that, while on the march, the latter, enraptured with joy, exclaimed,
"Oh, what an ever-glorious morning is this!"--considering this first
effusion of blood as the prelude of events which must secure the
happiness of his country. The soldiers advanced towards Concord, where
the inhabitants assembled; but seeing the numbers of the enemy, they
fell back, and posted themselves on a bridge, north of the town. The
light infantry assailed them with fury, routed them, and occupied the
bridge, while the others entered Concord, and proceeded to the
execution of their orders. They disabled two twenty-four pounders,
threw five hundred pounds of ball into the river and wells, and broke
in pieces about sixty barrels of flour.
[Illustration: Captain Wheeler and the British Officer.]
During the search of the British for military stores, a British officer
demanded entrance into the barn of Captain Wheeler. This was readily
granted. In it was stored a large quantity of provincial flour. The
officer expressed his pleasure at the discovery. But Captain Wheeler,
with much affected simplicity, said to him, putting his hand on a
barrel, "This is my flour. I am a miller, sir; yonder stands my mill; I
get my living by it. In the winter, I grind a great deal of grain, and
get it ready for market in the spring. This," (pointing to one barrel,)
"is the flour of wheat; this," (pointing to another,) "is the flour of
corn; this is the flour of rye; this," (putting his hand on his own
cask,) "is _my_ flour; this is _my_ wheat; this is _my_ rye; this is
_mine._" "Well," said the officer, "we do not injure _private_
property," and withdrew, leaving this important depository untouched.
The militia being rëinforced, Major Buttrick, of Concord, who had
gallantly offered to command them, advanced towards the bridge; but,
not knowing of the transaction at Lexington, ordered the men not to
give the first fire, that the provincials might not be the aggressors.
As he advanced, the light infantry retired to the Concord side of the
river, and began to pull up the bridge; and on his nearer approach,
they fired, and killed a captain and one of the privates. The
provincials returned the fire; a skirmish ensued, and the regulars
were forced to retreat, with some loss. They were soon joined by the
main body, which now retreated with precipitancy. Meanwhile, the
people of the adjacent country flocked in, and attacked them in every
direction. Some fired from behind stone walls and other coverts; while
others pressed on their rear during their retreat to Lexington.
General Gage, apprehensive for the fate of the English, had dispatched
nine hundred men and two field-pieces, under command of Lord Percy.
This corps arrived very opportunely at Lexington, at the moment when
the royal troops entered the town from the other side, pursued with
fury by the provincial militia.
It appears highly probable that, without this rëinforcement, they would
have all been cut to pieces or made prisoners; their strength was
exhausted, as well as their ammunition. After making a considerable halt
at Lexington, they renewed their march towards Boston, the number of the
provincials increasing, although the rear-guard of the English was less
molested, on account of the two field-pieces, which repressed the
impetuosity of the Americans. But the flanks of the columns remained
exposed to a destructive fire, from every point adapted to serve as
coverts. The royalists were also annoyed by the heat, which was
excessive, and by a violent wind, which blew a thick dust in their eyes.
Finally, after a march of incredible fatigue, and considerable loss of
men, the English, overwhelmed with lassitude, arrived at sunset in
Charlestown. Independently of the combat they had sustained, the
distance they had that day traveled was above five-and-thirty miles. The
day following, they crossed over to Boston.[31]
[Illustration: Retreat of the British from Concord.]
The rencontre at Lexington was, in itself, an inconsiderable affair.
But, in its relation and influence, its importance can scarcely be
estimated. It was the first outbreak of indignant feeling, which, for
months and years, had been acquiring strength, but which, until now,
had been suppressed. It was a solution of the problem, whether the
wrongs of America could be redressed without a resort to arms. It
developed the spirit and determination, as well of the king and
parliament, as of the Americans themselves. It shut the door for
further negotiation; it cut off hope for the colonies, but through an
appeal to arms. In fact, it was a signal for war--_it was war itself_.
The affair had two results. The _first_ was to demonstrate how false
and ridiculous were the vaunts of those Gascons who, within parliament
as well as without, had spoken in such unworthy terms of American
courage; from this moment, the English nation, and especially its
soldiers, persuaded themselves that the struggle would be far more
severe and sanguinary than had been at first believed. The _second_
effect of the combat was, greatly to increase the confidence of the
colonists, and their resolution to defend their rights. It should be
added, also, that the reports of the cruelties of the British troops
produced an incredible excitement in the minds of the inhabitants,
which was still further increased by the public honors which were paid
to those who had fallen in the opening contest. Their eulogies were
pronounced, and they were styled martyrs of liberty, while their
families were the objects of unusual veneration. They were cited as
the models to be imitated in the approaching conflict.
The provincial congress of Massachusetts was in session at Watertown,
ten miles distant from Boston. On receiving intelligence of the
battle, it took immediate measures to raise thirteen thousand and six
hundred men, and chose for their general Colonel Ward, an officer of
much reputation. This militia was designed to form the contingent of
Massachusetts; the provinces of New Hampshire, Connecticut, and Rhode
Island were invited to furnish theirs, in order to complete an army of
thirty thousand men, to be commanded by General John Thomas, an
officer of great experience. Connecticut dispatched, immediately, a
considerable corps, under the command of Colonel Putnam, an old
officer, who, in the two late wars, had often given proof of courage
and intelligence. The other provinces were not slow in causing their
standards to move; and, in a short time, an army of thirty thousand
men was found assembled under the walls of Boston. So great and so
universal was the ardor produced among the inhabitants by the battle
of Lexington, that the American generals were obliged to send back to
their homes many thousand volunteers. Putnam took his station at
Cambridge, and Thomas at Roxbury, upon the right wing of the army, to
cut off entirely the communication of the garrison, by the isthmus,
with the adjacent country. Thus, in a few days after the affair of
Lexington, the capital of the province of Massachusetts was closely
besieged; thus a multitude assembled in haste, of men, declared rebels
and mean-spirited cowards, held in strict confinement, not daring to
sally forth even to procure food, many thousands of veteran troops,
commanded by an able general, and combating under the royal standard.
[Illustration]
FOOTNOTE:
[31] Botta's War of the Independence.
II. BATTLE OF BUNKER'S HILL.
AMERICAN Patriotism--American and British Forces--Fortification of
Bunker's hill--Attacked by British Ships--Asa Pollard, the
first Martyr--Preparations of the British--Warren--Prescott's
Injunction to his Troops--British repulsed with terrible
slaughter--Second Attack--Charlestown set on fire at the same
time--Second Repulse--Putnam and Major Small--Death of Colonel
Gardiner--Thrilling Incident--Third Advance of the
British--Death of Major Pitcairn--Americans in want of
Ammunition--Retreat--Death of Warren--Respective
Losses--Results of the Battle.
Boston, which for a considerable time had been the point of greatest
interest in the American colonies, was not less so immediately following
the battle of Lexington. That engagement served to quicken the already
excited pulse of thousands. The fires of patriotism burned brighter.
Sires and sons, mothers and daughters, rejoiced that the crisis had
come, and were ready to make every needful sacrifice for their country's
good. In a few weeks, the metropolis of the province of Massachusetts
was environed by an American army, fifteen thousand strong--ten thousand
of which was furnished by Massachusetts, and three thousand by
Connecticut; the rest were supplied by the other New England colonies.
Of these troops, General Ward was commander-in-chief. His head-quarters
were at Cambridge. The right-wing was stationed at Roxbury, the left at
Medford and Chelsea.
Towards the end of May, a considerable rëinforcement arrived at Boston
from England, which, with the garrison, formed an army of from ten to
twelve thousand men--all veteran troops. At the head of this
rëinforcement were three distinguished and practical generals--Howe,
Clinton, and Burgoyne.
The difference in numbers was on the side of the Americans--not so,
however, their military science, arms, or ammunition. They had, in
all, but sixteen field-pieces, six of which, at the very utmost, were
in a condition for service. Their brass pieces, which were few, were
of the smallest caliber. They had, however, some heavy iron cannon,
with three or four mortars and howitzers, and some scanty provision of
balls and bombs. But of powder, they were almost totally destitute.
The situation of the English was now daily becoming more perplexing
and critical, and the necessity was increasingly apparent, if they
intended to retain their position, of fortifying certain points in the
neighborhood. The two regarded of greatest importance were the heights
of Dorchester and Charlestown. The former presenting superior
inducements, it was determined to occupy and fortify that first, and,
afterwards, the latter.
The Americans having learned the intentions of the British general, it
became a serious question what course was most prudent for them to
adopt. For a time, a difference of opinion prevailed among the
American patriots; but, at length, the committee of safety recommended
to the council of war to occupy and fortify Bunker's hill at once, and
Dorchester heights (now South Boston), as early after as practicable.
In conformity with this suggestion, on the following day (16th June),
General Ward issued orders to Colonel Prescott to proceed to
Charlestown, and occupy and fortify Bunker's hill.
The troops detached for this service, amounted to about one thousand
men. They were ordered to take provisions but for a single day. In the
early part of the evening of the 16th, they were mustered on Cambridge
common, near the colleges. They were commended to the protection and
guidance of Almighty God, in a prayer by President Langdon; after which,
led by the valiant Prescott, attired in a _calico frock_, and himself
preceded by two sergeants with dark lanterns, and accompanied by Colonel
Gridley and Judge Winthrop of Cambridge, they took their destined path.
Having reached the ground, a question arose which of the two hills was
intended as Bunker's hill. The northern eminence was more generally
spoken of under that name, while the southern, commonly called Breed's
hill, was evidently the one best fitted for the purpose. After long
deliberation, it was decided to construct the principal work on
Breed's hill, and to erect an additional and subsidiary one on
Bunker's hill. Accordingly, Captain Gridley proceeded to lay out the
principal work. Midnight arrived, however, before a spade entered the
ground; there remained therefore less than four hours before
day-light, when the operations would, of course, be seen by the
British. The men, however, now began, and they _worked_.
[Illustration: President Langdon at Prayer.]
Meanwhile, a strong guard, under Captain Manners, was stationed on the
Charlestown shore, to watch the enemy. The day had been fair, and it
was a clear, star-light night. Colonel Prescott, accompanied by Major
Brooks, went down twice to the shore to reconnoitre, and distinctly
heard the British sentries relieving guard, and uttering, as they
walked their rounds, the customary, but, in this instance deceptive,
cry, "All's well!"[32]
The night, on the part of the patriot band, was one of sleepless
vigilance and incessant toil. Shovels, pickaxes, and spades, were in
incessant motion; and, by four o'clock in the morning, they had thrown
up a redoubt, eight rods square and four feet high. At this time, the
captain of a British ship, called the _Lively_, discovered the work, and
opened a fire upon it. The alarm was given to the British in Boston, and
to the men-of-war in the river, and a heavy cannonade was commenced. The
fire from a battery of six guns, on Copp's hill, proved most annoying;
but the Americans, regardless of bombs and balls, continued their labors
with unshaken constancy. The first martyr who had the honor of shedding
his blood, on that ever-memorable hill, was a private soldier by the
name of _Asa Pollard_, of Billerica, and the shot which killed him was
the only one which took fatal effect during the forenoon.
[Illustration: Death of Pollard.]
While various movements were in progress, the Americans in the
neighborhood of the redoubt were by no means idle. About two hundred
yards in the rear of the breastwork was a stone fence surmounted with
rails. In front of this, another fence was constructed, and the space
between the two filled with hay, which happened to be on the field. A
subsidiary work was also hastily thrown up on Bunker's hill, properly
so called, by General Putnam.
[Illustration: General Putnam.]
From the moment the British discovered the operations of the
Americans, they well knew the importance of dislodging them from their
position. They had expected to attain this object by a cannonade from
their batteries and ships of war; but it was soon apparent that other
and more effective measures would be necessary. Accordingly, after
mature consultation in a council of war, summoned by General Gage, it
was resolved to transport a competent force across the river, and
attack the works in front.
It was "a day without clouds," and intensely hot. Between mid-day and
one o'clock, twenty-eight barges were seen moving from the end of Long
wharf towards Morton's point. On board of these were four battalions
of infantry and ten of grenadiers. They had six pieces of artillery,
one of which was placed in each of the six leading boats.
About two o'clock, a second detachment left Winnisimmett ferry, and
joined the first at Morton's point. These were soon after followed by
rëinforcements, which landed at Madlin's ship-yard, now the navy-yard
near the east end of Breed's hill. These several detachments,
amounting to about four thousand men, were under command of General
Howe, subordinate to whom were General Pigot, and Colonels Nesbit,
Abercrombie, and Clark.
[Illustration: Interview between Putnam and Warren.]
A short time before the action commenced, a horseman was perceived
advancing rapidly from Charlestown, towards the American redoubt. It
proved to be General Warren, the president of the provincial congress.
"Ah!" said Putnam, as the former came up, "is it you, General? I am
glad to see you, and yet I regret your presence. Your life is too
precious to be thus exposed; but since you are here, let me receive
your orders." "No," replied the gallant soldier; "I give no orders! I
come as a volunteer; and now say where I can be the most useful."
"Go, then," said Putnam, "to the redoubt; you will there be less
exposed." "Tell me," rejoined Warren, "where will be the point of
greatest danger." "The redoubt will be the enemy's first and principal
object," said Putnam; "if we can defend that, the day is ours." Warren
passed on, and, as he passed, the troops recognised him, and loud and
long were their acclamations. Every bosom felt the impulse of his
presence. At the redoubt, Prescott received him, and begged him to
receive the command. "Give me a musket," said Warren; "to-day I take a
lesson from the veteran soldier in the art of war." Warren could not
content himself away from the dangers which were thickening around the
patriotic cause. The day previous, he had presided in the congress in
session at Watertown, and had spent the entire night in transacting
business growing out of his official station. On reaching Cambridge,
early in the morning, he received intelligence of the expected battle.
He attended a meeting of the committee of safety, of which he was
chairman. Here he made known his intention of taking part in the
approaching contest. "Your ardent temper," said Gerry, "will carry you
forward in the midst of peril, and you will probably fall." "I know
that I may fall," replied Warren, "but I should die with shame, were I
to remain at home in safety, while my friends and fellow-citizens are
shedding their blood, and hazarding their lives in the cause." The
honor of Warren is greatly enhanced by the consideration that he was
originally opposed to the plan of fortifying the heights of
Charlestown, but no sooner had the council of war decided upon that
measure, than he gave it his hearty cöoperation. And here we see this
brave and patriotic man in the field of battle, and in the midst of
danger, having adopted the beautiful sentiment of the Roman poet,
"Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori."
The action opened at about three o'clock in the afternoon, at which
time a general discharge of artillery was ordered along the whole
British line. At the same time, the troops advanced in two divisions.
General Howe led the right towards the rail-fence; General Pigot with
the left end towards the redoubt.
The march of the British troops was slow, but steady. They wore the
aspect of strong confidence and strong determination. Meanwhile, the
American drums beat to arms. Quitting his intrenchment, where he was
still at work on Bunker's hill, Putnam led his equally determined, but
far less disciplined, troops into action. Said this veteran general,
in his usual pointed and laconic style, "Fellow-soldiers! powder is
scarce, and must not be wasted. Reserve your fire till you see the
whites of their eyes. Then take aim at the officers."
This injunction, however, having been disobeyed by a few of the more
restless and impetuous, Prescott, proceeding along the lines, said, in
a tone of thunder: "The next man that fires before the order is given,
shall be instantly shot." It was apparently cruel thus to require
troops, whose bosoms were now glowing with burning zeal, to withhold
their fire, while the enemy was pouring in his at every step of his
progress. It was, however, a wise delay. At length, the British had
advanced within eight rods of the redoubt. "Now, men," said Prescott,
"now is your time! Make ready! Take aim! Fire!"
And such a deadly fire, perhaps, was never before made; and, when the
smoke rolled off, such a sight was perhaps never before seen. The
hill-side was covered with the slain. The ranks of the British were
broken, and confusion appeared on every side. The British officers
attempted to rally their troops. In this, they succeeded so far as to
induce them to fire; but, evidently appalled at the fearful and
unexpected carnage, they turned, and fled down the hill.
"Following this repulse, there was an ominous pause," says a writer,
"like the lull that sometimes interrupts the wildest tempest, only
broken by the occasional discharge of artillery from the ships and
batteries." It was not, however, of long duration. A second attack was
decided upon, and orders issued again to advance. Meanwhile, a deep
silence brooded over the American lines, all being intent upon the
devastation which had been made, and watching for the future movements
of the enemy which had been so signally repulsed. Their success had
greatly exceeded their own expectations, and served to inspire them with
still more confidence in a second rencontre which they might now
momently expect. In the first attack, they had been directed to reserve
their fire until the enemy had approached within eight rods; now they
must wait until the enemy should approach within six rods.
While the British troops were advancing, suddenly a new spectacle burst
upon the eyes of the tens of thousands who were looking on from every
neighboring eminence, which greatly added to the sublimity of the scene.
Annoyed in his first attack upon the American redoubt, by the fire of
a detachment stationed at Charlestown, General Howe had given
directions to fire that town, both by way of revenging the injury he
had sustained, and, also, the more to distract the Americans during
his second attack, to which he was now advancing. In furtherance of
this object, a large quantity of combustibles had been conveyed from
Boston, and a detachment of marines, from the Somerset, been landed to
set them on fire. The work of conflagration was now commenced. Dense
and dark clouds of smoke rose over the town, and at length enveloped
the whole peninsula; through this smoke, columns of flame shot up, and
flashed in every direction. The fire spread with fearful rapidity from
house to house, and from street to street. At length, the flames
reached the church, and, climbing its lofty steeple, converted it into
a blazing pyramid. The beams, supporting the bell, were burned in
sunder, upon which it fell, and while falling, its pealing sounds were
distinctly heard by hundreds, uniting with crackling flames and
crashing edifices in enhancing the dreadful magnificence of the day.
It was in the midst of a scene of desolation like this--by which
property to the amount of one hundred and twenty thousand pounds
sterling was destroyed, six hundred buildings consumed, and two
thousand people rendered houseless--the two opposing forces were
preparing for another sanguinary rencontre. The British general was
leading on his troops, as cool and undisturbed as if they had met with
no repulse. They opened their fire by platoons, and apparently at
random, yet not entirely without effect. Colonels Nixon and Brewer
were borne wounded from the works. A ball through his shoulder
rendered Colonel Backminster a cripple for life. Major Moore received
a shot through the thigh; soon after which, a second ball pierced his
body, which subsequently proved mortal.
The Americans had been charged to reserve their fire till the enemy were
within six rods. The success which had attended their former delay, now
enabled them the more cheerfully to yield obedience to orders, a
compliance with which had, in the first instance, seemed nearly
impossible. At length, the enemy reached the prescribed distance, when
the anticipated words, "Make ready! Take aim! Fire!" were heard in a
voice like thunder--and, in an instant, hundreds of men, including a
surprising number of principal officers, were seen prostrated in the
dust. The fire proved even more destructive than in the first attack.
General Howe was left nearly alone, almost every officer of his staff
being either killed or wounded. So sweeping had been the destruction,
that the ranks were fatally broken, and a second time orders were issued
for the British army to make good their retreat.