CONCLUSION
The snow was deep and the sledge teams had heavy going at first. But,
after a few days, the snow began to pack, and the progress of Colonel
Knox’s party became more easy. There was little or no difficulty with
the streams; these were frozen solid, for the winter had developed into
a remarkably severe one.
However, fresh falls of snow now and then impeded their advance, and
they were content to make very few miles a day; but they pushed doggedly
on, nevertheless, for they knew that their burden was urgently needed at
Cambridge.
It was at Fort George that Ezra and Ben Cooper left the party and rode
forward to Boston bearing the news of the expedition’s success.
The lads never forgot the look of triumph that swept into Washington’s
face as he read the dispatch. Generals Putnam and Ward and Colonel
Prescott were with him at the time and he read the missive aloud to
them. It ran:
“‘December 17th.
“‘I hope in sixteen or seventeen days to present to your Excellency a
noble train of artillery, the inventory of which I have enclosed.’”
Then he read the inventory, and the boys saw the eyes of the other
officers kindle.
“Now that,” cried Putnam, striking the table a mighty blow, “is
something like!”
“It would seem,” commented General Ward, “that fortune has thought it
worth while to smile upon us for once, at any rate.”
“With the shells and powder from the King’s stores at New York and the
cargo of the ordnance brig lately captured,” spoke Prescott, “we now
have a comparative plenty of ammunition. What is there now to hinder us
from moving to the reduction of Boston?”
“Nothing but the opportunity of doing so without injury to those of our
own people who are still therein,” replied the commander-in-chief.
Great events had happened in the past few months. Not the least of these
was the recall of General Gage by the British ministry and the
appointment of Howe in his place. Washington had practically discharged
one army and recruited another in the face of the enemy. The colonies
were making a united effort toward liberty; for until this time New
England had borne alone the brunt of the uprising.
The lads found the Porcupine at their quarters, and in a conversation
with that small but very shrewd person, they learned a great deal of
what had taken place.
“Last month,” said the dwarf, as he sat cross-legged before them upon a
wide settle, while they ate of the good food set before them, “there was
a party of British light infantry landed at Lechmere’s Point. They
desired to take off some cattle; but Colonel Patterson and our riflemen
objected and there was a brisk fight in which the British were driven
off.”
“Have our men been keeping their hearts up?” asked Ezra.
“Fairly well. But last month things were very bad indeed in this camp.
We had nothing—no food to speak of, no quarters to keep out of the
weather, no fire to warm ourselves by, no clothing but rags to hide our
nakedness.”
“Well,” remarked Ben Cooper, “so long as it was kept from the knowledge
of the British, it was not at its worst.”
“But it was not kept from their knowledge,” returned the Porcupine.
“General Howe knew of our situation all the time!”
“And he did not attack!” cried Ezra, wonderingly.
“He had been expecting reinforcements, so our spies learned,” replied
the dwarf with a wise nod of the head. “And as they did not arrive, he
kept waiting. You know,” and here a wide grin spread across the
speaker’s face, “that he’s tried our mettle once, and so he was in no
hurry to do so again without a good force behind him.”
“And the general?” asked Ben, “how did he take it all?”
“He went about as calm as the morning,” replied the Porcupine in high
admiration. “You’d never have thought but what everything was as well as
it could be. He seemed always planning and building defenses. General
Putnam was told to occupy and fortify Cobble Hill. Two half moon
batteries were thrown up between Lechmere’s Point and Cambridge River.
Three places between Sewall’s Point and Roxbury Neck were also
strengthened, to be manned in case of a sortie when the bay is frozen
over.”
“But that things have taken a turn, I can see plainly,” said Ezra. “The
camp has a brisk look; the men look content; the officers hold their
heads high.”
“It all began with Captain Manly’s capture of the ‘Nancy’ brig,” said
the Porcupine. “Ah, there is a brave and enterprising officer; if there
are many on the sea like him, they’ll give the King’s admirals trouble
enough.”
“The ‘Nancy’ is probably the ordnance brig we heard Colonel Prescott
mention,” said Ben to Ezra.
The Porcupine nodded his head.
“It’s more than likely,” said he. “All have talked of it more or less.
You see Captain Manly, who is in command of the ‘Lee,’ took the ‘Nancy’
as she came into the bay, and carried her into Cape Ann. And she proved
to be a most wonderful treasure ship—crammed to the hatches with
military stores of every sort.”
“Excellent!” cried both listeners together.
“So full was she, and so struck was General Washington by her value,
that he at once sent a strong guard to protect her. He felt sure that
the British would not rest until they had done something to recover a
vessel so desirable.”
“And did they?”
“They had not the time, so prompt were the general’s orders, and so
rapidly were they carried out. Teams were impressed, the minutemen about
Cape Ann were called out to give their help; and in a little while the
cargo was discharged and removed to a safe place within our lines.”
“Now that was an admirable stroke of fortune,” cried Ben Cooper. “The
stores must have pleased everybody much, to change the complexion of
things so.”
“They would have pleased a king,” said the Porcupine. “There were two
thousand muskets; one hundred thousand flints, thirty thousand round
shot for one, six and twelve-pounders; thirty tons of musket shot;
eleven mortar beds; and one great thirteen-inch brass mortar that weighs
not an ounce less than twenty-seven hundred pounds.”
“A most astonishing ship, indeed!” said Ezra Prentiss.
“Then there came powder and shells from New York about the same time.
Barracks were built to house the troops during the severe weather. Other
ships were taken by Captain Manly and seamen of his quality. Among the
cargo were thousands of uniforms intended for the British soldiers, and
hundreds of barrels of salt beef and pork; woolen goods in vast
quantities; flour, hard biscuit and other things were taken. And, so
then, as we were very well off, indeed, the recruits began to take heart
and offer themselves for service: the regiments are filling up, and we
will soon be quite strong once more.”
“But the British,” asked Ezra, “how do they like all their winter’s wear
and provisions falling into other hands?”
“Why,” answered the dwarf with a shake of his big head, “they endure it
very ill indeed. As we advanced into comfort, so did they fall in need.
Fuel and food are very high in Boston at this time; and the citizens are
suffering much more than the soldiery. Some few vessels have gotten
safely by our privateers, but Howe has kept their stores for the use of
his troops.”
“They have made no advance, then?” said Ben.
“Rather they have fallen back,” answered the dwarf, and he grinned
delightedly. “They had begun to build barracks on Bunker Hill, but
building materials were so scarce, the winds grew so keen, and the snow
fell so constantly that Howe at length bid Clinton strike his tents and
return to Boston. Lieutenant-Colonel Agnew and seven hundred are left to
man the three redoubts that are now upon the hill.”
The middle of December found Boston all but upon the verge of
starvation. The townspeople were desperate and Lord Howe feared that
they might rise against him. He offered to allow any of those who
desired to leave the city, and like Gage, covertly threatened the torch
in case he were attacked from within. As a protection from an assault by
Washington, which he daily dreaded, there came an outbreak of smallpox
among his troops.
“That will keep the rebels out, even if our guns fail to do so,” he
said.
British cannon were planted all about in the city’s hills and open
places; its churches and unoccupied houses were torn down by the
soldiers for fuel; Faneuil Hall was a playhouse in which mocking
comedies were presented; Old South Church was used as a riding school.
Under a strict martial law the people of the city were all but
prisoners. Thousands now took advantage of Howe’s permission, crossed in
boats to Point Shirly and dispersed into the country.
On the first day of January, in that most memorable year of 1776, the
first continental flag was thrown to breeze, and as its thirteen stripes
rippled at the top of the pole, it was saluted with tremendous shouting;
and thirteen guns were fired by way of a salute. Upon the same day, the
King’s speech upon the opening of Parliament was received in camp. For
the first time the Americans heard that King George contemplated the
hiring of foreign troops to help subdue them. At this, their rage was
without bounds; they hooted the King, his Parliament and his army; then
they burnt his speech and otherwise bid him defiance.
A little later than this came the news of the American defeat at Quebec
and the death of the heroic young Montgomery, whom Washington had
selected to lead the expedition against that city. Appeals were then
sent out to various colonies to hurry some fresh regiments to Cambridge;
and Congress formally authorized Washington to attack Boston at any time
and in any manner that he thought most efficient.
When the army was finally in sufficient strength to warrant his so
doing, Washington took the step that he long knew would bring him
victory or defeat.
“It will bring on a general attack,” he was heard to say; “we will
either be forced from our position, or the British will be compelled to
take to their ships.”
This step was the occupation of Dorchester Heights. From this elevation
Washington could reach Boston with the heavy guns from Ticonderoga,
which had in the meantime been brought in by Colonel Knox. It was March
when preparations were begun, and Ezra and his friends were in the thick
of the matter.
Gilbert Scarlett was especially valuable in the designing of
chandeliers, fascines and such like, necessary in the erection of the
works; also with the aid of his boy friends, he worked with the spirit
of a dozen in the collection of bateaux in which to transport the men.
When the time for movement arrived, Washington had forty-five of these
clumsy craft, each capable of seating eighty men. Two floating batteries
were held with them in the Charles River; hundreds of militia came
pouring into camp to lend what aid they could to the enterprise.
The design was kept secret; to divert the attention of the enemy a brisk
bombardment and cannonade was begun on the night of the second of March,
from Cobble Hill, Roxbury and Lechmere’s Point. Many houses were
shattered by this fire; the British returned it with spirit, but did
little damage. On the night of March fourth this was repeated, and about
seven o’clock, General Thomas with about two thousand men marched to
take possession of Dorchester Heights. The entrenching tools, under care
of a large detachment, were sent on ahead; later the main body, with
three hundred carts, loaded with fascines and twisted hay, followed.
All night the Americans labored; the moon was brilliant, the guns
roared, the arching shells burst high in the air. And when morning
dawned, two forts were in a sufficient state of advancement to resist
small arms and grape-shot.
If the British had been surprised to see the works raised in a night
upon Breed’s Hill, they were astounded at the sight of those which now
met their gaze upon Dorchester Heights.
“It looks like the work of twelve thousand men,” declared Lord Howe to
his generals. “The rebels have done more in one night than my army has
done in a month. The genii must have aided them.”
These works commanded both the harbor and town of Boston. The British
admiral at once decided that the fleet could not ride in safety unless
the Americans were displaced.
“We must do one of two things,” he told General Howe. “The Yankees must
be driven from that post, or we must evacuate Boston.”
This enraged the governor. He had a very high notion of British honor
and military superiority.
“They will be driven from the Heights,” he declared, grimly.
At once he went to work. Twenty-four hundred men were ordered to embark
in transports, rendezvous at Castle William and make a night attack upon
the American position. The command of this force was given to the
gallant Earl Percy, the same who had come to the retreating column under
Lieutenant-Colonel Smith as it fell back in defeat from Lexington in the
spring before.
Washington saw this movement and sent two thousand men to reinforce
General Thomas; and with the reinforcement marched Ezra Prentiss and his
friends. Everywhere among the Americans was anxiety to meet the foe.
“I never saw such high spirits anywhere,” said Nat Brewster.
“Every man on the Heights seems exultant,” said Ezra. “They seem to
think victory is ready at their hands.”
“And a right good thought that is for men about to engage a hostile
force,” observed Gilbert Scarlett.
“Did you see the rows of barrels?” asked George Prentiss. “They are
filled with earth, and have been placed in front. Upon the enemies’
advance they will be rolled down the hillside upon them.”
While things were being made ready, General Washington appeared upon the
ground to inspect what was going forward and to cheer up the troops.
“Remember, men, it is the fifth of March,” he said. “Avenge the deaths
of your brethren shot down in Boston.”
At fort Number Two, near Cambridge, a fine body of four thousand troops
were paraded and made ready to assault the British lines. This was
arranged into two divisions; one was under General Greene, the other
under General Sullivan—and the whole under command of General Putnam.
But the fight was not to be just yet. The wind blew up so furiously that
the British transports could not reach their destinations; and the surf
was too heavy for boats to have made a landing.
The next day the British attack was still further delayed for the same
reason; and all the time the Americans were increasing the strength of
their works.
“I can find it in my heart to be sorry that the attack was not made,”
Washington said to his generals. “Everything was complete for the
reception of the enemy; we can hardly hope for a repetition of the same
conditions.”
Howe was forced to abandon his project and his troops returned to
Boston. His situation was now perplexing and critical. The fleet could
not ride at anchor because of the positions of the American batteries,
and the British army was unable to drive them from these positions. The
Boston Tories, in a panic of fear of what might happen, demanded the
protection which had long been guaranteed. No dispatches had been
received from London for a long time.
“It looks,” grumbled the British officers, “as though we’d been left to
get out of a bad scrape as best we can.”
“To remain in Boston,” said General Howe to the Tories, “will put my
troops in great danger.”
“But if you don’t remain, you will put us loyalists, and all property,
in equal danger,” promptly answered Ruggles, the Tory leader.
But Howe was now looking at the other side of the picture. The fate of
property was nothing to him when his army was in the balance. When he
had assumed command, he had written the ministry many reasons why Boston
should be held. But with the great guns upon Dorchester Heights frowning
down upon him, he saw many reasons why he should abandon it.
Washington desired to gain possession of the city above all else; but he
wished to do so without bloodshed if it could be done. However, he went
on with his preparations. On the ninth he planted a battery on Bird’s
Hill and began firing upon the British shipping. Nook’s Hill was an
eminence greatly feared by Howe and his officers. All along they had
felt that if the Americans established themselves upon it, Boston would,
indeed, be at their mercy.
Washington now directed that Nook’s Hill be occupied. A strong
detachment was sent there in the night. While the guns were being
brought up, Ezra Prentiss noted a soldier impudently kindling a fire
behind the hill. He sprang toward the man, crying:
“Hello! Put that out!”
The man was a surly fellow and made a short reply. Ezra, without
parleying, kicked the blazing wood about and began trampling upon it.
But it was too late, the enemy saw the light, suspected what was going
forward, and began to fire. This was the beginning of a night of terror;
the American batteries answered at once from Cobble Hill, Lechmere’s
Point, Roxbury and Cambridge; the British thundered and raved through
the darkness like the stubborn fighters that they were. More than eight
hundred cannon-shots were fired before morning, and the result was that
the American works upon Nook’s Hill were stopped and the troops
withdrawn.
But at the same time, this event showed General Howe that to attempt to
hold Boston any longer would be folly. His horse transports were ordered
to fall back to Castle William; all goods which would likely be of value
to the “rebels” were confiscated. Ammunition which could not be carried
was thrown into the river; guns were spiked and gun-carriages were
broken.
While waiting for their ships to assemble, the city was practically
given up to sack by the Tories. This news reached the American lines and
Ezra and George Prentiss were greatly worried about it.
“If the British really mean to evacuate, this will make it all the
harder for those Tories who are left behind,” said George.
“And grandfather is just determined, or stubborn, enough to be among
those,” answered Ezra, anxiously.
In both their minds was a picture of the grim old merchant, deserted,
unprotected and at the mercy of a populace whom he had long reviled. And
both fervently hoped that the outgoing of Howe would be at once followed
by the ingoing of Washington; as an unpatrolled city, even for a short
time, might mean the death of Seth Prentiss.
On March sixteenth, as the British were still apparently undecided
whether to abandon their now assembled vessels or no, Washington took
the step that forced the issue. Once more he ordered a night occupation
of Nook’s Hill. And this time, in spite of the enemy’s fire, he held it.
The effect was instantaneous. At nine o’clock the garrison left Bunker
Hill; fleets of boats loaded with soldiers and Tories put out from the
wharves of Boston.
Instantly the American troops under Putnam were put in motion. Bunker
Hill was occupied; a compact force crossed to Boston from that end;
another advanced across the Neck under Colonel Learned. These, under the
command of Putnam, at once seized all the important posts and manned
them. Ezra, Nat, Scarlett and the others, who had all crossed with
Colonel Learned, rode in search of Putnam. When they found that stout
warrior in the midst of his work, Ezra saluted and said:
“General, if I and my friends can be spared, we’d like to ride to Sun
Court.”
“Why?” asked Putnam.
“My grandfather lives there; he may be in danger.”
“I understand,” replied the general. “Go at once; you have my authority
to put down any kind of illegal violence.”
So away the five dashed through the streets. The smashed doors and
windows of stores mutely told their tale; the rows of razed houses whose
timbers had gone to keep the British army warm during the winter, left
great gaps and also made the town look queer and strange. Gaunt and
wan-faced people feebly cheered the boys as they raced over the stones;
bands of eager, wolfish-looking men were already prowling about in
search of what plunder the outgoing army had been forced to leave
behind.
As they approached Sun Court, a muffled roar began to reach their ears.
It was the sound of distant voices, angry, threatening, and high-lifted.
“Push on!” cried Ezra, his face whitening.
Urging their mounts to the utmost, they wheeled out of Fish Street into
Prince’s. Louder grew the cries; people were pouring into Sun Court from
every direction. Turning the corner the five rode over the bricked
pavement into the midst of these and to the edge of a huge, swaying,
shouting mob gathered before Seth Prentiss’ door. A stout man with a
very red face and wearing the smock of a butcher stood upon the steps.
“He’s had his will with us this many a day,” cried this person loudly,
“and now his British friends have left him for us to have our will with
him.”
There was a shriek from the mob, and a tossing of hats and arms.
“Let us have him out of his house,” yelled a voice above all the others.
“Let us show him that we, too, have our day.”
With one impulse the crowd swept forward; some were battering upon the
door and heavy shutters, when the boys and Scarlett came plunging
through them.
“Hold!” cried Ezra, as he reached his grandfather’s door. He wheeled his
prancing horse, as did his friends, and faced the mob. “It is the order
of General Putnam that no violence be offered to any one. In the name of
the Continental Congress we bid you to stand back!”
The uniforms of the five were new to the men of Boston, but the name of
Putnam and the mention of the Continental Congress had their effect, and
they hesitated.
But the red-faced butcher urged them on.
“Will you be stopped by a parcel of boys?” he shouted. “Will you be
cheated of your revenge by a handful of young upstarts because they came
a-riding on horseback and use high words?”
The crowd wavered. The butcher saw this and redoubled his efforts; then
Scarlett dismounted and approached him quietly. Hooking his thumbs in
his sword belt the soldier of fortune said:
“My friend, you are a stout fellow enough, but you make overmuch noise
for even one of your girth.”
And with that he took the butcher by the scruff of the neck and shook
him like a rat. The man sputtered and coughed and fought back. But he
was but as an infant in the hands of the slender but powerful
adventurer, and as they witnessed his discomfiture, some of the crowd
began to laugh. Then a roar of mirth went up; and seeing the good nature
of the crowd, Ezra held up his hand for silence and cried:
“Boston is now in the hands of General Washington and his army. Justice
will be done every man. It is your place to see to it that no good
American, through a spirit of revenge, falls into the usages of the
British. Go to your homes. If you have a complaint to make of any man,
make it to the proper authorities. To take the law into your own hands
is dangerous, for you cannot see the end of such a thing.”
There were a few scattered cheers to show that the people realized the
force of this reasoning. But at the same time was heard the quick tramp
of a body of Continental infantry, one of the many sent to patrol the
city; and Ezra never knew but what their arrival had more to do with the
mob’s change of front than anything he had said. At any rate, they were
instantly seized with a huge admiration at this display of their
national force, and burst into loud huzzas. The officer in command of
the troop bid them disperse, as it was against the general’s orders for
any crowds to collect until the city had come under control; and as both
townfolk and troop passed out of Sun Court, Nat Brewster said:
“It was a fortunate circumstance that brought this finish about. I had
thought to have harder work of it.”
“And I,” said a voice behind them.
All turned. The door of the mansion had opened and Seth Prentiss stood
before them. He was dressed in gown and slippers; and large
silver-rimmed spectacles seemed to add to the harshness of his face.
Regarding both Ezra and George for a moment in silence, he said:
“I had not expected to ever bid either of you welcome to my house. But
if I were to say that I did not silently welcome you when those good
friends of mine came hammering at my door, I would not be speaking the
truth.”
He ran his eyes over them with an expression upon his face that neither
of his grandsons had ever seen there before; then he continued:
“Neither did I ever think that you would make a better selection of
government than myself.”
“Grandfather!” both boys flung themselves from their steeds and
approached him, joy in their faces.
“I mean it,” cried the old merchant. “None has kept faith with the King
more loyally than I have done. But he has deserted me—he has deserted
his city. And now I desert him!”
He wrung the hands of his delighted grandsons, then shook his gnarled
fist in the direction of the bay.
“Their ships are there, crowded with armed men; they have fled, and in
so doing showed me that they are not competent to rule.” Just then
another compact body of Continentals went by with throbbing drums and
squealing fife. The old man watched them to the turn of the street.
“Your General Washington is not of the fleeing kind,” spoke he. “He
believes in a cause and holds to it like a true man should.”
“In that, Master Prentiss, you say rightly,” said Gilbert Scarlett. “And
not only is he a true man, but a great soldier as well—a soldier
destined to gain many victories. One victory already he has gained
beside the taking of Boston Town,” with a laugh. “And that is over
Gilbert Scarlett, soldier of fortune. A commission is mine, they have
told me, for the asking. Always have I loved great leaders; and you may
be sure that I will not delay longer now in asking for it.”
“Sir,” responded Seth Prentiss, “you show yourself a man of sense. And
now,” with a bow, “will you dismount and enter? Also you, young
gentlemen,” to Nat and Ben. “From now on the friends of my grandsons
will be very welcome here.”
And so they tied their horses and entered the fine old house. As the
door shut behind him, closing out the distant huzzas and the throbbing
of the Continental drums, a sense of great peace filled Ezra’s heart.
Other Books in this Series are
THE YOUNG CONTINENTALS AND LEXINGTON
THE YOUNG CONTINENTALS AT TRENTON