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THE SIEGE OF BOSTON
[Illustration: Logo]
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
NEW YORK BOSTON CHICAGO
ATLANTA SAN FRANCISCO
MACMILLAN & CO., LIMITED
LONDON BOMBAY CALCUTTA
MELBOURNE
THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD.
TORONTO
[Illustration: OLD STATE HOUSE]
THE SIEGE OF BOSTON
BY
ALLEN FRENCH
New York
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
1911
_All rights reserved_
COPYRIGHT, 1911,
BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.
Set up and electrotyped. Published February, 1911.
Norwood Press
J. S. Cushing Co.--Berwick & Smith Co.
Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.
TO C. E. S.
PREFACE
In writing this book I have endeavored to produce a brief and readable
account of the Siege of Boston, and of the events which brought it
about. These were, of course, parts of a larger history, the connection
with which I have carefully indicated. My main endeavor, nevertheless,
has been to treat my subject as a single organic series of events. To
select the more interesting and significant masses of detail, and
properly to cooerdinate them, has not been an easy task. The minor
incidents were conditioned by the scale of the book; the result, I hope,
is fluency and a more evident connection between the larger events.
So far as possible, I have relied upon contemporary statements. But no
writer on the Siege can fail to acknowledge his deep obligations to the
"History of the Siege" by Richard Frothingham. This acknowledgment I
gladly make. Since 1849, however, the date of the publication of the
book, there has come to light interesting new material which I have
endeavored to incorporate here. The other authorities upon which I have
chiefly depended will be found by referring to the footnotes.
ALLEN FRENCH.
CONCORD, MASSACHUSETTS,
January, 1911.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. BEGINNINGS AND CONDITIONS 1
II. WRITS OF ASSISTANCE AND THE STAMP ACT 21
III. CHARLES TOWNSHEND, SAM ADAMS, AND THE MASSACRE 41
IV. THE TEA-PARTY AND ITS CONSEQUENCES 71
V. THE OCCUPATION OF BOSTON 91
VI. THE POWDER ALARM AND THE WINTER OF 1774-1775 123
VII. MILITARY PREPARATIONS 161
VIII. THE NINETEENTH OF APRIL 187
IX. BOSTON BELEAGUERED 216
X. THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL 256
XI. WASHINGTON TAKES COMMAND 288
XII. EVENTS IN BOSTON FROM JUNE TO DECEMBER, 1775 331
XIII. WASHINGTON'S DIFFICULTIES 361
XIV. THE WINTER IN BOSTON 392
XV. THE EVACUATION 415
ILLUSTRATIONS
OLD STATE HOUSE _Frontispiece_
PAGE
THE HUTCHINSON HOUSE 35
FANEUIL HALL _facing_ 58
SAMUEL ADAMS _facing_ 69
THE INVESTMENT OF BOSTON _facing_ 127
REVERE'S PICTURE OF BOSTON IN 1768 175
THE OLD NORTH CHURCH _facing_ 181
THE BATTLE OF LEXINGTON _facing_ 193
PLAN OF THE SIEGE 235
THE MINUTE MAN _facing_ 303
THE OLD NORTH BRIDGE _facing_ 303
WASHINGTON'S HEADQUARTERS _facing_ 374
DORCHESTER TOWER 407
GOLD MEDAL COMMEMORATING WASHINGTON'S VICTORY 434
THE SIEGE OF BOSTON
CHAPTER I
BEGINNINGS AND CONDITIONS
The Siege of Boston was the culmination of a series of events which will
always be of importance in the history of America. From the beginning of
the reign of George the Third, the people of the English colonies in the
new world found themselves at variance with their monarch, and nowhere
more so than in Massachusetts. Since the New England people were fitted
by their temperament and history to take the lead in the struggle, at
their chief town naturally took place the more important incidents.
These, which were often dramatic, had nevertheless a political cause and
significance which link them in a rising series that ended in a violent
outbreak and the eleven months' leaguer.
As to the siege itself, it varies an old situation, for Boston was beset
by its own neighbors in defence of the common rights. Previously the
king's troops, though regarded as invaders, had been but half-hearted
oppressors; it was the people themselves who persistently provoked
difficulties. The siege proper is of striking military interest, for its
hostilities begin by the repulse of an armed expedition into a community
of farmers, continue with a pitched battle between regular troops and a
militia, produce a general of commanding abilities, and end with a
strategic move of great skill and daring. It is the first campaign of a
great war, and precedes the birth of a nation. Politically, the cause of
the struggle is of enduring consequence to mankind. Socially, the siege
and its preliminaries bring to view people of all kinds, some weak, some
base, some picturesque, some entirely admirable. The period shows the
breaking up of an old society and the formation of a new. A study of
the siege is therefore of value.
It will be observed that the siege cannot satisfactorily be considered
as a distinct series of military or semi-military events, abruptly
beginning and still more abruptly ending. Such a view would reduce the
siege to a mere matter of local history, having little connection with
the larger movements of the American Revolution, and appearing almost as
an accident which might have happened at any other centre of sufficient
population.[1] On the contrary, neither the siege nor the Revolution
were accidents of history. That the Revolution was bound to come about,
and that its beginnings were equally bound to be at Boston, these were
conditioned in the nature, first of the colonists in general, and second
of the New Englanders in particular. However striking were certain of
the occurrences, they were of less importance than their causes and
consequences.
Accordingly I shall consider as an organic series the more important of
those events which happened in Boston during the reign of George the
Third, and which ended when the last of his redcoats departed from the
town. In fact, in order to be perfectly intelligible I must first devote
a few pages to a consideration of previous conditions.
"Any one," wrote George E. Ellis in the "Memorial History of Boston,"[2]
"who attempts to trace the springs, the occasions, and the directing
forces of the revolt ... cannot find his clew a year short of the date
when the former self-governed Colony of Massachusetts Bay became a Royal
Province." He is right in pointing out that in 1692 the struggle took
open form. Yet even then the controversy was not new. In other form it
had been carried on for more than half a century previous. Its ultimate
origin lay in the fact that the very charter under which the colony was
planted differed from all other documents granted by any English king.
This difference lay in the omission of the condition, usual in such
charters, that its governing board should meet in London practically for
the purpose of supervision by the king. That the omission of this
condition was the result of wisdom on the part of the founders, and
stupidity on the part of the officers of the king, seems undeniable. The
founders, unhappy and alarmed at the political and religious situation
in England under Charles the First, were seeking to provide for
themselves and their families a refuge from his oppressions. Secure in
their charter, they presently left England for good. When they sailed
for America they did all that could be done to cut themselves off from
interference by the crown.
At intervals, extremely valuable for the future of America, the
Massachusetts colony certainly was free of all restraint. Charles's
benediction seems to have been "Good riddance!" From the crown the
colonists received no assistance whatever, and it was long both their
boast and their plea that they had planted the colony "at their own
expense." They were left to work out their own salvation.[3] As a
result, their passionate desire for freedom from interference by the
king grew into the feeling that they had earned it as a right.
Englishmen they were still, and subjects of the king; but to the
privileges of Englishmen they had added the right to manage their own
affairs. The English king and the English law were to help them in their
difficulties and to settle cases of appeal. In return they would grant
money and fight for the king when necessary; but in the meantime they
would live by themselves.
Taking advantage of the clause in their charter which authorized them
"to ordain and establish all manner of wholesome and reasonable orders,
laws, statutes, and ordinances," they speedily took to themselves
everything but the name of independence. They instituted courts for all
purposes, set up their legislative government, raised their own taxes,
whether general or local, and perfected that wonderful instrument of
resistance to oppression, New England town government. They even coined
money. And, different from most of the other colonies, they chose their
governor from among their own number.
Distance and home difficulties--for the Stuart kings usually had their
hands full of trouble with their subjects--favored the non-interference
which the colonists craved. When, however, the Stuarts had any leisure
at all, they at once devoted it to quarrelling with their subjects in
New England. Even to the easy-going Charles II the cool aloofness of the
colonists was a bit too strong; to his father and brother it was
intolerable.
The invariable methods of the colonists, when facing a demand from the
king, were evasion and delay. "Avoid or protract" were Winthrop's own
words in 1635. In 1684 the General Court wrote advising their attorney,
employed in England in defending the charter, "to spin out the case to
the uttermost."[4] Once and once only until the Revolution--in the case
of the seizing of Andros--did the men of Massachusetts proceed to
action. Their habitual policy was safe, and, on the whole, successful.
Slow communication (one voyage of commissioners from Boston to England
took three months), and the existence in England of a strong party of
friends, helped powerfully to obscure and obliterate the issues. Yet
Charles I in 1640, and James II in 1689, made preparations to reduce the
colony to proper subjection, by force if necessary.
It was doubtless well for Massachusetts that both Charles and James were
presently dethroned, for against the power of England no successful
resistance could then have been made. New England, indeed, might have
been united against the king, but it is very unlikely that the other
colonies would have given their help. Some generations more were needed
before the aristocrats of Virginia could feel themselves at one with the
Puritans of New England.
Yet it is interesting to notice the spirit of Massachusetts. On the news
of Charles's intentions the colony prepared for resistance. In James's
time it went a step further. When the news came of the expedition of
William of Orange, Massachusetts cast in its lot with him. Without
waiting to learn the result of the struggle, Boston rose against James's
unpopular governor, and imprisoned him in the Castle. The act was
heroic, for the Bloody Assizes had taught the world what punishment the
cowardly king meted out to rebels.
It will be noticed that the political status of Massachusetts was
already changed. After many delays Charles II had abrogated the charter.
His death followed almost immediately, and Andros had been appointed at
the head of a provisional government. Doubtless the resistance to him
had been inspired by the hope that the old charter might be restored.
Instead, William, when once secure on the throne, issued a new charter.
Under its provisions the colony, now a province, lived until the
Revolution. In order that the events leading up to the siege may be
understood, it will be well to consider the provisions of the new
governmental machinery.
At the head of the province were to be a governor and a
lieutenant-governor, both appointed by the king. Their powers were
executive, with the right of veto over legislation, and also over
certain appointments by the legislature. Laws passed by this legislature
and not vetoed by the governor or the king were to go in force three
years after their enactment. The legislature had two houses, the lower a
popular chamber, called the Assembly, elected by the towns. The upper
branch was called the Council. The first Council was appointed by the
king; later members were to be nominated by the Assembly for the
approval of the governor. The Assembly and Council formed together the
Great and General Court. Judges were to be chosen by the governor and
Council, but all officers were to be paid by the General Court. As will
be seen later, in the case of the Writs of Assistance, appeal could be
taken to the English courts.
And now for the first time became evident the fact that three
generations of practical independence had bred in America a race of
men--or it may be better to say had fostered a school of thought--that
never could agree in submitting to a distant and arbitrary authority. In
the seventy years which followed, New England showed this spirit in many
ways. The most prominent cause of disagreement was the question of the
governor's prerogatives, resulting in constant bickerings with the
crown.
The principle, of course, lay deeper still. On the one side were
sovereigns whose powers were not yet definitely restricted, and who
were likely to resent any apparent tendency to make them less. On the
other side was a people who had progressed far in self-government, and
who resisted any limitation of their rights. It is not the purpose of
this book to trace the earlier unification of the colonies under
pressure from without. By the year 1760 that process was approaching
completion; there was, therefore, in America a stronger feeling than
ever, while across the water was that new ruler into whose youthful ears
his mother had continually dinned the words, "George, be king!"
It is well to understand the status of a colony in those days, and the
difficulties with which its inhabitants struggled. Yet it is hard for
the modern man to conceive the restrictions upon freedom. From earliest
days there had been discontent with the king's claim to the finest trees
in the public forests, the "mast trees" which, reserved for the king's
navy, no man might lawfully cut.[5] Exportation of lumber, except to
England and the British West Indies, was long illegal. Trade with the
French and Spanish islands was prohibited entirely, and trade in many
products of home manufacture (tobacco, sugar, wool, dye-stuffs, furs,
are prominent examples) was forbidden "to any place but Great
Britain--even to Ireland."[6] Certain merchandise might be imported at
will, subject to duty; but most articles could be bought, and sold, only
through Great Britain.
Further, internal commerce and manufacture were severely hampered. No
wool or woollen product might be carried from one province to another.
The Bible might not be printed. The making of hats was almost entirely
suppressed. The manufacture of iron, on a scale sufficient to compete
with English wares, was practically prohibited--as a "nuisance."[7]
Under all these restrictions the colonies were not as yet restive. To be
sure there were smuggling and illicit trade, and grievances in plenty;
yet the stress of colonial life, the continual danger from the north and
west, had kept the provincials satisfied as a body. And now, at the
opening of the reign of George III, with the French driven out of Canada
and the Mississippi Valley, and the Indians subdued, there should have
been concord between the colonists and the king.
The comparison between the two is very striking, while at the same time
it is not easily brought home to the city dweller of to-day. City
government gives the individual a chance to bury himself in the mass,
and to avoid his duties; further, our cities are now many, and very
large, while we are notoriously patient under misrule. In 1760, on the
other hand, few towns had as yet adopted city government. Boston was the
largest town, and its population was little more than fifteen thousand.
So well did its enemies understand one reason for its truculence, that
they even considered means to force upon the town a city charter. The
question came, however, to no definite proposition. The town therefore
proceeded with its open discussion of all public questions, with its
right of free speech in town meetings extended even to strangers, and
with its _viva voce_ vote letting each man know where his neighbor
stood. "The town" was an entity of which each man felt himself a part.
As a whole, its self-consciousness was like that of an individual: it
could feel a trespass on its privileges as quickly as could the
haughtiest monarch of the old world. And all New England was filled with
towns whose feelings, on all essential points, were one and the same.
Against the town-meetings of America stood George III, as determined to
assert his prerogatives as was any member of the house of Stuart. Still
comparatively young, he had not yet learned that there are limitations
of power, even to a king. And it was to the misfortune of his empire
that there were few in England to teach him.
For the old Puritan middle class of the Stuart days was gone. Its fibre
had softened; the class itself had disappeared in the easier-going
masses of a more prosperous day. For seventy-five years England had had
no internal dissensions, and her foreign wars had added to her wealth
and contentment. To her well-wishers it seemed as if the people had
given itself to sloth and indulgence. "I am satisfied," wrote Burke,
"that, within a few years, there has been a great change in the national
character. We seem no longer that eager, inquisitive, jealous, fiery
people which we have been formerly, and which we have been a very short
time ago."[8] England was the country of Tom Jones, hearty and healthy,
but animated by no high principles and keyed to no noble actions. It
needed the danger of the Napoleonic wars to bring out once more the
sturdy manliness of the nation. Through all the earlier reign of George
III there was, to be sure, a remainder of the old high-minded spirit.
Chatham and Rockingham, Burke, Barre, and others, spoke in public and
private for the rights of the colonists, to whom their encouragement
gave strength. But the greater part of the English people was so
indifferent to the moral and political significance of the quarrel that
the king was practically able to do as he pleased.
He proceeded on the assumption that every man had his price. The
assumption was unhappily too correct, for he was able to gather round
him, in Parliament or the civil service, his own party, the "King's
Friends," who served him for the profit that they got. No tale of modern
corruption can surpass the record of their plundering of a nation. With
this goes a story of gambling, drinking, and general loose living which,
while the attention is concentrated on it, rouses the belief that the
nation was wholly degenerate, until the recollection of the remnant,
Chatham and the party of the Earl of Rockingham, gives hope of the
salvation of the country.
At any rate, for more than fifteen years of his reign the king was in
the ascendant. There was no party to depose him, scarcely one strong
enough to curb him, even at times of popular indignation. He was,
therefore, as no other king had been before him, able to force the issue
upon the colonies, in spite of the protests of the few friends of
liberty. In complete ignorance of the strength of the colonists, both in
resources and in purpose, he proceeded to insist upon his rights. When
it is remembered that those rights, according to his interpretation of
them, were to tax without representation, to limit trade and
manufactures, and to interfere at will in the management of colonial
affairs, it will be seen that he was playing with fire.
The danger will appear the greater if it is considered that the
population of the colonies had not progressed, like that of England, to
days of easy tolerance. The Americans, and especially the New
Englanders, were of the same stuff as those who had beheaded Charles I,
and driven James II from his kingdom. They had among their military
officers plenty of such men as Pomeroy, who, destined to fight at Bunker
Hill, wrote from the siege of Louisburg: "It looks as if our campaign
would last long; but I am willing to stay till God's time comes to
deliver the city into our hands."[9] Many besides himself wrote, and
even spoke, in Biblical language. There were still heard, in New
England, the echoes of the "Great Awakening"; the preaching of
Whitefield and others had everywhere roused a keen religious feeling,
and the people were as likely as ever to open town-meeting with prayer,
and to go into battle with psalms.
Such, then, were the contestants in the struggle. On the one side was
the king with his privileges, backed by his Parliamentary majority, and
having at command an efficient army and navy, and a full treasury. There
was at hand no one to resist him successfully at home, none to whose
warnings he would listen. And on the other side were the colonists,
quite capable of fighting for what they knew to be the "rights of
Englishmen." Both hoped to proceed peaceably. In ignorance, each was
hoping for the impossible, for the king would not retreat, and the
colonists would not yield. As soon as each understood the other's full
intention, there would be a rupture.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] It may appear to a hasty consideration that Frothingham's "Siege of
Boston" treats the siege as an isolated military event. It must,
however, be remembered that Mr. Frothingham had treated previous events
in a preliminary volume, his "Life of Joseph Warren."
[2] "Memorial History of Boston," ii, 31.
[3] "They nourished by your indulgence? They grew up by your neglect of
them!" Barre's speech in Parliament, February, 1765.
[4] "Memorial History of Boston," i, 340, 376.
[5] See, on this point, Sabine's "American Loyalists," 7.
[6] Bancroft's "United States," ed. 1855, v, 265. References to Bancroft
will at first be to this edition.
[7] Bancroft's "United States," v, 266.
[8] Trevelyan, "American Revolution," Part i, 21.
[9] "Memorial History of Boston," ii, 116.