BOSTON BELEAGUERED
Gage and his army were at first surrounded by a mere collection of
militia companies. As the pursuit ceased on the evening of the 19th the
baffled Americans withdrew from the range of the guns of the fleet. As
well as they could they gathered into their organizations and made some
kind of a camp, sleeping either out of doors, or in convenient houses. A
watch was set at Charlestown Neck, and at Roxbury Prescott of Pepperell
and his men stood on guard against a sortie. The circuit between these
points, comprising the whole sweep of the Charles River and the Back
Bay, was likewise occupied. Headquarters were at Cambridge. On the
following days men from the more distant towns came in, until before
long the minute men and militia from the adjoining provinces, New
Hampshire, Rhode Island, and Connecticut, were upon the ground.
Some of the records are striking. The men of Nottingham, New Hampshire,
gathered by noon of the 20th and, after being joined by men of the
neighboring towns, set out at two o'clock. "At dusk," says Bancroft,
"they reached Haverhill Ferry, a distance of twenty-seven miles, having
run rather than marched; they halted in Andover only for refreshments,
and, traversing fifty-five miles in less than twenty hours, by sunrise
of the twenty-first paraded on Cambridge common."[73]
Israel Putnam, working on his farm in Brooklyn, Connecticut, received
the news the morning after the fight at Concord. He left his work at
once, and, mounting a horse, started out to rouse the militia, who, upon
mustering, chose him leader. As his idea of a leader was one who went in
front, he set out at once for Boston, ordering them to follow. He
arrived in Cambridge at the time when the Nottingham men are reported
as parading, "having ridden the same horse a hundred miles in eighteen
hours."[74]
Others followed in similar haste. Among them, Benedict Arnold first
began to attract to himself public notice. Sabine says of him, "I am
inclined to believe, that he was a finished scoundrel from early manhood
to his grave." Nevertheless, his fiery nature kept him for a time with
the Americans, and at the very outset he showed his independent spirit,
having characteristically refused to "wait for proper orders." From New
Hampshire came Stark, the hero of the frontier wars. And from all the
towns came the militia leaders, who, gathering their companies into
regiments, began the loose organization and crude subordination which
should make of the crowd an army.
In all this convergence of the militia toward Boston, there was one side
current. This set toward Marshfield, where for some weeks had been a
detachment of regulars. During this time there had been peace in the
town but strong feeling on both sides--Marshfield had already produced
a general for the king, and now was about to give one to the
provincials. There had been one or two threatening demonstrations from
neighboring towns, which now were repeated in earnest. On hearing the
news from Lexington and Concord, the militia of the neighborhood
gathered for an attack on the regulars. But they came too late. The
British were embarking at Brant Rock, hastened by the signal guns of the
Marshfield men from a neighboring hill. Yet though the regulars got
safely away, they left behind them the three hundred muskets with which
the Tory militia had drilled, and which presently formed a part of the
equipment of the Whigs before Boston. That equipment, while most
irregular, was not to be despised. By the 22d a strong army covered all
land approach to Gage, who began to consider himself between two fires.
"The regulars encamped," says one British account of the Concord
expedition, "on a place called Bunker's Hill."[75] There, under the
guns of the fleet, the tired troops found safety; and there, for all
that any one can see, it would have been wise of Gage to leave them.
With Bunker Hill at his command, and with Dorchester Heights once
occupied by his forces, Boston would be safe from all attack by the
Americans--and not till then.
But on the next morning Gage withdrew the troops to Boston. As a matter
of fact, he doubted his own strength, and greatly exaggerated the power
of the rebels, since his first sensation was a dread lest the town
should rise at his back, and his army be destroyed. Of this there was no
real chance at any time. Yet he drew in his men in order to make himself
secure, and began with the selectmen negotiations looking to his safety.
There were many in the town who were eager to leave it, and many outside
anxious to come in. The governor made the rule that for the purpose of
taking out family effects but thirty wagons might enter the town at a
time. The ruling drew from Warren the following very characteristic
letter.
CAMBRIDGE, April 20, 1775.
SIR:--The unhappy situation into which this colony is thrown gives
the greatest uneasiness to every man who regards the welfare of the
empire, or feels for the distresses of his fellow-men: but even now
much may be done to alleviate those misfortunes which cannot be
entirely remedied; and I think it of the utmost importance to us,
that our conduct be such as that the contending parties may
entirely rely upon the honor and integrity of each other for the
punctual performance of any agreement that shall be made between
them. Your Excellency, I believe, knows very well the part I have
taken in public affairs: I ever scorned disguise. I think I have
done my duty: some will think otherwise; but be assured, sir, as
far as my influence goes, everything which can reasonably be
required of us to do shall be done, and everything promised shall
be religiously performed. I should now be very glad to know from
you, sir, how many days you desire may be allowed for such as
desire to remove to Boston with their effects, and what time you
will allow the people in Boston for their removal. When I have
received that information, I will repair to congress, and hasten,
as far as I am able, the issuing a proclamation. I beg leave to
suggest, that the condition of admitting only thirty wagons at a
time into the town appears to me to be very inconvenient, and will
prevent the good effects of a proclamation intended to be issued
for encouraging all wagoners to assist in removing the effects from
Boston with all possible speed. If Your Excellency will be pleased
to take the matter into consideration, and favor me, as soon as may
be, with an answer, it will lay me under a great obligation, as it
so nearly concerns the welfare of my friends in Boston. I have many
things which I wish to say to Your Excellency, and most sincerely
wish that I had broken through the formalities which I thought due
to your rank, and freely told you all I knew or thought of public
affairs; and I must ever confess, whatever may be the event, that
you generously gave me such opening, as I now think I ought to have
embraced: but the true cause of my not doing it was the vileness
and treachery of many persons around you, who, I supposed, had
gained your entire confidence.
I am, &c.,
JOSEPH WARREN.
His Excellency General Gage.[76]
In striking contrast to the manly regret expressed by Warren in this
letter is the scene enacted that afternoon at Cambridge, where the
Committee of Safety met. Doctor Benjamin Church, one of the trusted
leaders of the Whigs, an orator on the Massacre, and a pamphleteer, was
a member of the committee, for which Warren had recently engaged Paul
Revere as messenger. Revere writes, in the letter already quoted: "I was
sitting with some, or near all that committee, in their room ... in
Cambridge. Dr. Church, all at once, started up. 'Dr. Warren,' said he,
'I am determined to go into Boston to-morrow.' (It set them all
a-staring.) Dr. Warren replied: 'Are you serious, Dr. Church? They will
hang you if they catch you in Boston.' He replied: 'I am serious, and am
determined to go at all adventures.' After a considerable conversation,
Dr. Warren said: 'If you are determined, let us make some business for
you.' They agreed that he should go and get medicine for their and our
wounded officers."[77]
Church was the first American traitor. Although possessed of all the
Whig secrets, he had for some months, perhaps longer, been in
communication with Gage. His journey to town was for the purpose of
delivering information, and for some time yet he managed to carry on the
double role. Nevertheless his information, put in the hands of Gage, did
no harm. It throws but one more light upon the incompetence of the
general that, with such information as Church now gave him, he blundered
so continually.
We learn from John Andrews' letters of the agreement made between Gage
and the town. "Yesterday," he writes on the 24th, "we had town meetings
all day, and finally concluded to deliver up _all_ our arms to the
Selectmen, on condition that the Governor would open the avenues to the
town." In this agreement the townspeople were advised by the Committee
of Safety to join. Accordingly, there were delivered to the Selectmen,
and lodged in Faneuil Hall, "1778 fire-arms, 634 pistols, 978 bayonets,
and 38 blunderbusses."[78] These were marked with their owners' names,
and were later to be restored. As soon as this delivery of arms was
effected, hundreds applied for passes to leave the town. Andrews must
have reflected the feelings of many when he wrote, "If I can escape with
the skin of my teeth, shall be glad."
There were for a few days much hurry and bustle, both of egress and of
ingress. At first as many as wished were allowed to go out, and the
chief difficulty was one of transportation. It is to be supposed that
for a while the admiral kept to his agreement to lend boats to the
refugees. There was a very considerable exodus. "Near half the
inhabitants," wrote Andrews on May 6, "have left the town already, and
another quarter, _at least_, have been waiting for a week past." Andrews
probably exaggerated, yet hundreds of the better class went out, and
about five thousand of the poor. These latter were quartered among the
different towns at public expense.
But the outflow from Boston was speedily checked. On the 6th Andrews
was still in Boston, and making up his mind to stay on account of his
property, but still anxious to secure a pass for his wife, whose
personal fears--she was an aesthetic person, an amateur artist whose
landscapes Lord Percy had admired--were greater than her interest in her
husband's safety. She did safely get away, amid the miserable procession
that her husband describes. "You'll see parents that are lucky enough to
procure papers, with bundles in one hand and a string of children in
another, wandering out of the town (with _only_ a _sufferance_ of _one_
day's permission) not knowing where they'll go." Andrews' wife went out
in a sailing vessel, but whether by land or by water she was one of the
last to go.
This was because the Tories interfered in the general removal. It
alarmed them to see so many leave: these Whigs, and especially those of
good social position, were the best hostages for the safety of the town
from assault. So they made vigorous expression of their discontent, and
to them Gage yielded. They had already formed military organizations for
his support, and when they threatened to quit the town and seek refuge
in Canada or London, the threat was too much for him. Restrictions were
at once put upon the issuing of passes, and in a very short time the
conditions imposed were so severe that it was practically impossible for
people of the better class to leave the town. "There are but very few,"
wrote Abigail Adams, "who are permitted to come out in a day; they delay
giving passes, make them wait from hour to hour, and their counsels are
not two hours together alike. One day, they shall come out with their
effects; the next day, merchandise is not effects. One day, their
household furniture is to come out; the next, only wearing apparel; the
next, Pharaoh's heart is hardened, and he refuseth to hearken to them,
and will not let the people go."[79] Nevertheless the poor were still
welcome to depart, and from time to time were even sent out in order to
relieve Gage of the necessity of feeding them.[80]
During this period a number of Tories came to Boston. These were the
families of men already in the town, or were others who felt that,
though until the present their homes had been safe for them, the future
was too doubtful. They hastened to put the British defences between them
and the Whigs. Among them the most notable was Lady Frankland of
Hopkinton, who once had been Agnes Surriage, the barefooted serving-maid
of the tavern at Marblehead. She now was a widow of nearly fifty, and
came down from Hopkinton only to be detained before the lines, and made
the subject of memoranda and petitions. The lieutenant who detained her
person was reprimanded, and by vote of the provincial congress she was
permitted to enter Boston with "seven trunks; all the beds with the
furniture to them; all the boxes and crates; a basket of chickens, and a
bag of corn; two barrels and a hamper; two horses and two chaises, and
all the articles in the chaise, excepting arms and ammunition; one
phaeton; some tongues, ham, and veal; and sundry small bundles."[81]
Evidently thinking that Lady Frankland's household was well enough
supplied, the congress did not allow to pass her seven wethers and two
pigs.
There were others who left their homes, though not to go to Boston. Of
these Judge Curwen of Salem is a type. He was considered--unjustly, he
protests--as a Tory, and finding his neighbors daily becoming "more and
more soured and malevolent against moderate men," he left Massachusetts.
In this case it was the wife who remained behind, "her apprehensions of
danger from an incensed soldiery, a people licentious and
enthusiastically mad and broken loose from all the restraints of law and
religion, being less terrible to her than a short passage on the
ocean."[82] Curwen went to Philadelphia, but finding the situation the
same, proceeded to London and there lived out the war. Many others, like
him, repaired to the capital, and formed a miserable colony, living on
hope, watching the news from home, pensioned or grudgingly maintained by
the government, and sadly feeling themselves strangers in a strange
land.
Without doubt the times were very hard for men who, like Judge Curwen,
wished to take no side, but to live at peace with all men. Of such men
there was a very large class, so large in fact that more than one Tory
sympathizer has claimed that the Revolution was fought by a minority of
the people of the colonies, who were so virulent as to force the
moderates into their ranks from dread of personal consequences. Such a
claim is weak upon its very face, and will not bear examination. Most of
the moderates were but waiting to see how the cat would jump, and when
once a preponderance of sentiment showed they speedily took sides. Had
there been in the colonies a majority desirous of a return to
allegiance, the Whig cause surely could not have survived the dark days
of the war. We can safely conclude the majority to have been in favor of
the rights of the colonies, always understanding that they desired
nothing more than they had always had since the accession of George the
Third. A man of such a type is clearly seen in John Andrews, with his
occasional fits of depression and doubt, and his impatient exclamations
against the radicals among the Whigs. Note, for instance, what he says
on the death of William Molineux, one of the prominent Boston Whigs,
whose death was a loss to the cause. "If he was too rash," remarked
Andrews, "and drove matters to an imprudent pitch, it was owing to his
natural temper; as when he was in business, he pursued it with the same
impetuous zeal. His loss is not much regretted by the more prudent and
judicious part of the community." Yet though Andrews could thus express
himself, he could again speak quite otherwise, as the remarks quoted in
this book have already shown. He doubted at times, and was petulant
against the fortune that brought him discomfort and loss, but in the
main he was stanch. Andrews was, then, a type of the moderate who threw
in his lot with his country. Judge Curwen, on the other hand, was one of
the smaller class which, in doubt and despair, withdrew to the
protection of the crown. Many of them were too old to fight; many had
not the heart to lift their hands against their neighbors. Every country
sees such men at every war. Often they may live peaceably, anguished
with doubt, and distressed for humanity. But in a civil war there is
seldom a refuge for them. It was certainly so at the Revolution. A very
few among the Tories, venerated by their neighbors, might remain
neutral; the remainder must take sides, or go. The fighting men felt
that those who were not with them were against them, and among the
stay-at-home Whigs were plenty who were willing to express the feeling.
Hence the reproaches and menaces which drove Judge Curwen from his home,
and hence the doubtful looks in Philadelphia which made him "fearful
whether, like Cain, I had not a discouraging mark upon me, or a strong
feature of toryism." Curwen crossed the water, and other moderates
slipped into Boston, to find themselves as unhappy within the town as
they had been outside, in spite of the strength which Gage was slowly
gaining.
This strength was, so far, purely defensive. Gage did not consider
himself ready to take the offensive. Those Tories who came to town
informed him of the numbers outside, and he saw very plainly the result
of sending an expedition against a militia which would melt before the
head of his column, only to attack it in flank and rear. So no action
was considered, especially as the rebels offered, so far, nothing to
strike at. Gage made himself as strong as he could, and waited
reinforcements.
His strength was partly, as we have seen, in the organization of the
Tories. Their men began at once to form themselves in companies, under
the general leadership of Timothy Ruggles, who had long been a political
tower of strength, and was now assuming military importance. The new
volunteer companies were, as we have seen, of such value to Gage that
they were able to make him break his promise to let the townspeople
leave Boston. Yet so far as is known they did nothing more in the siege
than to parade and mount guard.
Gage's chief attention was directed to fortifying. His situation was
easily defensible at certain points, and of them he first made sure. At
the south, across the passage to Roxbury, were the "lines" of which all
contemporary accounts speak. These Gage strengthened until by the 4th of
May Lieutenant Barker records that the works were almost ready for ten
twenty-four-pounders. From the Neck the western line of the peninsula of
Boston ran in a general northerly direction for about a mile and a
half; it then ran east for nearly a mile; then turning south, it finally
swept inward to the Neck. The outline had three projections, each caused
by a hill: Barton's Point at the northwest; Copp's Hill at the
northeast; and Fort Hill on the middle of the eastern side. Each of
these was fortified as soon as possible. The four points were Gage's
main defences.
[Illustration: PLAN OF THE SIEGE]
When these forts were finished, the town was by no means secure. The
forts commanded most of the northerly and easterly sides, of which the
war-ships commanded the remainder; but the whole western side of the
town, along the Common and the foot of Beacon Hill, was open to attack.
This was, roughly speaking, along the line of the present Charles
Street, prolonged into Tremont Street. The Back Bay beyond this
water-line was so shallow that no war-ship could anchor there; a night
attack, delivered in boats, might surprise the soldiers on the Common in
their barracks or their tents. In order to command the western shore,
and also to quell a possible rising in the town, Gage erected a "small
work" on Beacon Hill. Later in the siege every one of these points was
strengthened; a low hill, near the present Louisburg Square, was
protected; and redoubts were thrown up to defend the shore-line of the
Common. But the four main works, and the Beacon Hill fort, were all that
Gage was able to accomplish before Bunker Hill battle. He managed,
however, to put his army under strict military discipline, which before
the 19th of April he had not imposed on them.
From letters and diaries we get glimpses of the situation of the troops.
They were short of fresh provision, disgusted with their situation, and
at times not a little alarmed. What other unexpected qualities the
Yankees might show no one could predict. They were still, however,
regarded as low in the scale of humanity. On the fifth of May Lieutenant
Barker records the discovery of a "most shocking" plot. "It was a scheme
to cut off all the officers of the Garrison. Upon the 24th, the day we
were to keep St. George's day, the Rebels were to make a feint Attack at
night upon the Lines: a number of men were to be posted at the Lodgings
of all the Officers, and upon the Alarm Guns firing they were to put the
Officers to death as they were coming out of their houses to go to their
Barracks. What a set of Villains must they be to think of such a thing!
but there is nothing be it ever so bad that these people will stick at
to gain their ends." The horrified lieutenant ascribes to this discovery
the fact that Gage ordered the officers to sleep at barracks. It is,
however, more likely that the general paid no attention to the tale, but
thought it time for officers and men to be together.
Once more the army was shocked. A fire broke out near property owned by
Hancock, and in putting out the blaze there was discovered a chest of
bullets "in Hancock's store." The news spread rapidly, and was regarded
as another proof of the desperate nature of the Whigs.
So the army, uncomfortable and uneasy, looked for its reinforcements,
which before long began to come in. Troop-ships arrived, but the most
welcome was the _Cerberus_, with the three major-generals. The relief of
the garrison found expression in waggery; they called the generals the
three bow-wows, and circulated the doggerel:--
"Behold the Cerberus the Atlantic plow,
Her precious cargo Burgoyne, Clinton, Howe,
Bow wow wow!"
Burgoyne at this time made a special nickname for himself. Hailing a
ship as they entered the harbor, the generals learned that the army was
shut up by the provincials. "What!" cried Burgoyne. "Ten thousand
peasants keep five thousand king's troops shut up! Well, let _us_ get
in, and we'll soon find elbow-room!"[83] And Elbow-room was Burgoyne's
name for a long time thereafter.
Yet the three new generals for a while did nothing. Lieutenant Barker
regretfully records: "Tho' we have new Generals come out, yet they have
brought no more authority than we had before, which was none at all." It
is safe to assume that on learning the quality of the "peasants,"
Burgoyne was not anxious to attack them with an inferior force. The
British therefore continued to await reinforcements.
From Burgoyne's voluminous correspondence we learn his state of mind. He
had come to the country unwillingly: "I received your Majesty's commands
for America with regret," he wrote in his letter to the king, and
elsewhere records that the event was one of the most disagreeable in his
life. Nevertheless, once enlisted in the campaign, he had thrown himself
into it. Perceiving in advance how little, as junior major-general, he
would have to do, he endeavored to have himself transferred to the post
at New York, where he rightly perceived that there was much to be done.
He was in favor of attempting conciliation. Had that post at this time
been occupied by Burgoyne, his quick wit, true sympathies with the
Americans, and real abilities might have made for him a different name
in the history of America. But his attempt failed, and now, almost
inactive in his post at Boston, he was studying the situation, probing
the weakness of Gage and learning the difficulties of his position. Gage
had little money for secret service, it is true, and the provincials
were stubborn foes whose true measure Burgoyne had not yet taken,[84]
but he saw how poorly Gage had provided against the calamities which had
come upon him. Burgoyne doubted the outcome, and fretted at the
situation.
In the meanwhile the rebels had been working to make that situation
worse. Their first need was to get some semblance of order among the
troops. At the head of the Massachusetts army was Artemas Ward, a
veteran of the French wars, no longer vigorous, and never used to
independent command. He drew his authority from the Provincial Congress
of Massachusetts, which now hastily came together, and communicated with
Ward chiefly through the Committee of Safety, of one of whose meetings
we have already had a glimpse. The active head of the committee was
Warren, who kept in close touch with Ward.
Organization proceeded slowly, complicated by the fact that the other
provinces maintained separate armies. The names of some of the
commanders are still familiar. Putnam and Spencer were the heads of the
Connecticut troops; John Stark was prominent among the New Hampshire
men; while to command the Rhode Islanders came Nathanael Greene. With
praiseworthy suppression of provincial jealousies the commanders
speedily agreed to subordinate themselves to Ward, as the oldest among
them, and the head of the largest body of troops. He was regarded as
commander-in-chief, and his orders were to be observed by all. Yet the
means to communicate orders and to receive reports were long lacking.
The combined armies were far from being a unit, and if attacked could
resist little better than on the 19th, as scattered bands, and not as a
whole.
The very size of the army was uncertain. On paper there were more than
twenty thousand men; as a matter of fact there can seldom have been more
than four-fifths of that number. Of the actual total Massachusetts
provided 11,500, Connecticut 2300, New Hampshire 1200, Rhode Island
1000.[85] Further, in its variable size this was the very type of a
volunteer army, of which every man owned his equipment, clothed himself,
and considered himself still, to a large extent, his own master. Of the
thousands living within twenty-five miles of Boston, who sprang to arms
on the 19th, knowing that if they were quick they might strike the
British before night, few had the foresight to prepare themselves
properly for the campaign that was to follow. There were no commissary
stores to supply them. Their affairs at home they left just where they
stood. In the next few days many of these men went home, for the
necessary arrangement of their affairs and for more clothing. The larger
number of them returned to camp immediately, some were slower, and yet
others stayed for a longer time. Even those who joined the army after
more preparation often had business that called them home, in which case
they considered it a hardship to be denied. The officers sympathized,
especially when that business was haying. Cases occurred in which the
men on furlough were making their officers' hay, while at the same time
drawing the pay of the province. The position of the general commanding
such troops was not to be envied.
Further, military supplies were very few. In spite of the preparations
of the provincial congress, there were on hand only sixty-eight
half-barrels of powder, a scanty stock with which to begin the siege of
a military garrison. Of cannon a varying number is reported, few of
them as yet of value, for lack of shot to fit them. It was doubtless a
great relief to Ward that he was not called upon to use his cannon,
since they would have drawn too heavily upon his scanty supply of
ammunition, which could be replaced but slowly.
Altogether, the position of senior major-general was a difficult one. To
knit into an army such a mass of units, to create supplies out of
nothing, to organize a commissary and means of communication, and
maintain a firm front over a line of ten miles, these were the needs of
the situation. We need scarcely marvel that Ward, old and enfeebled,
with his hands tied by uncertain authority, could not meet them. A
genius was needed in his place, and the good fortune was that the genius
eventually came. In the meanwhile Ward, pottering at his task, depended
much on the initiative of his subordinates. The passage from the Neck to
Roxbury was now guarded by Brigadier-General John Thomas of
Marshfield,[86] who to deceive the enemy as to his numbers occasionally
marched his force of seven hundred round and round a hill. The ruse was
successful, for Lieutenant Barker wrote that "at Roxbury there must be
between 2 and 3000." Nevertheless, it is hard to believe that so
important a post was long left so slightly guarded. Thomas exercised his
men with equal profit in cutting down trees to obstruct the passage, and
in throwing up earthworks. Of other entrenchments, at this stage, we
hear little. Putnam wanted to fortify Prospect Hill, commanding the
passage from Charlestown Neck, but could not get permission. Yet the
whole country about Boston was dotted with low hills, on which might
easily be made a chain of fortifications.
Besides such work as Thomas's, for a month little was done. To be sure,
early in May a party of provincials, gathered in Connecticut and
Vermont, and headed by Ethan Allen and Benedict Arnold, took Ticonderoga
by surprise, and gained for America a fine supply of cannon. We shall
later see what was done with this artillery, but there was no present
means of transporting it to Boston, and no powder for its use, and so
there was no profit to the country save in encouragement. Until the 21st
of May nothing happened near Boston save small skirmishes, and brushes
of outposts. Here and there a floating battery of the British warped up
near land and fired a few shots, and occasionally a squad of riflemen
did a little pot-hunting on its own account. These skirmishes, except as
they accustomed the provincials to the smell of powder, had no effect on
the situation, until at last the opposing sides found that they had
something worth contending for.
Gage had in Boston no supply of fresh meat, but plenty of horses needing
hay. It occurred to him, finally, that the islands in the harbor were
plentifully stocked with sheep and cattle, and besides grew plenty of
grass. He sent, therefore, on the 21st of May, a party to bring hay from
Grape Island, near Weymouth. The Americans took the alarm, soldiers were
sent from the camp, the militia who were at home turned out, and much
long-range shooting was indulged in. "It was impossible to reach them,
for want of boats," wrote Abigail Adams, "but the sight of so many
persons, and the firing at them, prevented their getting more than three
tons of hay, though they carted much more down to the water. At last a
lighter was mustered, and a sloop from Hingham, which had six port
holes. Our men eagerly jumped on board, and put off for the island. As
soon as they perceived it, they decamped. Our people landed upon the
island, and in an instant set fire to the hay, which, with the barn, was
soon consumed,--about eighty tons, it is said."
Emboldened by this success, the provincials began to take steps to
remove from the islands the whole stock of cattle, sheep, and hay.
Though, on the 25th of May, the garrison of Boston was largely
reinforced and ships were added to the squadron, the Americans began
work boldly with the islands nearest at hand. Noddle's Island, now East
Boston, stretched within easy cannon shot of the town; it was reached
from Hog Island by means of a couple of fords, passable at low tide. In
broad day, on the 27th, the Americans occupied the islands, and were
promptly assailed by the British in a schooner and a sloop. The skirmish
grew very obstinate, but the schooner was left by the fleet to fight it
out by her own means and those of her smaller consort. As a result, when
she ran aground she was seized, stripped, and burned. On this day the
Americans drove off the stock on Hog Island, which, with their capture
of the schooner, was considered a great achievement. Three days later
the stock was driven from Noddle's Island: "a trifling property," says
Lieutenant Barker, "which we have no connexion with." This nonchalant
dismissal of five hundred sheep and lambs[87] scarcely comes well from
one who had recently recorded that his mess had "luckily got a Sheep."
Within a week other large islands, which the army and the fleet might
naturally have regarded as their own storehouses, were stripped of
livestock and hay. By these means the Americans were made still more
used to war, and according to contemporary accounts acted boldly,
running considerable risks. The total of stock saved by this means was
about twenty-two hundred, and the loss of life trifling.
But the time was coming for more serious work. Gage felt his courage
rise with his strength, and with his major-generals to back him he
planned action. But first he had to fulminate. Much irritation had been
caused by mock proclamations mysteriously appearing on the walls of the
residences of the new generals, and Gage now determined to issue one in
earnest. He called Burgoyne to his aid, and the literary general drafted
a masterpiece. It was published on the 12th of June.
Beginning "Whereas the infatuated multitudes," it proceeded in pompous
style to the statement that the rebels were adding "insult to outrage,"
for "with a preposterous parade of military arrangement, they affected
to hold the army besieged." Gage offered to pardon all who would lay
down their arms, except Samuel Adams and John Hancock, "whose offences
are of too flagitious a nature" for forgiveness.
The bombastic proclamation delighted the Tories, who hoped for results
from it. But it deeply angered the Americans. "All the records of time,"
wrote Abigail Adams,[88] "cannot produce a blacker page. Satan, when
driven from the regions of bliss, exhibited not more malice. Surely the
father of lies is superseded." The provincial congress prepared a
counter proclamation, which similarly offered amnesty to all on the
other side, "excepting only ... Thomas Gage, Samuel Graves, those
counsellors who were appointed by Mandamus and have not signified their
resignation, Jonathan Sewall, Charles Paxton, Benjamin Hallowell,[89]
and all the natives of America who went out with the British troops on
the 19th of April." We get from this an interesting glimpse of those who
most excited American resentment, but the proclamation was never issued.
More exciting events occurred to prevent it.
Gage was planning to make himself secure in Boston. Even he could not
fail to see that the heights of Charlestown and of Dorchester threatened
his army. Now that his three major-generals had come, and that his
reinforcements were arriving (the troop-ships, said Lieutenant Barker,
were "continually dropping in"), he felt strong enough to take and hold
the dangerous posts. His plan was first to seize Dorchester Heights, and
for the action was set a date--the night of the eighteenth of June. But
Gage's counsel was never well kept. While Burgoyne complained that the
British "are ignorant not only of what passes in Congress, but want
spies for the hill half a mile off," the Americans were in no such
embarrassment. They had spies at every corner, and--we may
suppose--listeners at many a door. Gage had already arrested men
supposed to have been signalling from steeples. We do not know how the
news got through on this occasion; at any rate the Americans were
informed as early as the 13th.[90]
The chiefs of the provincial army felt that they were called upon to
act. In the seven weeks of the siege they had to some degree tested the
mettle of their men, and now believed they could be depended on to keep
together against an attack. The troops had, on one occasion, made an
expedition to Charlestown, which lay practically deserted on its
peninsula, as if conscious of the fate which was to overtake it. On the
13th of May, Putnam, to give his men confidence, marched his command,
some twenty-two hundred men, into the town, over Bunker and Breed's
Hills, where some of them were soon to lay down their lives, along the
water-front close by the British shipping, and out of the town once
more. "It was," wrote Lieutenant Barker, "expected the Body at Charles
Town wou'd have fired on the Somerset, at least it was wished for, as
she had everything ready for Action, and must have destroyed great
numbers of them, besides putting the Town in Ashes." But no powder was
burned.
Now it was destined that Charlestown should smell powder enough. On
learning the news of Gage's projected move, the Committee of Safety
called for an accounting of the condition and supplies of the various
regiments, advised an increase in the army, recommended that all persons
go armed, even to church, and finally on the 15th of June took the
decisive step of advising the seizure of Bunker Hill. "And as the
particular situation of Dorchester Neck is unknown to this Committee,
they advise that the council of war take and pursue such steps
respecting the same, as to them shall appear to be for the security of
this colony."
Thus inadequate was still the American military organization: Ward was
too old and too weak to assume actual leadership, and we find two
consultative bodies advising each other, with no responsible head. Up to
this time the Massachusetts congress had hoped that the second
Continental Congress, now in session in Philadelphia, would adopt the
army as its own and send it a general; but so far no answer had come to
their requests. Nevertheless, even with this deficient organization
something was effected. A detachment was made up, consisting on paper of
fifteen hundred men, but in fact of about twelve hundred. These were
placed under the command of Colonel William Prescott of Pepperell, a
veteran of Louisburg and an excellent soldier. Assembling on Cambridge
Common on the night of the 16th, "after prayer by President Langdon,
they marched to Bunker Hill."[91]
FOOTNOTES:
[73] Bancroft, iv, 535.
[74] Bancroft, iv, 536.
[75] "Memorial History of Boston," iii, 15.
[76] Frothingham's "Warren," 467.
[77] Revere's narrative.
[78] Frothingham's "Siege," 95.
[79] "Familiar Letters of John and Abigail Adams," 54.
[80] Lieutenant Barker makes a suggestion that must have been popular
among the officers. "I wonder the G----l will allow any of their people
to quit the Town till they return the Prisoners; one wou'd think he
might get 'em if he'd try."
[81] "Memorial History of Boston," iii, 77.
[82] Curwen's "Journal," 25.
[83] Current newspapers, quoted in Frothingham's "Siege," 114.
[84] "There was hardly a leading man among the rebels, in council, or in
the field, but at a proper time, and by proper management, might have
been bought."--BURGOYNE to Lord Rochfort, June, 1775. Fonblanque's
"Burgoyne," 149-150.
[85] Frothingham's "Siege," 101.
[86] "And yet to-day, if you should ask ten Boston men, 'Who was Artemas
Ward?' nine would say he was an amusing showman. If you asked 'Who was
John Thomas?' nine would say he was a flunky commemorated by
Thackeray."--E. E. HALE, "Memorial History of Boston," iii, 100.
[87] Frothingham's "Siege," 110.
[88] Adams Letters, p. 64.
[89] Graves was the admiral, Sewall the attorney-general, and Paxton and
Hallowell were commissioners of customs.
[90] Frothingham's "Siege," 116.
[91] Inscription in Cambridge.