Five days later a third indignant Provincial wrote: 'Ye
French keep possession yet, and we are forsed to stand
at their Dores to gard them.' Another sympathetic
chronicler, after pouring out the vials of his wrath on
the clause which guaranteed the protection of French
private property, lamented that 'by these means the poor
souldiers lost all their hopes and just demerit [sic] of
plunder promised them.'

While Parson Moody was preaching a great thanksgiving
sermon, and all the senior officers were among his
congregation, there was what responsible officials called
'excessive stealing in every part of the Towne.' Had this
stealing really been very 'excessive' no doubt it would
have allayed the grumbling in the camp. But, as a matter
of fact, there was so little to steal that the looters
began to suspect collusion between their leaders and the
French. Another fancied wrong exasperated the Provincials
at this critical time. A rumour ran through the camp that
Warren had forestalled Pepperrell by receiving the keys
himself. Warren was cursed, Pepperrell blamed; and a
mutinous spirit arose. Then it was suddenly discovered
that Pepperrell had put the keys in his pocket.

Meanwhile the fleet was making haul after haul. When
Pepperrell marched through the battered West Gate, at
the head of his motley army, Warren had led his squadron
into the harbour; and both commanders had saluted the
raising of the Union Jack which marked the change of
ownership. But no sooner had the sound of guns and cheering