“Don’t fire till you see the whites of their eyes” were the orders of
“Old Put” to the Yankee farmers who first taught the enemy that they
could and would stand and fight British regulars.
The sound of drum and trumpet, the clatter of hoofs, the rattling of
gun-carriages, and all the other military din and bustle in the streets
of Boston, soon apprised the Americans on their rudely fortified
height of an impending attack. They were ill-fitted to withstand
it, being jaded by the night’s labor and want of sleep; hungry and
thirsty, having brought but scanty supplies, and oppressed by the
heat of the weather. Prescott sent repeated messages to General Ward,
asking reinforcements and provisions. Putnam seconded the request in
person, urging the exigencies of the case. Ward hesitated. He feared
to weaken his main body at Cambridge, as his military stores were
deposited there, and it might have to sustain the principal attack. At
length, having taken advice of the council of safety, he issued orders
for Colonels Stark and Read, then at Medford, to march to the relief
of Prescott with their New Hampshire regiments. The orders reached
Medford about eleven o’clock. Ammunition was distributed in all haste;
two flints, a gill of powder, and fifteen balls to each man. The balls
had to be suited to the different calibres of the guns; the powder to
be carried in powder-horns, or loose in the pocket, for there were
no cartridges prepared. It was the rude turn-out of yeoman soldiery
destitute of regular accoutrements.
In the meanwhile, the Americans on Breed’s Hill were sustaining the
fire from the ships, and from the battery on Copp’s Hill, which opened
upon them about ten o’clock. They returned an occasional shot from one
corner of the redoubt, without much harm to the enemy, and continued
strengthening their position until about eleven o’clock, when they
ceased to work, piled their intrenching tools in the rear, and looked
out anxiously and impatiently for the anticipated reinforcements and
supplies.
About this time General Putnam, who had been to headquarters, arrived
at the redoubt on horseback. Some words passed between him and Prescott
with regard to the intrenching tools, which have been variously
reported. The most probable version is, that he urged to have them
taken from their present place, where they might fall into the hands of
the enemy, and carried to Bunker’s Hill, to be employed in throwing up
a redoubt, which was part of the original plan, and which would be very
important should the troops be obliged to retreat from Breed’s Hill.
To this Prescott demurred that those employed to convey them, and
who were already jaded with toil, might not return to his redoubt. A
large part of the tools were ultimately carried to Bunker’s Hill, and a
breastwork commenced by order of General Putnam. The importance of such
a work was afterward made apparent.
About noon the Americans descried twenty-eight barges crossing from
Boston in parallel lines. They contained a large detachment of
grenadiers, rangers, and light infantry, admirably equipped, and
commanded by Major-general Howe. They made a splendid and formidable
appearance with their scarlet uniforms, and the sun flashing upon
muskets and bayonets, and brass fieldpieces. A heavy fire from the
ships and batteries covered their advance, but no attempt was made to
oppose them, and they landed about one o’clock at Moulton’s Point, a
little to the north of Breed’s Hill.
Here General Howe made a pause. On reconnoitering the works from
this point, the Americans appeared to be much more strongly posted
than he had imagined. He descried troops also hastening to their
assistance. These were the New Hampshire troops, led on by Stark.
Howe immediately sent over to General Gage for more forces, and a
supply of cannon-balls; those brought by him being found, through
some egregious oversight, too large for the ordnance. While awaiting
their arrival, refreshments were served out to the troops, with “grog”
by the bucketful; and tantalizing it was, to the hungry and thirsty
provincials, to look down from their ramparts of earth, and see their
invaders seated in groups upon the grass eating and drinking, and
preparing themselves by a hearty meal for the coming encounter. Their
only consolation was to take advantage of the delay, while the enemy
were carousing, to strengthen their position. The breastwork on the
left of the redoubt extended to what was called the Slough, but beyond
this, the ridge of the hill, and the slope toward Mystic River, were
undefended, leaving a pass by which the enemy might turn the left flank
of the position and seize upon Bunker’s Hill. Putnam ordered his chosen
officer, Captain Knowlton, to cover this pass with the Connecticut
troops under his command. A novel kind of rampart, savoring of rural
device, was suggested by the rustic general. About six hundred feet in
the rear of the redoubt, and about one hundred feet to the left of the
breastwork, was a post-and-rail fence, set in a low footwall of stone,
and extending down to Mystic River. The posts and rails of another
fence were hastily pulled up and set a few feet in behind this, and the
intermediate space was filled up with new-mown hay from the adjacent
meadows. This double fence, it will be found, proved an important
protection to the redoubt, although there still remained an unprotected
interval of about seven hundred feet.
While Knowlton and his men were putting up this fence, Putnam proceeded
with other of his troops to throw up the work on Bunker’s Hill,
despatching his son, Captain Putnam, on horseback, to hurry up the
remainder of his men from Cambridge. By this time his compeer in French
and Indian warfare, the veteran Stark, made his appearance with the
New Hampshire troops, five hundred strong. He had grown cool and wary
with age, and his march from Medford, a distance of five or six miles,
had been in character. He led his men at a moderate pace, to bring
them into action fresh and vigorous. In crossing the Neck, which was
enfiladed by the enemy’s ships and batteries, Captain Dearborn, who was
by his side, suggested a quick step. The veteran shook his head: “One
fresh man in action is worth ten tired ones,” replied he, and marched
steadily on.
Putnam detained some of Stark’s men to aid in throwing up the work on
Bunker’s Hill, and directed him to reinforce Knowlton with the rest.
Stark made a short speech to his men, now that they were likely to have
warm work. He then pushed on, and did good service that day at the
rustic bulwark.
About two o’clock Warren arrived on the heights, ready to engage in
their perilous defence, although he had opposed the scheme of their
occupation. He had recently been elected a major-general, but had not
received his commission; like Pomeroy, he came to serve in the ranks
with a musket on his shoulder. Putnam offered him the command at the
fence; he declined it, and merely asked where he could be of most
service as a volunteer. Putnam pointed to the redoubt, observing that
there he would be under cover. “Don’t think I seek a place of safety,”
replied Warren quickly; “where will the attack be the hottest?” Putnam
still pointed to the redoubt. “That is the enemy’s object; if that can
be maintained, the day is ours.”
Warren was cheered by the troops as he entered the redoubt. Colonel
Prescott tendered him the command. He again declined. “I have come to
serve only as a volunteer, and shall be happy to learn from a soldier
of your experience.” Such were the noble spirits assembled on these
perilous heights.
The British now prepared for a general assault. An easy victory was
anticipated; the main thought was, how to make it most effectual.
The left wing, commanded by General Pigot, was to mount the hill and
force the redoubt; while General Howe, with the right wing, was to
push on between the fort and Mystic River, turn the left flank of the
Americans, and cut off their retreat.
General Pigot, accordingly, advanced up the hill under cover of a fire
from fieldpieces and howitzers planted on a small height near the
landing-place on Moulton’s Point. His troops commenced a discharge of
musketry while yet at a long distance from the redoubts. The Americans
within the works, obedient to strict command, retained their fire
until the enemy were within thirty or forty paces, when they opened
upon them with a tremendous volley. Being all marksmen, accustomed to
take deliberate aim, the slaughter was immense, and especially fatal
to officers. The assailants fell back in some confusion; but rallied
on by their officers, advanced within pistol shot. Another volley,
more effective than the first, made them again recoil. To add to their
confusion, they were galled by a flanking fire from the handful of
provincials posted in Charlestown. Shocked at the carnage, and seeing
the confusion of his troops, General Pigot was urged to give the word
for a retreat.
In the meantime, General Howe, with the right wing, advanced along
Mystic River toward the fence where Stark, Read, and Knowlton were
stationed, thinking to carry this slight breastwork with ease, and so
get in the rear of the fortress. His artillery proved of little avail,
being stopped by a swampy piece of ground, while his columns suffered
from two or three fieldpieces with which Putnam had fortified the
fence. Howe’s men kept up a fire of musketry as they advanced; but,
not taking aim, their shots passed over the heads of the Americans.
The latter had received the same orders with those in the redoubt,
not to fire until the enemy should be within thirty paces. Some few
transgressed the command. Putnam rode up and swore he would cut down
the next man that fired contrary to orders. When the British arrived
within the stated distance a sheeted fire opened upon them from rifles,
muskets, and fowling-pieces, all leveled with deadly aim. The carnage,
as in the other instance, was horrible. The British were thrown into
confusion and fell back; some even retreated to the boats.
There was a general pause on the part of the British. The American
officers availed themselves of it to prepare for another attack, which
must soon be made. Prescott mingled among his men in the redoubt,
who were all in high spirits at the severe check they had given “the
regulars.” He praised them for their steadfastness in maintaining their
post, and their good conduct in reserving their fire until the word of
command, and exhorted them to do the same in the next attack.
Putnam rode about Bunker’s Hill and its skirts, to rally and bring
on reinforcements which had been checked or scattered in crossing
Charlestown Neck by the raking fire from the ships and batteries.
Before many could be brought to the scene of action the British had
commenced their second attack. They again ascended the hill to storm
the redoubt; their advance was covered as before by discharges of
artillery. Charlestown, which had annoyed them on their first attack
by a flanking fire, was in flames, by shells thrown from Copp’s Hill,
and by marines from the ships. Being built of wood, the place was soon
wrapped in a general conflagration. The thunder of artillery from
batteries and ships; the bursting of bomb-shells; the sharp discharges
of musketry; the shouts and yells of the combatants; the crash of
burning buildings, and the dense volumes of smoke, which obscured
the summer sun, all formed a tremendous spectacle. “Sure I am,” said
Burgoyne in one of his letters--“Sure I am nothing ever has or ever
can be more dreadfully terrible than what was to be seen or heard at
this time. The most incessant discharge of guns that ever was heard by
mortal ears.”
The American troops, although unused to war, stood undismayed amidst a
scene where it was bursting upon them with all its horrors. Reserving
their fire, as before, until the enemy was close at hand, they again
poured forth repeated volleys with the fatal aim of sharpshooters.
The British stood the first shock, and continued to advance; but the
incessant stream of fire staggered them. Their officers remonstrated,
threatened, and even attempted to goad them on with their swords, but
the havoc was too deadly; whole ranks were mowed down; many of the
officers were either slain or wounded, and among them several of the
staff of General Howe. The troops again gave way and retreated down the
hill.
All this passed under the eye of thousands of spectators of both sexes
and all ages, watching from afar every turn of a battle in which the
lives of those most dear to them were at hazard. The British soldiery
in Boston gazed with astonishment and almost incredulity at the
resolute and protracted stand of raw militia whom they had been taught
to despise, and at the havoc made among their own veteran troops.
Every convoy of wounded brought over to the town increased their
consternation; and General Clinton, who had watched the action from
Copp’s Hill, embarking in a boat, hurried over as a volunteer, taking
with him reinforcements.
A third attack was now determined on, though some of Howe’s officers
remonstrated, declaring it would be downright butchery. A different
plan was adopted. Instead of advancing in front of the redoubt, it was
to be taken in flank on the left, where the open space between the
breastwork and the fortified fence presented a weak point. It having
been accidentally discovered that the ammunition of the Americans was
nearly expended, preparations were made to carry the works at the point
of the bayonet; and the soldiery threw off their knapsacks, and some
even their coats, to be more light for action.
General Howe, with the main body, now made a feint of attacking the
fortified fence; but, while a part of his force was thus engaged, the
rest brought some of the fieldpieces to enfilade the breastwork on the
left of the redoubt. A raking fire soon drove the Americans out of this
exposed place into the enclosure. Much damage, too, was done in the
latter by balls which entered the sally-port.
The troops were now led on to assail the works; those who flinched
were, as before, goaded on by the swords of the officers. The Americans
again reserved their fire until their assailants were close at hand,
and then made a murderous volley, by which several officers were laid
low, and General Howe himself was wounded in the foot. The British
soldiery this time likewise reserved their fire and rushed on with
fixed bayonet. Clinton and Pigot had reached the southern and eastern
sides of the redoubt, and it was now assailed on three sides at once.
Prescott ordered those who had no bayonets to retire to the back part
of the redoubt and fire on the enemy as they showed themselves above
the parapet. The first who mounted exclaimed in triumph, “The day is
ours!” He was instantly shot down, and so were several others who
mounted at the same time. The Americans, however, had fired their last
round, their ammunition was exhausted; and now succeeded a desperate
and deadly struggle, hand to hand, with bayonets, stones, and the
stocks of their muskets. At length, as the British continued to pour
in, Prescott gave the order to retreat. His men had to cut their way
through two divisions of the enemy who were getting in rear of the
redoubt, and they received a destructive volley from those who had
formed on the captured works. By that volley fell the patriot Warren,
who had distinguished himself throughout the action. He was among the
last to leave the redoubt, and had scarce done so when he was shot
through the head with a musket-ball, and fell dead on the spot.
While the Americans were thus slowly dislodged from the redoubt, Stark,
Read, and Knowlton maintained their ground at the fortified fence;
which, indeed, had been nobly defended throughout the action. Pomeroy
distinguished himself here by his sharp-shooting until his musket was
shattered by a ball. The resistance at this hastily constructed work
was kept up after the troops in the redoubt had given way, and until
Colonel Prescott had left the hill; thus defeating General Howe’s
design of cutting off the retreat of the main body, which would have
produced a scene of direful confusion and slaughter. Having effected
their purpose, the brave associates at the fence abandoned their weak
outpost, retiring slowly, and disputing the ground inch by inch, with a
regularity remarkable in troops many of whom had never before been in
action.
The main retreat was across Bunker’s Hill, where Putnam had endeavored
to throw up a breastwork. The veteran, sword in hand, rode to the rear
of the retreating troops, regardless of the balls whistling about him.
His only thought was to rally them at the unfinished works. “Halt! make
a stand here!” cried he, “we can check them yet. In God’s name form and
give them one shot more.”
Pomeroy, wielding his shattered musket as a truncheon, seconded him in
his efforts to stay the torrent. It was impossible, however, to bring
the troops to a stand. They continued on down the hill to the Neck,
and across it to Cambridge, exposed to a raking fire from the ships
and batteries, and only protected by a single piece of ordnance. The
British were too exhausted to pursue them; they contented themselves
with taking possession of Bunker’s Hill, were reinforced from Boston,
and threw up additional works during the night.