THE WINTER IN BOSTON
When the British army went into winter quarters it was nearly at the end
of its difficulties concerning food. Supplies from England had been very
meagre, and the occasional raids had provided poorly for the wants of
the town. But since October matters had improved, largely because of the
criticism of the English Whigs in Parliament. These pointed out the
inactivity of the troops, the humiliation of the situation, the sickness
and want in Boston. In order that nothing should be left undone to
remedy the last, the perplexed ministry spent money lavishly to
provision its garrison. Five thousand oxen, fourteen thousand sheep,
with a great number of hogs, were purchased, and shipped alive.
Vegetables, preserved by a new process, were bought in quantities; wheat
and flour were collected; wood, coal, hay, and other fodder, with beer,
porter, rum, Geneva, and the more innocent vinegar, were generously
provided. To be sure, the commissions on all these purchases provided
fortunes for the relatives of those in office, and the ship-owners found
excuses for setting sail as late as possible, in order to increase the
hire of their craft. As a result, much of the vast expense--some six
hundred thousand pounds for provisions alone--was wasted. Contrary gales
detained the ships; the live stock died by wholesale, and was thrown
overboard; the vegetables spoiled; and numbers of the ships were lost
outright. Others, arriving without convoy at the American coast, were
captured by the watchful privateers. But of such vast supplies enough
reached Boston to relieve the worst distresses of the inhabitants.
Though the poorer of the Whigs had either to sign humiliating
declarations in order to share in the rations of the troops, or else to
continue on meagre fare, there was enough in the general market for the
well-to-do among them to supply themselves. John Andrews, for instance,
though he lived at the rate of six or seven hundred sterling a year,
after October ate scarcely three meals of salt meat, "for I was
determined to eat fresh provissions, while it was to be got, let it cost
what it would."
There was, however, for months a great shortage of fuel. As the winter
set in early, and with severity, large quantities were needed, and there
was little on hand. The troops, of their own initiative, had already,
even in the summer, begun to make depredations on private property,
stealing gates and breaking up fences. This the commanders endeavored to
stop, but took the hint and did the same by official condemnation. As so
many of the inhabitants had left the town, the abandoned houses were
torn down for fuel. When the winter came, the troops again began on
their own account to steal wood. Howe threatened to hang the next man
caught in the act, but still was forced to follow the example.
In choosing buildings for destruction, it was very natural to select
Whig property. Perhaps the harshest assault on provincial sentiment had
been made in summer, when during August Liberty Tree was felled. The
Whigs felt very indignant, but took a peculiar pleasure in the
reflection that during the operation a soldier had been accidentally
killed. In the various poems written on the occasion the wretch's soul
was unanimously consigned to Hades. It was besides remarked that the
genuine tree of liberty, of which this had been but a symbol, had now
grown so great as to overshadow the continent.
Besides Liberty Tree, the property of leading Whigs suffered, "My house
and barn," writes Newell the selectman, on the 16th of November, "pulled
down by order of General Robinson." Leach the schoolmaster, whose
imprisonment had made him a marked man, had a hard fight to save his
property. On Christmas Day he found a party of soldiers destroying his
wharf, which had been allotted, as was the custom, to one of the
regiments, in this case the light dragoons. In spite of his efforts
Leach was not able to stop this destruction, as evidently in the present
state of the town there was no use for wharves. But when his schoolhouse
was threatened he carried the matter to headquarters. Howe said Leach
had corresponded with the people without. "I denied the charge....
Finally I told him, as an Englishman, and a subject of the King's, I
claimed protection of my property; and if my House was pulled down, I
would follow him to England, or to China, for satisfaction. I expected
he would get angry, and order me under Guard, or else to Gaol again.
However, in General he behaved kindly." Howe referred him to his
subordinates, who delayed giving orders until the soldiers had already
broken into the schoolhouse. With much resolution Leach got them from
the house and stood on guard at the door until by referring to Howe the
schoolhouse was saved. But Leach had meanwhile lost "valuable Books and
Instruments, Drawings, Colours, Brushes, several curious Optick
Glasses, and sundry things of Value that I brought from India and China,
that I cannot replace for money."[147]
At this time was pulled down the Old North Church, the steeple of the
West Church, and John Winthrop's house, one of the oldest landmarks in
the town. Over in Charlestown the troops used for fuel the deserted
houses that had not been consumed on the 17th of June. At one time they
were demolishing a mill near the American lines, but the provincials
drove them away and presently burnt the mill. At another time, by a
similar endeavor to lessen the British supply of fuel, there was brought
about one of the more amusing incidents of the siege.
The officers in Boston, having little active work to do, were
endeavoring to forget the irksomeness and the humiliation of their
situation. Through no fault of their own the position was a hard one;
they had boasted, and were not allowed to make good their vainglory;
they had despised their adversaries, and were cooped up in a provincial
town. In letters home they uneasily endeavored to explain their
inaction; by return mail they learned what the wits of London had to say
of both them and the country. "Mrs. Brittania," remarked Horace Walpole,
"orders her Senate to proclaim America a continent of cowards, and vote
it should be starved, unless it would drink tea with her. She sends her
only army to be besieged in one of her towns, and half her fleet to
besiege the _terra firma_; but orders her army to do nothing, in hopes
that the American Senate in Philadelphia will be so frightened at the
British army being besieged in Boston that it will sue for peace." There
was sting in these words, but no remedy for the smart.
In order to forget such flings, and to banish the consideration of
crowded quarters, irregular rations (for there still were periods of
lean supply), slow pay, and inaction, the officers tried to kill time.
The cavalry regiments searched for a means of exercising their horses,
and Burgoyne is credited with the solution of their problem. Newell
recorded in his journal how his church, after being profaned by
Morrison, was examined by the colonel of the light horse, to see if the
building was available for a riding-school. "But when it was considered
that the Pillars must be taken away, which would bring down the roof,
they altered their mind--so that the Pillars saved us."
A more notable building had to suffer instead. The Old South was taken
for the purpose. The furnishings were torn out, and Deacon Hubbard's
carved pew was carted away to be used as a hog-sty. The dismantled
church was transformed into a riding-ring, with tanbark on the floor,
and a leaping-bar. One of the galleries was fitted up for a social
meeting-place; the remainder were used for spectators, for whose comfort
was put in a stove into which disappeared for kindling many of the books
and manuscripts stored in the building. For the rest of the siege the
Old South, once so formidable, was a centre of Tory fashion.
Burgoyne was credited, also, with the design of putting an almost
equally sacred edifice to a purpose still more horrifying to the good
Calvinists of Boston. Faneuil Hall, the cradle of liberty, was made a
theatre. Various plays were performed, and the amateurs were even so
ambitious as to attempt the tragedies of _Zara_ and _Tamerlane_. For the
latter performance Burgoyne wrote a prologue and epilogue, which were
spoken by Lord Rawdon, who had distinguished himself at Bunker Hill, and
"a young lady ten years old." But the great event of the season was to
be the production of a farce called the _Blockade of Boston_. It was
this performance which the Americans interrupted, to the perennial
satisfaction of all students of local history.
The play was to be performed on a January night. The _Busy Body_ had
just been given, and the curtain rose on the farce, presenting a view of
the American camp, and the figure of Washington absurdly burlesqued in
uniform, wig, and rusty sword. At this moment a sergeant suddenly
appeared on the stage, calling out, "The Yankees are attacking our
works on Bunker's Hill!" Conceiving this spirited action a part of the
play, the audience began to applaud. But the sergeant vigorously
repeated his statement, the sounds of distant cannonading were heard,
and an aide called out, "Officers, to your posts!" The officers
responded in all haste, and the performance was over for the evening.
The reason for this interruption was that Washington had despatched a
party to burn some of the houses still standing in Charlestown. The
success of the attempt had caused the cannonading, and the consequent
interruption of the play. No historian of the siege has failed to remark
that the Whig ladies had the laugh of their Tory sisters, forced to
return without their escorts.
A month before this incident, on the 5th of December, Burgoyne had
sailed for home, recalled largely at his own instance, but already under
consideration for the disastrous expedition from Canada. He did not
return to Boston until 1777, when he came as a prisoner. It was when
entering the town that he learned that the townspeople had long memories
for his real or ascribed indignity to the Old South, for when he
remarked to a friend upon the Province House, the headquarters during
the siege, a voice from the crowd reminded him that the riding-school
was close at hand. Since on the same occasion an old lady loudly
beseeched her neighbors to "give the general elbow-room," Boston may be
said to have taken its mild revenge on him.
Theatrical performances, balls, and parties were the amusements of the
officers at this period of the siege, and persons of fashion doubtless
were pleasantly situated. It was not so comfortable for the troops and
their dependents, as we have already seen. The lack of fuel and
consequent depredations on property led to plundering of a different
kind, and petty thievery, which Howe put down with a stern hand. Heavy
floggings were meted out to delinquents, and a wife of one of the
privates was even sentenced to public whipping for receiving stolen
goods. While there were no true horrors at this siege, there was thus
much roughness of conduct among the soldiery, and of this the Whigs were
sure to be the victims. With the example of Leach and Lovell before
their eyes, the wiser among the provincials spoke cannily and walked
softly, and attracted as little attention as possible. But among the
poorer class there was much distress for lack of food and fuel, for even
when the troops had plenty, it was difficult for the patriots to buy.
With their strength somewhat depleted, it was not to be wondered at that
the poorer class was visited by smallpox. The epidemic was a mild one,
and few persons died, but the visitation created great uneasiness. To
lessen his burden, during the winter Howe sent out several companies of
the poorer folk from the town landing them at Point Shirley, with the
certainty that the Americans would care for them. But his action called
down much reproach, and he was accused of sending out persons with the
smallpox, in order to infect the besieging army. It was even charged
that he had purposely inoculated some of the evicted. This, of course,
is not to be believed; but it is curious to find the British at last
taking satisfaction in the epidemic, since it would prevent Washington
from attacking.
Gradually a feeling of security came over the besieged town. Admiral
Graves had been recalled, and Shuldham took his place. The lighthouse
was rebuilt and guarded. Howe felt strong enough to detach a squadron
from the fleet in order to carry Clinton with a body of troops to the
southward. This was the expedition that made the unsuccessful attack
upon Charleston. Howe sent other vessels to the northern provinces and
the West Indies, which brought in supplies. The store-ships from England
continued to come in, and though Howe was vexed and at times alarmed by
the loss of the valuable stores that fell into Washington's hands, on
the whole he felt very strong. So much fuel arrived that in January the
destruction of houses and wharves was stopped, and the men who had been
on duty for the purpose were commanded to make themselves presentable.
Neatness was a hobby with Howe, and he enforced it on his men, though at
times the untidiness of his troops seems to have been remarkable.[148]
There are two expressions which show the confidence entertained at this
period, not only by the garrison at large, but by the British general.
One Crean Brush had made himself a place in the service, not in a
military capacity, but as a useful hanger on. In January, anticipating
the result of the spring campaign, he offered to raise a body of
volunteers, not less than three hundred, with which he proposed, after
the "subduction of the main body of the rebel force," to keep order
along the Connecticut, and to maintain communication westward with Lake
Champlain. There is no record that Howe took him at his word, but he
well might have done so, so completely did he misjudge the situation.
For about the same time he wrote to Lord Dartmouth that he was not
apprehending any attempt by Washington, "by surprise or otherwise."[149]
But the surprise came. On the night of the second of March the American
batteries, so long silent, began to play. From Cobble Hill, Lechmere
Point, and Lamb's Dam in Roxbury, the three redoubts nearest to Boston,
the Americans bombarded the town, and Howe's gunners instantly
responded. The American fire was ineffective. "Our people," wrote David
How, "splet _the Congress_ the Third Time that they fired it." Other
heavy mortars were likewise burst, doubtless owing to the inexperience
of the gunners. But Washington's purpose, to "divert the attention" of
the British from Dorchester, was fulfilled. They had no eyes save for
the opposing batteries. For three nights the diversion continued; on the
4th it was, wrote Newell, "a most terrible bombardment and cannonade,
on both sides, as if heaven and earth were engaged." At Braintree, miles
away, Abigail Adams listened to the roar, and recorded the rattling of
the windows, and the continual jar of the house. "At six in the
morning," she writes, "there was quiet," but the quiet was from
satisfaction on the one side, and amazement on the other.
[Illustration: TOWER ON DORCHESTER HEIGHTS COMMEMORATING THE EVACUATION
OF BOSTON]
On the two heights of Dorchester, commanding the town and the harbor,
stood two American redoubts, larger and stronger than the redoubt at
Breed's Hill. On lesser elevations stood smaller works. Seen from
below, Washington's preparations seemed complete.
All that moonlit night, while the cannonade proceeded, the Americans had
been busy. Everything had been prepared: the forts were staked out, the
carts were loaded, the men were ready. As soon as the cannonade began,
the men and carts were set in motion; the road was strewn with hay, and
bales were piled to screen the carts as they passed to and fro. The
troops worked with a will, first placing fascines in chandeliers to form
the outlines of their works, and then covering them with earth. There is
no better contemporary account given than in the diary of an unnamed
officer, published some ninety years later.[150] He wrote:--
"A little before sunset marched off from Roxbury; but for more than half
a mile before we came to Dorchester lines,[151] we overtook teams in
great plenty, nor did we find any vacancy till we came to the lines; in
some places they were so wedged in together, we were obliged to leave
the road to get forward; we reached the lines at seven o'clock, where we
waited half an hour for orders, when a signal was given and the
cannonade began at Lamb's fort, and was immediately answered by a very
warm fire from the enemy's lines; a brisk fire between N. Boston and our
fortifications on Cambridge side, began soon after. It was supposed
there was a thousand shot hove this night, by both armies, more than
three fourths of which were sent from Boston.[152] Our party, consisting
of about 2400 men, with 300 teams, were crossing the marsh, onto the
Neck, which together with a fresh breeze from the S. W.[153] concealed
us from the enemy till they could see our works by daylight. The
division to which I was assigned, commanded by Col. Whitcomb, was
ordered onto the northerly hill, where in one hour's time we had a fort
enclosed, with fascines placed in shandelears; and we immediately
employed as many men at intrenching as could be advantageously used for
that purpose. A larger party was assigned to the high hill, where they
erected a larger fort, built much in the same manner as ours. There were
four other smaller forts and batteries erected this night on other
eminences on the Neck."[154]
It is not to be wondered that the British, on making the discovery,
"seemed to be in great confusion."[155] The labor that had been expended
appeared prodigious. Washington himself was satisfied with the works;
he knew them to be secure against the British cannon. To Howe the
achievement was amazing, and he is said to have exclaimed that his whole
army could not have done as much in a month. He wrote to Lord Dartmouth
that the rebels must have employed at least twelve thousand men, whereas
it was accomplished by two details of little more than two thousand men
each. But in those days the British soldier was a poor hand with a
shovel, while the Americans were all farmers. Nevertheless it is worth
noting the difference in organization displayed in the taking of
Dorchester and in the earlier seizure of Breed's Hill. Instead of a
small detachment sent to unsurveyed ground, and unaided during both the
work and the battle, Washington had his ground prepared,[156] his
detachments ready, and his cannon in reserve to send upon the Heights.
In the morning the redoubts, presenting the appearance of finished
fortifications, were manned with fresh men.
Howe called at once a council of war. To it the admiral was summoned,
and declared positively that his fleet was at the mercy of the rebels.
There was but one opinion as to the situation: the honor of the army was
at stake, and in addition the military reputation of the general. It was
promptly decided to storm the works.
For this purpose twenty-four hundred men were sent to the Castle, which
lay close under the Heights to the east, with but a narrow channel
between. The command of these men was given to Lord Percy, who hoped now
for the distinction which illness had prevented his achieving at Bunker
Hill. The attack was to be made at night. Within the lines at Boston
Neck was to be gathered another force of troops, which was to second the
attack from that direction. This last, in the face of the strong
batteries at Roxbury, was a forlorn hope; according to Lieutenant Barker
the troops were not to load, but to advance with fixed bayonets, and may
have hoped to carry the works by surprise.
Washington would have welcomed the main attack. During the day his
works were strengthened and his men reinforced. Orchards had been cut
down to serve as abattis, and barrels of earth were ready to roll down
upon the British. The men were confident; they were commanded by Thomas,
one of the best of the brigadiers, and Washington was there in person
with a reminder that put courage into the breast of every American. For
the day which he had chosen to decide the fate of Boston was the fifth
of March, the anniversary of the Massacre.
Besides all this, Washington had another weapon in reserve. In the
Charles River, out of sight of Boston, were his two floating batteries
and his bateaux filled with soldiers. They were under Putnam, Sullivan,
and Greene; and at a given signal, if Washington deemed the opportunity
good, they were to cross the Back Bay and attack the town.--Truly the
preparations were for such fighting as had never been seen in America.
But they came to naught, for nature took a hand in the struggle.
Mercifully, since amid the projected battles the town itself might have
perished with its inhabitants, there sprang up a gale. "A Hurrycane,"
wrote Newell, "or terrible sudden storm." The violence of the wind was
such that no boat could live in the channel between the Castle and
Dorchester, two of Percy's transports were driven ashore, and the attack
was postponed. The next day the wind continued, accompanied by heavy
rain. The Americans continued to labor on their works, until to every
eye they were impregnable by any force that Howe might send against
them. Howe called another council, and asked it to concur in his
intention to evacuate the town. There was no other decision to make, and
on the 6th of March[157] the orders were given.
"Blessed be God," wrote Newell, "our redemption draws nigh."
FOOTNOTES:
[147] "N. E. Hist. and Gen. Register," 1865, 313-314.
[148] See his general order enumerating faults, in Sparks, "Writings of
Washington," iii, 236, note.
[149] See Frothingham's "Siege," 294-295.
[150] See the _Historical Magazine_ for 1864, 328-329.
[151] These were a line of fortifications facing Dorchester, made
earlier in the siege.
[152] According to Knox's return, given in Frothingham's "Siege," 298,
footnote, the Americans threw only 144 shot and 13 shells. The British
seem to have needed only an occasional stimulus.
[153] This breeze would bring the smoke of the Roxbury cannonade between
the Heights and Boston.
[154] It seems generally to be considered that there was but one fort at
Dorchester. The statement in the text is confirmed by the Revolutionary
Journal of Colonel Baldwin, one of the engineers. "Six works thrown up
this night at different places on the Hills & high ground a very Great
work for one Night."
[155] Washington's letter to Hancock, "Writings," iii, 304.
[156] Colonel Baldwin records that he was on the ground in the
afternoon.
[157] Frothingham says the 7th. But see the diaries of Barker
(_Atlantic_, 39, 553) and Newell (Mass. Hist. Soc. Coll., 1, Series 4,
272).