in the battle of Lake George. Again, twenty years later still, when Northampton was astir with rumors of war from Boston, he borrowed a neighbor’s horse, rode a hundred miles, reached Cambridge on the morning of the battle of Bunker Hill, left his borrowed horse out of the way of harm, walked over Charlestown Neck, then swept by the fire of the ships-of-war, and reached the scene of action as the British were forming for the attack. When Israel Putnam, his comrade in the last war, saw from the rebel breastwork the old man striding, gun in hand, up the hill, he shouted, “By God, Pomeroy, you here! A cannon-shot would waken you out 91 of your grave!”