Medford Historical Society Papers, Volume 8.

[p. 19] may have been like those described by Rev. William Emerson, an army chaplain, grandfather of Ralph Waldo Emerson. He says of the camps about Prospect Hill, ‘They are as different in their form as the owners are in their dress, and every tent is a portraiture of the temper and taste of the persons who encamp in it. Some are made of boards and some of sailcloth; some partially of one and partly of the other. Again, others are made of stone, or turf, brick and brush. Some are thrown up in a hurry; others are enviously wrought with doors and windows, done with wreathes and withes, in the manner of a basket.’

They may have been quartered upon the people of the town, and found here as on the way hither, as we are told, ‘hospitable doors opened to them and all things in common.’ Later, there may have been vacant houses in which they could take shelter, for Abigail Adams, writing under date of ‘25 June, 1775,’ concerning the excitement attending the battle of Bunker Hill, says, ‘Medford people are all removed. Every seaport seems in motion.’

The British had ships and floating batteries in the Mystic river, which flows through the centre of our city, and the following from Mr. Nowell's diary, as given by Rev. Charles Brooks in his History of Medford, shows the excitement and perturbation the inhabitants were subject to and serves to explain the reason why many found it preferable to remove from their homes rather than remain under conditions so trying, unsafe and disturbing: ‘Aug. 6, 1775: Skirmishing up Mistick River. Several Soldiers brought over here wounded. The house at Penny Ferry, Maldenside burnt.’ ‘August 13.— Several gondaloes sailed up Mistick River, upon which the Provincials and they had a skirmish; many shots exchanged but nothing decisive.’ One historian speaking of Charlestown at this period says, ‘So great were the alarm and distress in that thriving suburban village of Boston that it was almost deserted. Its population of ’