BUNKER'S HILL.
The excitement caused by the news of the fight at Concord was intense
and, as it spread through the colonies, the men everywhere rushed to
arms. The fray at Lexington was represented as a wanton outrage, and
the fact wholly ignored that the colonists concerned in it were drawn
up in arms to oppose the passage of the king's troops, who were
marching on their legitimate duty of seizing arms and ammunition
collected for the purpose of warring against the king. The colonial
orators and newspaper writers affirmed then, as they have affirmed
since, that, up to the day of Lexington, no one had a thought of
firing a shot against the Government. A more barefaced misstatement
was never made. Men do not carry off cannon by scores, and accumulate
everywhere great stores of warlike ammunition, without a thought of
fighting. The colonists commenced the war by assembling in arms to
oppose the progress of British troops obeying the orders of the
Government. It matters not a whit on which side the first shot was
fired. American troops have, many times since that event, fired upon
rioters in the streets, under circumstances no stronger than those
which brought on the fight at Lexington.
From all parts of New England the militia and volunteers poured in,
and in three days after the fight, twenty thousand armed men were
encamped between the rivers Mystic and Roxburgh, thus besieging
Boston. They at once set to work throwing up formidable earthworks,
the English troops remaining within their intrenchments across the
neck of land joining Boston with the mainland.
The streets of Boston were crowded with an excited populace when
Captain Wilson and his party rode into it at two in the morning. No
one thought of going to bed, and all were excited to the last degree
at the news of the battle. All sorts of reports prevailed. On the
colonial side it was affirmed that the British, in their retreat, had
shot down women and children; while the soldiers affirmed that the
colonists had scalped many of their number who fell in the fight. The
latter statement was officially made by Lord Percy in his report of
the engagement.
Captain Wilson rode direct to the house of his wife's friends. They
were still up, and were delighted to see Mary Wilson, for such
exaggerated reports had been received of the fight that they were
alarmed for her safety. They belonged to the moderate party, who saw
that there were faults on both sides and regretted bitterly both the
obstinacy of the English Parliament in attempting to coerce the
colonists and the determination of the latter to oppose, by force of
arms, the legitimate rights of the mother country.
Until the morning the events of the preceding day were talked over; a
few hours' repose was then taken, after which Captain Wilson went to
the headquarters of General Gage and offered his services. Although
Boston was the headquarters of the disaffected party, no less than
two hundred men came forward as volunteers in the king's service, and
Captain Wilson was at once appointed to the command of a company of
fifty men. Before leaving the army he had taken part in several
expeditions against the Indians, and his knowledge of forest warfare
rendered him a valuable acquisition. Boston was but poorly
provisioned, and, as upon the day when the news of Lexington reached
New York two vessels laden with flour for the use of the troops at
Boston were seized by the colonists and many other supplies cut off,
the danger of the place being starved out was considerable. General
Gage, therefore, offered no opposition to the exit from the city of
those who wished to avoid the horror of a siege, and a considerable
portion of the population made their way through to the rebel lines.
Every day brought news of fresh risings throughout the country; the
governors of the various provinces were powerless; small garrisons of
English troops were disarmed and made prisoners; and the fortress of
Ticonderoga, held only by fifty men, was captured by the Americans
without resistance. In one month after the first shot was fired the
whole of the American colonies were in rebellion.
The news was received in England with astonishment and sorrow. Great
concessions had been made by Parliament, but the news had reached
America too late to avoid hostilities. Public opinion was divided;
many were in favor of granting at once all that the colonists
demanded, and many officers of rank and position resigned their
commissions rather than fight against the Americans. The division,
indeed, was almost as general and complete as it had been in the time
of our own civil war. In London the feeling in favor of the colonists
was strong, but in the country generally the determination to repress
the rising was in the ascendant. The colonists had, with great
shrewdness, dispatched a fast-sailing ship to Europe upon the day
following the battle of Lexington, giving their account of the
affair, and representing it as a massacre of defenseless colonists by
British troops; and the story thus told excited a sympathy which
would not, perhaps, have been extended to them had the real facts of
the case been known. Representatives from all the colonies met at
Philadelphia to organize the national resistance; but as yet,
although many of the bolder spirits spoke of altogether throwing off
allegiance to England, no resolution was proposed to that effect.
For the first six weeks after his arrival at Boston, Captain Wilson
was engaged in drilling his company. Harold was, of course, attached
to it, and entered with ardor upon his duties. Captain Wilson did not
attempt to form his men into a band of regular soldiers; accuracy of
movement and regularity of drill would be of little avail in the
warfare in which they were likely to be engaged. Accuracy in
shooting, quickness in taking cover, and steadiness in carrying out
any general orders were the principal objects to be attained. Most of
the men had already taken part in frontier warfare. The majority of
them were gentlemen--Englishmen who, like their captain, had come out
from home and purchased small estates in the country. The discipline,
therefore, was not strict, and, off duty, all were on terms of
equality.
Toward the end of May and beginning of June considerable
re-enforcements arrived from England, and, as a step preparatory to
offensive measures, General Gage, on June 12, issued a proclamation
offering, in his Majesty's name, a free pardon to all who should
forthwith lay down their arms, John Hancock and General Adams only
excepted, and threatening with punishment all who should delay to
avail themselves of the offer. This proclamation had no effect
whatever.
Near the peninsula of Boston, on the north, and separated from it by
the Charles River, which is navigable and about the breadth of the
Thames at London Bridge, is another neck of land called the Peninsula
of Charlestown. On the north bank, opposite Boston, lies the town of
Charlestown, behind which, in the center of the peninsula, rises an
eminence called Bunker's Hill. Bunker's Hill is sufficiently high to
overlook any part of Boston and near enough to be within cannon-shot.
This hill was unoccupied by either party, and about this time the
Americans, hearing that General Gage had come to a determination to
fortify it, resolved to defeat his resolution by being the first to
occupy it.
About nine in the evening of June 16 a detachment from the colonial
army, one thousand strong, under the command of Colonel Prescott,
moved along the Charlestown road and took up a position on a shoulder
of Bunker's Hill, which was known as Breed's Hill, just above the
town of Charlestown. They reached this position at midnight. Each man
carried a pick and shovel, and all night they worked vigorously in
intrenching the position. Not a word was spoken, and the watch on
board the men-of-war in the harbor were ignorant of what was going on
so near at hand. At daybreak the alarm was given, and the _Lively_
opened a cannonade upon the redoubt. A battery of guns was placed on
Copp's Hill, behind Boston, distant twelve hundred yards from the
works, and this, also, opened fire. The Americans continued their
work, throwing up fresh intrenchments; and, singularly, only one man
was killed by the fire from the ships and redoubt. A breastwork was
carried down the hill to the flat ground which, intersected by
fences, stretched away to the Mystic. By nine o'clock they had
completed their intrenchments.
Prescott sent off for re-enforcements, but there was little harmony
among the colonial troops. Disputes between the contingents of the
various provinces were common; there was no head of sufficient
authority to enforce his orders upon the whole; and a long delay took
place before the re-enforcements were sent forward.
In the meantime the English had been preparing to attack the
position. The Fifth, Thirty-eighth, Forty-third, and Fifty-second
regiments, with ten companies of the grenadiers and ten of the light
infantry, with a proportion of field artillery, embarked in boats,
and, crossing the harbor, landed on the outward side of the
peninsula, near the Mystic, with a view of outflanking the American
position and surrounding them. The force was under the command of
Major General Howe, under whom was Brigadier General Piggott.
Upon seeing the strength of the American position, General Howe
halted, and sent back for further re-enforcements. The Americans
improved the time thus given them by forming a breastwork in front of
an old ditch. Here there was a post-and-rail fence. They ran up
another by the side of this and filled the space between the two with
the new-mown hay, which, cut only the day before, lay thickly over
the meadows.
[Illustration: Plan of the Action at Bunkers Hill, on the 17th of
June 1775.]
Two battalions were sent across to re-enforce Howe, while large
re-enforcements, with six guns, arrived to the assistance of
Prescott. The English had now a force consisting, according to
different authorities, of between 2000 and 2500 men. The colonial
force is also variously estimated, and had the advantage both in
position and in the protection of their intrenchments, while the
British had to march across open ground. As individual shots the
colonists were immensely superior, but the British had the advantages
given by drill and discipline.
The English lines advanced in good order, steadily and slowly, the
artillery covering them by their fire. Presently the troops opened
fire, but the distance was too great and they did but little
execution. Encumbered with their knapsacks they ascended the steep
hill toward the redoubt with difficulty, covered, as it was, by grass
reaching to the knees. The colonists did not fire a shot until the
English line had reached a point about one hundred and fifty yards
from the intrenchments. Then Prescott gave the order, and from the
redoubt and the long line of intrenchments flanking it flashed a line
of fire. Each man had taken a steady aim with his rifle resting on
the earthwork before him, and so deadly was the fire that nearly the
whole front line of the British fell. For ten minutes the rest stood
with dogged courage, firing at the hidden foe, but these, sheltered
while they loaded and only exposing themselves momentarily while they
raised their heads above the parapets to fire, did such deadly
execution that the remnant of the British fell back to the foot of
the hill.
While this force, which was under the command of General Pigott, had
been engaged, another division under Howe himself moved against the
rail fence. The combat was a repetition of that which had taken place
on the hill. Here the Americans reserved their fire until the enemy
were close; then, with their muskets resting on the rails, they
poured in a deadly fire, and, after in vain trying to stand their
ground, the troops fell back to the shore.
Captain Wilson was standing with Harold on Copp's Hill watching the
engagement.
"What beautiful order they go in!" Harold said, looking admiringly at
the long lines of red-coated soldiers.
"It is very pretty," Captain Wilson said sadly, "and may do in
regular warfare; but I tell you, Harold, that sort of thing won't do
here. There is scarce a man carrying a gun behind those intrenchments
who cannot with certainty hit a bull's-eye at one hundred and fifty
yards. It is simply murder, taking the men up in regular order
against such a foe sheltered by earthworks."
At this moment the long line of fire darted out from the American
intrenchments.
"Look there!" Captain Wilson cried in a pained voice. "The front line
is nearly swept away! Do you see them lying almost in an unbroken
line on the hillside? I tell you, Harold, it is hopeless to look for
success if we fight in this way. The bravest men in the world could
not stand such a fire as that."
"What will be done now?" Harold asked as the men stood huddled upon
the shore.
"They will try again," Captain Wilson said. "Look at the officers
running about among them and getting them into order."
In a quarter of an hour the British again advanced both toward the
redoubt and the grass fence. As before the Americans withheld their
fire, and this time until the troops were far closer than before, and
the result was even more disastrous. Some of the grenadier and light
infantry companies who led lost three-fourths, others nine-tenths of
their men. Again the British troops recoiled from that terrible fire.
General Howe and his officers exerted themselves to the utmost to
restore order when the troops again reached the shore, and the men
gallantly replied to their exhortations. Almost impossible as the
task appeared, they prepared to undertake it for the third time. This
time a small force only was directed to move against the grass fence,
while the main body, under Howe, were to attack the redoubt on the
hill.
Knapsacks were taken off and thrown down, and each man nerved himself
to conquer or die. The ships in the harbor prepared the way by
opening a heavy cannonade. General Clinton, who was watching the
battle from Copp's Hill, ran down to the shore, rowed across the
harbor, and put himself at the head of two battalions. Then, with
loud cheers, the troops again sprang up the ascent. The American
ammunition was running short, many of the men not having more than
three or four rounds left, and this time they held their fire until
the British troops were within twenty yards. These had not fired a
shot, the order being that there was to be no pause, but that the
redoubt was to be carried with the bayonet. For a moment they wavered
when the deadly volley was poured in upon them. Then, with a cheer,
they rushed at the intrenchments. All those who first mounted were
shot down by the defenders, but the troops would not be denied, and,
pouring over the earthworks leaped down upon the enemy.
For a few minutes there was a hand-to-hand fight, the Americans using
the butt-ends of their muskets, the English their bayonets. The
soldiers were exhausted with the climb up the hill and their exertions
under a blazing sun, and the great majority of the defenders of the
redoubt were, therefore, enabled to retreat unharmed, as, fresh and
active, they were able to outrun their tired opponents, and as the
balls served out to the English field-pieces were too large, the
artillery were unable to come into action.
The colonists at the rail fence maintained their position against the
small force sent against them till the main body at the redoubt had
made their escape. The British were unable to continue the pursuit
beyond the isthmus.
In the whole history of the British army there is no record of a more
gallant feat than the capture of Bunker's Hill, and few troops in the
world would, after two bloody repulses, have moved up the third time
to assail such a position, defended by men so trained to the use of
the rifle. Ten hundred and fifty-four men, or nearly half their
number, were killed and wounded, among whom were 83 officers. In few
battles ever fought was the proportion of casualties to the number
engaged so great. The Americans fought bravely, but the extraordinary
praise bestowed upon them for their valor appears misplaced. Their
position was one of great strength, and the absence of drill was of
no consequence whatever in such an engagement. They were perfectly
sheltered from the enemy's fire while engaged in calmly shooting him
down, and their loss, up to the moment when the British rushed among
them, was altogether insignificant. Their casualties took place after
the position was stormed and on their retreat along the peninsula,
and amounted in all to 145 killed and captured and 304 wounded. It
may be said that both sides fought well; but, from the circumstances
under which they fought, the highest credit is due to the victors.
The battle, however, though won by the English, was a moral triumph
for the Americans, and the British Parliament should at once have
given up the contest. It was, from the first, absolutely certain that
the Americans, with their immense superiority in numbers, could, if
they were only willing to fight, hold their vast country against the
British troops, fighting with a base thousands of miles away. The
battle of Bunker's Hill showed that they were so willing--that they
could fight sternly and bravely: and this point once established, it
was little short of madness for the English government to continue
the contest. They had not even the excuse of desiring to wipe out the
dishonor of a defeat. Their soldiers had won a brilliant victory and
had fought with a determination and valor never exceeded, and England
could have afforded to say, "We will fight no more. If you, the
inhabitants of a vast continent, are determined to go alone, are
ready to give your lives rather than remain in connection with us, go
and prosper. We acknowledge we cannot subdue a nation in arms."
From the height of Copp's Hill it could be seen that the British had
suffered terribly. Captain Wilson was full of enthusiasm when he saw
the success of the last gallant charge of the English soldiers, but
he said to Harold:
"It is a disastrous victory. A few such battles as these and the
English army in America would cease to exist."
But although they were aware that the losses were heavy they were not
prepared for the truth. The long grass had hidden from view many of
those who fell, and when it was known that nearly half of those
engaged were killed or wounded the feeling among the English was akin
to consternation.
The generalship of the British was wholly unworthy of the valor of
the troops. There would have been no difficulty in placing some of
the vessels of light draught so far up the Mystic as to outflank the
intrenchments held by the colonists. Indeed, the British troops might
have been landed further up the Mystic, in which case the Americans
must have retreated instantly to avoid capture. Lastly, the troops,
although fighting within a mile of their quarters, were encumbered
with three days' provisions and their knapsacks, constituting, with
their muskets and ammunition, a load of 125 pounds. This was, indeed,
heavily handicapping men who had, under a blazing sun, to climb a
steep hill, with grass reaching to their knees, and intersected by
walls and fences.
American writers describe the defenders of the position as inferior
in numbers to the assailants, but it is due to the English to say
that their estimate of the number of the defenders of the
intrenchments differs very widely from this. General Gage estimated
them as being fully three times as numerous as the British troops. It
is probable that the truth lies between the two accounts.
Captain Wilson returned with Harold, greatly dispirited, to his
house.
"The lookout is dreadfully bad," he said to his wife, after
describing the events of the day. "So far as I can see there are but
two alternatives--either peace or a long and destructive war with
failure at its end. It is even more hopeless trying to conquer a vast
country like this, defended by irregulars, than if we had a trained
and disciplined army to deal with. In that case two or three signal
victories might bring the war to a conclusion; but fighting with
irregulars, a victory means nothing beyond so many of the enemy
killed. There are scarcely any cannon to take, no stores or magazines
to capture. When the enemy is beaten he disperses, moves off, and in
a couple of days gathers again in a fresh position. The work has no
end. There are no fortresses to take, no strategical positions to
occupy, no great roads to cut. The enemy can march anywhere, attack
and disperse as he chooses, scatter, and re-form when you have passed
by. It is like fighting the wind."
"Well, John, since it seems so hopeless, cannot you give it up? Is it
too late?"
"Altogether too late, Mary, and if I were free tomorrow I would
volunteer my services again next day. It is not any the less my duty
to fight in my country's cause because I believe the cause to be a
losing one. You must see that yourself, dear. If England had been
sure to win without my aid, I might have stood aloof. It is because
everyone's help is needed that such services as I can render are due
to her. A country would be in a bad way whose sons were only ready to
fight when their success was a certainty."
The Congress determined now to detach Canada from the English side
and prepared a force for the invasion of that colony, where the
British had but few regular troops.
Captain Wilson was one morning summoned to headquarters. On his
return he called together four or five of the men best acquainted
with the country. These had been in their early days hunters or
border scouts, and knew every foot of the forest and lakes.
"I have just seen the general," Captain Wilson said. "A royalist
brought in news last night that the rebels are raising a force
intended to act against Montreal. They reckon upon being joined by a
considerable portion of the Canadians, among whom there is,
unfortunately, a good deal of discontent. We have but two regiments
in the whole colony. One of these is at Quebec. The rebels,
therefore, will get the advantage of surprise, and may raise the
colony before we are in a condition to resist. General Howe asked me
to take my company through the woods straight to Montreal. We should
be landed a few miles up the coast at night. I suppose some of you
know the country well enough to be able to guide us."
Several of the men expressed their ability to act as guides.
"I've fought the Injuns through them woods over and over again," said
one of them, a sinewy, weather-beaten man of some sixty years old,
who was known as Peter Lambton. He had for many years been a scout
attached to the army and was one of the most experienced hunters on
the frontier. He was a tall, angular man, except that he stooped
slightly, the result of a habit of walking with the head bent forward
in the attitude of listening. The years which had passed over him had
had no effect upon his figure. He walked with a long, noiseless
tread, like that of an Indian, and was one of the men attached to his
company in whom, wisely, Captain Wilson had made no attempt to
instill the very rudiments of drill. It was, the captain thought,
well that the younger men should have such a knowledge of drill as
would enable them to perform simple maneuvers, but the old hunters
would fight in their own way--a way infinitely better adapted for
forest warfare than any that he could teach them. Peter and some of
his companions were in receipt of small pensions, which had been
bestowed upon them for their services with the troops. Men of this
kind were not likely to take any lively interest in the squabbles as
to questions of taxation, but when they found that it was coming to
fighting they again offered their services to the government as a
matter of course. Some were attached to the regular troops as scouts,
while others were divided among the newly raised companies of
loyalists.
Peter Lambton had for the last four years been settled at Concord.
During the war with the French he had served as a scout with the
regiment to which Captain Wilson belonged, and had saved that
officer's life when with a portion of his company, he was surrounded
and cut off by hostile Indians. A strong feeling of friendship had
sprung up between them, and when, four years before, there had been a
lull in the English fighting on the frontier, Peter had retired on
his pension and the savings which he had made during his many years'
work as a hunter, and had located himself in a cottage on Captain
Wilson's estate. It was the many tales told him by the hunter of his
experiences in Indian warfare that had fired Harold with a desire for
the life of a frontier hunter, and had given him such a knowledge of
forest life as had enabled him to throw off the Indians from his
trail. On Harold's return the old hunter had listened with extreme
interest to the story of his adventures and had taken great pride in
the manner in which he had utilized his teachings. Peter made his
appearance in the city three days after the arrival of Captain Wilson
there.
"I look upon this here affair as a favorable occurrence for Harold,"
he said to Captain Wilson. "The boy has lots of spirits, but if it
had not been for this he might have grown up a regular town
greenhorn, fit for nothing but to walk about in a long coat and to
talk pleasant to women; but this 'll jest be the making of him. With
your permission, cap, I'll take him under my charge and teach him to
use his eyes and his ears, and I reckon he'll turn out as good an
Injun fighter as you'll see on the frontier."
"But it is not Indians that we are going to fight Peter," Captain
Wilson said. "I heartily wish it was."
"It 'll be the same thing," Peter said; "not here, in course; there
'll be battles between the regulars and the colonists, regular
battles like that at Quebec, where both parties was fools enough to
march about in the open and get shot down by hundreds. I don't call
that fighting; that's jest killing, and there aint no more sense in
it than in two herd of buffalo charging each other on the prairie.
But there 'll be plenty of real fighting--expeditions in the woods
and Injun skirmishes, for you'll be sure that the Injuns'll join in,
some on one side and some on the other; it aint in their nature to
sit still in their villages while powder's being burned. A few months
of this work will make a man of him, and he might have a worse
teacher than Peter Lambton. You jest hand him over to my care, cap,
and I'll teach him all I know of the ways of the woods, and I tell
yer there aint no better kind of edication for a young fellow. He
larns to use the senses God has given him, to keep his head when
another man would lose his presence of mind, to have the eye of a
hawk and the ear of a hound, to get so that he scarcely knows what it
is to be tired or hungry, to be able to live while other men would
starve, to read the signs of the woods like a printed book, and to be
in every way a man and not a tailor's figure."
"There is a great deal in what you say, old friend," Captain Wilson
answered, "and such a training cannot but do a man good. I wish with
all my heart that it had been entirely with red foes that the
fighting was to be done. However, that cannot be helped, and as he is
to fight he could not be in better hands than yours. So long as we
remain here I shall teach him what drill I can with the rest of the
company, but when we leave this town and the work really begins, I
shall put him in your charge to learn the duties of a scout."
The young negro Jake had also enlisted, for throughout the war the
negroes fought on both sides, according to the politics of their
masters. There were only two other negroes in the company, and
Captain Wilson had some hesitation in enlisting them, but they made
good soldiers. In the case of Jake, Captain Wilson knew that he was
influenced in his wish to join solely by his affection for Harold,
and the lad's father felt that in the moment of danger the negro
would be ready to lay down his life for him.
There was great satisfaction in the band when they received news that
they were at last about to take the field. The long inaction had been
most wearisome to them, and they knew that any fighting that would
take place round Boston would be done by the regular troops. Food,
too, was very scarce in town, and they were heartily weary of the
regular drill and discipline. They were, then, in high spirits as
they embarked on board the _Thetis_ sloop-of-war and sailed from
Boston harbor.
It was a pitiful parting between Mrs. Wilson and her husband and son.
It had been arranged that she should sail for England in a ship that
was leaving in the following week and should there stay with her
husband's family, from whom she had a warm invitation to make their
home her own until the war was over.
The _Thetis_ ran out to sea. As soon as night fell her bow was turned
to land again, and about midnight the anchor was let fall near the
shore some twenty miles north of Boston. The landing was quickly
effected, and with three days' provisions in their knapsacks the
little party started on their march.
One of the scouts who had come from that neighborhood led them by
paths which avoided all villages and farms. At daybreak they
bivouacked in a wood and at nightfall resumed the march. By the next
morning they had left the settlements behind, and entered a belt of
swamp and forest extending west to the St. Lawrence.