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A public-domain text about Boston, accessioned whole so the archive can quote it.","text_extract":"Presented  to  the \nLIBRARY  of  the \n\nUNIVERSITY  OF  TORONTO \n\nby \n\nOntario \nLegislative  Library \n\n\n• \n\n\nTHE   SIEGE  OF  BOSTON \n\n\nTHE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY \n\nNEW  YORK   •    BOSTON   •    CHICAGO \nATLANTA   •    SAN  FRANCISCO \n\nMACMILLAN  &  CO.,  LIMITED \n\nLONDON   •    BOMBAY   •    CALCUTTA \nMELBOURNE \n\nTHE  MACMILLAN  CO.  OF  CANADA,  LTD. \n\nTORONTO \n\n\nOLD  STATE  HOUSE \n\n\nTHE  SIEGE  OF  BOSTON  « \n\n\n*'  W$  -3 \n\n\n(/intatiu \n\nOf  I\" \n\n\nBY \n\nALLEN    FRENCH \n\n\na,  '  i \n\n\n. \n\n\nOf \n\n\nTHE    MACMILLAN    COMPANY \n1911 \n\nAll  rights  reserved \n\n\nCOPYRIGHT,  1911, \nBY  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY. \n\n\nSet  up  and  clectrotyped.     Published  February,  1911. \n\n\nNortooott \n\nJ.  S.  Gushing  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith  Co. \nNorwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. \n\n\nTO    C.    E.   S. \n\n\nPREFACE \n\nIN  writing  this  book  I  have  endeavored  to \nproduce  a  brief  and  readable  account  of  the \nSiege  of  Boston,  and  of  the  events  which \nbrought  it  about.  These  were,  of  course, \nparts  of  a  larger  history,  the  connection  with \nwhich  I  have  carefully  indicated.  My  main \nendeavor,  nevertheless,  has  been  to  treat  my \nsubject  as  a  single  organic  series  of  events. \nTo  select  the  more  interesting  and  significant \nmasses  of  detail,  and  properly  to  coordinate \nthem,  has  not  been  an  easy  task.  The  minor \nincidents  were  conditioned  by  the  scale  of  the \nbook ;  the  result,  I  hope,  is  fluency  and  a  more \nevident  connection  between  the  larger  events. \n\nSo  far  as  possible,  I  have  relied  upon  con- \ntemporary statements.  But  no  writer  on  the \nSiege  can  fail  to  acknowledge  his  deep  obliga- \ntions to  the  \"History  of  the  Siege  \"  by  Richard \nFrothingham.  This  acknowledgment  I  gladly \n\n\nVll \n\n\nviii  Preface \n\nmake.  Since  1849,  however,  the  date  of  the \npublication  of  the  book,  there  has  come  to \nlight  interesting  new  material  which  I  have \nendeavored  to  incorporate  here.  The  other \nauthorities  upon  which  I  have  chiefly  de- \npended will  be  found  by  referring  to  the  foot- \nnotes. \n\nALLEN  FRENCH. \n\nCONCORD,  MASSACHUSETTS, \nJanuary,  1911. \n\n\nCONTENTS \n\nCHAPTER  PAGE \n\nI.      BEGINNINGS  AND  CONDITIONS  I \n\nII.      WRITS  OF  ASSISTANCE  AND  THE  STAMP  ACT      .        21 \n\nIII.  CHARLES    TOWNSHEND,    SAM    ADAMS,    AND    THE \n\nMASSACRE          .          .          .          .          .          .41 \n\nIV.  THE  TEA- PARTY  AND  ITS  CONSEQUENCES  .          .        71 \nV.      THE  OCCUPATION  OF  BOSTON  .          .          .91 \n\nVI.  THE     POWDER     ALARM    AND     THE    WINTER    OF \n\n1774-1775       .  .  '.123 \n\nVII.  MILITARY  PREPARATIONS         .          .          .          .161 \n\nVIII.  THE  NINETEENTH  OF  APRIL  .        •.          .          .187 \n\nIX.  BOSTON  BELEAGUERED 216 \n\nX.  THE  BATTLE  OF  BUNKER  HILL       ,          .          .256 \n\nXI.  WASHINGTON  TAKES  COMMAND         .          .          .288 \n\nXII.  EVENTS    IN   BOSTON   FROM  JUNE   TO    DECEMBER, \n\n1775       •    \" 331 \n\nXIII.  WASHINGTON'S  DIFFICULTIES  .          .          .          .361 \n\nXIV.  THE  WINTER  IN  BOSTON        .          .          .          •      392 \nXV.      THE  EVACUATION  .          .          .          •     4!5 \n\n\nQ)ttt«uo \n\nILLUSTRATIONS \n\nOLD  STATE  HOUSE  .....   Frontispiece \n\nPAGE \n\nTHE  HUTCHINSON  HOUSE          .         .          .         .          -35 \n\nFANEUIL  HALL         ......  facing     58 \n\nSAMUEL  ADAMS        ......  facing     69 \n\nTHE  INVESTMENT  OF  BOSTON     ....  facing   127 \n\nREVERE'S  PICTURE  OF  BOSTON  IN   1768       .          .          .175 \nTHE  OLD  NORTH  CHURCH       ....  facing  181 \n\nTHE  BATTLE  OF  LEXINGTON      ....  facing   193 \n\nPLAN  OF  THE  SIEGE          .          .          .          .          .  235 \n\nTHE  MINUTE.  MAN  .....  facing  303 \n\nTHE  OLD  NORTH  BRIDGE          ....  facing  303 \n\nWASHINGTON'S  HEADQUARTERS  ....  facing  374 \n\nDORCHESTER  TOWER         ......      407 \n\nGOLD  MEDAL  COMMEMORATING  WASHINGTON'S  VICTORY      434 \n\n\nXI \n\n\nTHE  SIEGE  OF  BOSTON \n\nCHAPTER  I \n\nBEGINNINGS    AND    CONDITIONS \n\nTHE  Siege  of  Boston  was  the  culmina- \ntion of  a  series  of  events  which  will \nalways  be  of  importance  in  the  his- \ntory of  America.  From  the  beginning  of  the \nreign  of  George  the  Third,  the  people  of  the \nEnglish  colonies  in  the  new  world  found  them- \nselves at  variance  with  their  monarch,  and \nnowhere  more  so  than  in  Massachusetts. \nSince  the  New  England  people  were  fitted  by \ntheir  temperament  and  history  to  take  the \nlead  in  the  struggle,  at  their  chief  town  nat- \nurally took  place  the  more  important  inci- \ndents. These,  which  were  often  dramatic, \nhad  nevertheless  a  political  cause  and  sig- \nnificance which  link  them  in  a  rising  series \n\n\n2  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nthat  ended   in   a   violent  outbreak   and  the \neleven  months'  leaguer. \n\nAs  to  the  siege  itself,  it  varies  an  old  situa- \ntion, for  Boston  was  beset  by  its  own  neigh- \nbors in  defence  of  the  common  rights.  Pre- \nviously the  king's  troops,  though  regarded \nas  invaders,  had  been  but  half-hearted  op- \npressors;  it  was  the  people  themselves  who \npersistently  provoked  difficulties.  The  siege \nproper  is  of  striking  military  interest,  for  its \nhostilities  begin  by  the  repulse  of  an  armed \nexpedition  into  a  community  of  farmers,  con- \ntinue with  a  pitched  battle  between  regular \ntroops  and  a  militia,  produce  a  general  of \ncommanding  abilities,  and  end  with  a  stra- \ntegic move  of  great  skill  and  daring.  It  is \nthe  first  campaign  of  a  great  war,  and  precedes \nthe  birth  of  a  nation.  Politically,  the  cause \nof  the  struggle  is  of  enduring  consequence  to \nmankind.  Socially,  the  siege  and  its  prelim- \ninaries bring  to  view  people  of  all  kinds, \nsome  weak,  some  base,  some  picturesque, \nsome  entirely  admirable.  The  period  shows \nthe  breaking  up  of  an  old  society  and  the  for- \n\n\nBeginnings  and  Conditions  3 \n\nmation  of  a  new.     A  study  of  the  siege  is \ntherefore  of  value. \n\nIt  will  be  observed  that  the  siege  cannot \nsatisfactorily  be  considered  as  a  distinct \nseries  of  military  or  semi-military  events, \nabruptly  beginning  and  still  more  abruptly \nending.  Such  a  view  would  reduce  the  siege \nto  a  mere  matter  of  local  history,  having  little \nconnection  with  the  larger  movements  of  the \nAmerican  Revolution,  and  appearing  almost \nas  an  accident  which  might  have  happened \nat  any  other  centre  of  sufficient  population.1 \nOn  the  contrary,  neither  the  siege  nor  the \nRevolution  were  accidents  of  history.  That \nthe  Revolution  was  bound  to  come  about, \nand  that  its  beginnings  were  equally  bound  to \nbe  at  Boston,  these  were  conditioned  in  the \nnature,  first  of  the  colonists  in  general,  and \nsecond  of  the  New  Englanders  in  particular. \n\n1  It  may  appear  to  a  hasty  consideration  that  Froth- \ningham's  \"  Siege  of  Boston  \"  treats  the  siege  as  an  isolated \nmilitary  event.  It  must,  however,  be  remembered  that \nMr.  Frothingham  had  treated  previous  events  in  a  pre- \nliminary volume,  his  \"  Life  of  Joseph  Warren.\" \n\n\n4  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nHowever  striking  were  certain  of  the  occur- \nrences, they  were  of  less  importance  than \ntheir  causes  and  consequences. \n\nAccordingly  I  shall  consider  as  an  organic \nseries  the  more  important  of  those  events \nwhich  happened  in  Boston  during  the  reign \nof  George  the  Third,  and  which  ended  when \nthe  last  of  his  redcoats  departed  from  the \ntown.  In  fact,  in  order  to  be  perfectly  in- \ntelligible I  must  first  devote  a  few  pages  to \na  consideration  of  previous  conditions. \n\n\"Any  one,\"  wrote  George  E.  Ellis  in  the \n\"  Memorial  History  of  Boston,\"1  \"who  at- \ntempts to  trace  the  springs,  the  occasions,  and \nthe  directing  forces  of  the  revolt  .  .  .  cannot \nfind  his  clew  a  year  short  of  the  date  when \nthe  former  self-governed  Colony  of  Massa- \nchusetts Bay  became  a  Royal  Province.\" \nHe  is  right  in  pointing  out  that  in  1692  the \nstruggle  took  open  form.  Yet  even  then \nthe  controversy  was  not  new.  In  other \nform  it  had  been  carried  on  for  more  than \nhalf  a  century  previous.  Its  ultimate  origin \n\n1  \"Memorial  History  of  Boston,\"  ii,  31. \n\n\nBeginnings  and  Conditions  5 \n\nlay  in  the  fact  that  the  very  charter  under \nwhich  the  colony  was  planted  differed  from \nall  other  documents  granted  by  any  English \nking. \n\n.  This  difference  lay  in  the  omission  of  the \ncondition,  usual  in  such  charters,  that  its \ngoverning  board  should  meet  in  London \npractically  for  the  purpose  of  supervision \nby  the  king.  That  the  omission  of  this  con- \ndition was  the  result  of  wisdom  on  the  part  of \nthe  founders,  and  stupidity  on  the  part  of \nthe  officers  of  the  king,  seems  undeniable. \nThe  founders,  unhappy  and  alarmed  at  the \npolitical  and  religious  situation  in  England \nunder  Charles  the  First,  were  seeking  to  pro- \nvide for  themselves  and  their  families  a  refuge \nfrom  his  oppressions.  Secure  in  their  charter, \nthey  presently  left  England  for  good.  When \nthey  sailed  for  America  they  did  all  that \ncould  be  done  to  cut  themselves  off  from  in- \nterference by  the  crown. \n\nAt  intervals,  extremely  valuable  for  the \nfuture  of  America,  the  Massachusetts  colony \ncertainly  was  free  of  all  restraint.  Charles's \n\n\n6  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nbenediction  seems  to  have  been  \"Good  rid- \ndance ! \"  From  the  crown  the  colonists  re- \nceived no  assistance  whatever,  and  it  was \nlong  both  their  boast  and  their  plea  that  they \nhad  planted  the  colony  \"at  their  own  ex- \npense.\" They  were  left  to  work  out  their \nown  salvation.1  As  a  result,  their  passionate \ndesire  for  freedom  from  interference  by  the \nking  grew  into  the  feeling  that  they  had  earned \nit  as  a  right.  Englishmen  they  were  still,  and \nsubjects  of  the  king;  but  to  the  privileges \nof  Englishmen  they  had  added  the  right  to \nmanage  their  own  affairs.  The  English  king \nand  the  English  law  were  to  help  them  in \ntheir  difficulties  and  to  settle  cases  of  appeal. \nIn  return  they  would  grant  money  and  fight \nfor  the  king  when  necessary ;  but  in  the  mean- \ntime they  would  live  by  themselves. \n\nTaking  advantage  of  the  clause  in  their \ncharter  which  authorized  them  \"to  ordain \nand  establish  all  manner  of  wholesome  and \n\n1  \"  They  nourished  by  your  indulgence  ?  They  grew \nup  by  your  neglect  of  them  !\"  Barre's  speech  in  Par- \nliament, February,  1765. \n\n\nBeginnings  and  Conditions  7 \n\nreasonable  orders,  laws,  statutes,  and  ordi- \nnances,\" they  speedily  took  to  themselves \neverything  but  the  name  of  independence. \nThey  instituted  courts  for  all  purposes,  set \nup  their  legislative  government,  raised  their \nown  taxes,  whether  general  or  local,  and \nperfected  that  wonderful  instrument  of  re- \nsistance to  oppression,  New  England  town \ngovernment.  They  even  coined  money.  And, \ndifferent  from  most  of  the  other  colonies,  they \nchose  their  governor  from  among  their  own \nnumber. \n\nDistance  and  home  difficulties  —  for  the \nStuart  kings  usually  had  their  hands  full  of \ntrouble  with  their  subjects  — favored  the  non- \ninterference which  the  colonists  craved. \nWhen,  however,  the  Stuarts  had  any  leisure \nat  all,  they  at  once  devoted  it  to  quarrelling \nwith  their  subjects  in  New  England.  Even \nto  the  easy-going  Charles  II  the  cool  aloof- \nness of  the  colonists  was  a  bit  too  strong ; \nto  his  father  and  brother  it  was  intolerable. \n\nThe  invariable  methods  of  the  colonists, \nwhen  facing  a  demand  from  the  king,  were \n\n\n8  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nevasion  and  delay.  \"Avoid  or  protract\" \nwere  Winthrop's  own  words  in  1635.  In \n1684  the  General  Court  wrote  advising  their \nattorney,  employed  in  England  in  defending \nthe  charter,  \"to  spin  out  the  case  to  the  utter- \nmost.\"1 Once  and  once  only  until  the  Revo- \nlution —  in  the  case  of  the  seizing  of  Andros \n—  did  the  men  of  Massachusetts  proceed  to \naction.  Their  habitual  policy  was  safe,  and, \non  the  whole,  successful.  Slow  communication \n(one  voyage  of  commissioners  from  Boston \nto  England  took  three  months),  and  the  ex- \nistence in  England  of  a  strong  party  of  friends, \nhelped  powerfully  to  obscure  and  obliterate  the \nissues.  Yet  Charles  I  in  1640,  and  James  II \nin  1689,  made  preparations  to  reduce  the \ncolony  to  proper  subjection,  by  force  if  nec- \nessary. \n\nIt  was  doubtless  well  for  Massachusetts \nthat  both  Charles  and  James  were  presently \ndethroned,  for  against  the  power  of  England \nno  successful  resistance  could  then  have  been \nmade.  New  England,  indeed,  might  have \n\n1  \"Memorial  History  of  Boston,\"  i,  340,  376. \n\n\nBeginnings  and  Conditions  9 \n\nbeen  united  against  the  king,  but  it  is  very \nunlikely  that  the  other  colonies  would  have \ngiven  their  help.  Some  generations  more \nwere  needed  before  the  aristocrats  of  Virginia \ncould  feel  themselves  at  one  with  the  Puritans \nof  New  England. \n\nYet  it  is  interesting  to  notice  the  spirit  of \nMassachusetts.  On  the  news  of  Charles's  in- \ntentions the  colony  prepared  for  resistance. \nIn  James's  time  it  went  a  step  further.  When \nthe  news  came  of  the  expedition  of  William \nof  Orange,  Massachusetts  cast  in  its  lot  with \nhim.  Without  waiting  to  learn  the  result \nof  the  struggle,  Boston  rose  against  James's \nunpopular  governor,  and  imprisoned  him  in \nthe  Castle.  The  act  was  heroic,  for  the \nBloody  Assizes  had  taught  the  world  what \npunishment  the  cowardly  king  meted  out  to \nrebels. \n\nIt  will  be  noticed  that  the  political  status \nof  Massachusetts  was  already  changed.  After \nmany  delays  Charles  II  had  abrogated  the \ncharter.  His  death  followed  almost  immedi- \nately, and  Andros  had  been  appointed  at \n\n\nio  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nthe  head  of  a  provisional  government.  Doubt- \nless the  resistance  to  him  had  been  inspired \nby  the  hope  that  the  old  charter  might  be \nrestored.  Instead,  William,  when  once  se- \ncure on  the  throne,  issued  a  new  charter. \nUnder  its  provisions  the  colony,  now  a  prov- \nince, lived  until  the  Revolution.  In  order \nthat  the  events  leading  up  to  the  siege  may \nbe  understood,  it  will  be  well  to  consider \nthe  provisions  of  the  new  governmental \nmachinery. \n\nAt  the  head  of  the  province  were  to  be  a \ngovernor  and  a  lieutenant-governor,  both  ap- \npointed by  the  king.  Their  powers  were  ex- \necutive, with  the  right  of  veto  over  legislation, \nand  also  over  certain  appointments  by  the \nlegislature.  Laws  passed  by  this  legislature \nand  not  vetoed  by  the  governor  or  the  king \nwere  to  go  in  force  three  years  after  their  en- \nactment. The  legislature  had  two  houses, \nthe  lower  a  popular  chamber,  called  the  As- \nsembly, elected  by  the  towns.  The  upper \nbranch  was  called  the  Council.  The  first \nCouncil  was  appointed  by  the  king ;  later \n\n\nBeginnings  and  Conditions  n \n\nmembers  were  to  be  nominated  by  the  As- \nsembly for  the  approval  of  the  governor. \nThe  Assembly  and  Council  formed  together \nthe  Great  and  General  Court.  Judges  were \nto  be  chosen  by  the  governor  and  Council,  but \nall  officers  were  to  be  paid  by  the  General \nCourt.  As  will  be  seen  later,  in  the  case  of  the \nWrits  of  Assistance,  appeal  could  be  taken \nto  the  English  courts. \n\nAnd  now  for  the  first  time  became  evident \nthe  fact  that  three  generations  of  practical \nindependence  had  bred  in  America  a  race  of \nmen  —  or  it  may  be  better  to  say  had  fostered \na  school  of  thought  —  that  never  could  agree \nin  submitting  to  a  distant  and  arbitrary \nauthority.  In  the  seventy  years  which  fol- \nlowed, New  England  showed  this  spirit  in \nmany  ways.  The  most  prominent  cause  of \ndisagreement  was  the  question  of  the  gov- \nernor's prerogatives,  resulting  in  constant \nbickerings  with  the  crown. \n\nThe  principle,  of  course,  lay  deeper  still. \nOn  the  one  side  were  sovereigns  whose  powers \nwere  not  yet  definitely  restricted,  and  who \n\n\n12  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nwere  likely  to  resent  any  apparent  tendency \nto  make  them  less.  On  the  other  side  was \na  people  who  had  progressed  far  in  self-gov- \nernment, and  who  resisted  any  limitation  of \ntheir  rights.  It  is  not  the  purpose  of  this  book \nto  trace  the  earlier  unification  of  the  colonies \nunder  pressure  from  without.  By  the  year \n1760  that  process  was  approaching  com- \npletion ;  there  was,  therefore,  in  America  a \nstronger  feeling  than  ever,  while  across  the \nwater  was  that  new  ruler  into  whose  youth- \nful ears  his  mother  had  continually  dinned \nthe  words,  \"George,  be  king!\" \n\nIt  is  well  to  understand  the  status  of  a \ncolony  in  those  days,  and  the  difficulties  with \nwhich  its  inhabitants  struggled.  Yet  it  is \nhard  for  the  modern  man  to  conceive  the \nrestrictions  upon  freedom.  From  earliest  days \nthere  had  been  discontent  with  the  king's \nclaim  to  the  finest  trees  in  the  public  forests, \nthe  \"mast  trees\"  which,  reserved  for  the  king's \nnavy,  no  man  might  lawfully  cut.1  Exporta- \ntion of  lumber,  except  to  England  and  the \n\n1  See,  on  this  point,  Sabine's  \"American  Loyalists,\"  7. \n\n\nBeginnings  and  Conditions  13 \n\nBritish  West  Indies,  was  long  illegal.  Trade \nwith  the  French  and  Spanish  islands  was  pro- \nhibited entirely,  and  trade  in  many  products \nof  home  manufacture  (tobacco,  sugar,  wool, \ndye-stuffs,  furs,  are  prominent  examples)  was \nforbidden  \"to  any  place  but  Great  Britain  — \neven  to  Ireland.\" 1  Certain  merchandise  might \nbe  imported  at  will,  subject  to  duty ;  but \nmost  articles  could  be  bought,  and  sold,  only \nthrough  Great  Britain. \n\nFurther,  internal  commerce  and  manufac- \nture were  severely  hampered.  No  wool  or \nwoollen  product  might  be  carried  from  one \nprovince  to  another.  The  Bible  might  not \nbe  printed.  The  making  of  hats  was  almost \nentirely  suppressed.  The  manufacture  of  iron, \non  a  scale  Sufficient  to  compete  with  English \nwares,  was  practically  prohibited  —  as  a  \"nui- \nsance.\"2 \n\nUnder  all  these  restrictions  the  colonies \nwere  not  as  yet  restive.  To  be  sure  there \n\n1  Bancroft's  \"United  States,\"  ed.  1855,  v,  265.     Ref- \nerences to  Bancroft  will  at  first  be  to  this  edition. \n\n2  Bancroft's  \"United  States,\"  v,  266. \n\n\n14  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nwere  smuggling  and  illicit  trade,  and  griev- \nances in  plenty;  yet  the  stress  of  colonial \nlife,  the  continual  danger  from  the  north \nand  west,  had  kept  the  provincials  satisfied \nas  a  body.  And  now,  at  the  opening  of  the \nreign  of  George  III,  with  the  French  driven \nout  of  Canada  and  the  Mississippi  Valley, \nand  the  Indians  subdued,  there  should  have \nbeen  concord  between  the  colonists  and  the \nking. \n\nThe  comparison  between  the  two  is  very \nstriking,  while  at  the  same  time  it  is  not \neasily  brought  home  to  the  city  dweller  of \nto-day.  City  government  gives  the  individual \na  chance  to  bury  himself  in  the  mass,  and  to \navoid  his  duties ;  further,  our  cities  are  now \nmany,  and  very  large,  while  we  are  notoriously \npatient  under  misrule.  In  1760,  on  the \nother  hand,  few  towns  had  as  yet  adopted \ncity  government.  Boston  was  the  largest \ntown,  and  its  population  was  little  more  than \nfifteen  thousand.  So  well  did  its  enemies \nunderstand  one  reason  for  its  truculence,  that \nthey  even  considered  means  to  force  upon \n\n\nBeginnings  and  Conditions  15 \n\nthe  town  a  city  charter.  The  question  came, \nhowever,  to  no  definite  proposition.  The \ntown  therefore  proceeded  with  its  open  dis- \ncussion of  all  public  questions,  with  its  right \nof  free  speech  in  town  meetings  extended \neven  to  strangers,  and  with  its  viva  voce  vote \nletting  each  man  know  where  his  neighbor \nstood.  \"The  town\"  was  an  entity  of  which \neach  man  felt  himself  a  part.  As  a  whole,  its \nself-consciousness  was  like  that  of  an  indi- \nvidual :  it  could  feel  a  trespass  on  its  privi- \nleges as  quickly  as  could  the  haughtiest  mon- \narch of  the  old  world.  And  all  New  England \nwas  filled  with  towns  whose  feelings,  on  all \nessential  points,  were  one  and  the  same. \n\nAgainst  the  town-meetings  of  America  stood \nGeorge  III,  as  determined  to  assert  his  pre- \nrogatives as  was  any  member  of  the  house  of \nStuart.  Still  comparatively  young,  he  had \nnot  yet  learned  that  there  are  limitations  of \npower,  even  to  a  king.  And  it  was  to  the \nmisfortune  of  his  empire  that  there  were  few \nin  England  to  teach  him. \n\nFor  the  old   Puritan   middle   class   of  the \n\n\n1 6  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nStuart  days  was  gone.  Its  fibre  had  softened ; \nthe  class  itself  had  disappeared  in  the  easier- \ngoing  masses  of  a  more  prosperous  day.  For \nseventy-five  years  England  had  had  no  in- \nternal dissensions,  and  her  foreign  wars  had \nadded  to  her  wealth  and  contentment.  To \nher  well-wishers  it  seemed  as  if  the  people \nhad  given  itself  to  sloth  and  indulgence.  \"I \nam  satisfied,\"  wrote  Burke,  \"that,  within  a \nfew  years,  there  has  been  a  great  change  in \nthe  national  character.  We  seem  no  longer \nthat  eager,  inquisitive,  jealous,  fiery  people \nwhich  we  have  been  formerly,  and  which  we \nhave  been  a  very  short  time  ago.\"  1  Eng- \nland was  the  country  of  Tom  Jones,  hearty \nand  healthy,  but  animated  by  no  high  prin- \nciples and  keyed  to  no  noble  actions.  It \nneeded  the  danger  of  the  Napoleonic  wars  to \nbring  out  once  more  the  sturdy  manliness  of \nthe  nation.  Through  all  the  earlier  reign  of \nGeorge  III  there  was,  to  be  sure,  a  remainder \nof  the  old  high-minded  spirit.  Chatham  and \nRockingham,  Burke,  Barre,  and  others,  spoke \n\n1Trevelyan,  \"American  Revolution,\"  Part  i,  21. \n\n\nBeginnings  and  Conditions  17 \n\nin  public  and  private  for  the  rights  of  the \ncolonists,  to  whom  their  encouragement  gave \nstrength.  But  the  greater  part  of  the  Eng- \nlish people  was  so  indifferent  to  the  moral \nand  political  significance  of  the  quarrel  that \nthe  king  was  practically  able  to  do  as  he \npleased. \n\nHe  proceeded  on  the  assumption  that  every \nman  had  his  price.  The  assumption  was \nunhappily  too  correct,  for  he  was  able  to \ngather  round  him,  in  Parliament  or  the  civil \nservice,  his  own  party,  the  \"King's  Friends,\" \nwho  served  him  for  the  profit  that  they  got. \nNo  tale  of  modern  corruption  can  surpass \nthe  record  of  their  plundering  of  a  nation. \nWith  this  goes  a  story  of  gambling,  drinking, \nand  general  loose  living  which,  while  the  at- \ntention is  concentrated  on  it,  rouses  the \nbelief  that  the  nation  was  wholly  degenerate, \nuntil  the  recollection  of  the  remnant,  Chat- \nham and  the  party  of  the  Earl  of  Rocking- \nham,  gives  hope  of  the  salvation  of  the  coun- \ntry. \n\nAt  any  rate,  for  more  than  fifteen  years  of \n\n\n1 8  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nhis  reign  the  king  was  in  the  ascendant. \nThere  was  no  party  to  depose  him,  scarcely \none  strong  enough  to  curb  him,  even  at  times \nof  popular  indignation.  He  was,  therefore, \nas  no  other  king  had  been  before  him,  able  to \nforce  the  issue  upon  the  colonies,  in  spite  of \nthe  protests  of  the  few  friends  of  liberty.  In \ncomplete  ignorance  of  the  strength  of  the \ncolonists,  both  in  resources  and  in  purpose, \nhe  proceeded  to  insist  upon  his  rights.  When \nit  is  remembered  that  those  rights,  according \nto  his  interpretation  of  them,  were  to  tax \nwithout  representation,  to  limit  trade  and \nmanufactures,  and  to  interfere  at  will  in  the \nmanagement  of  colonial  affairs,  it  will  be \nseen  that  he  was  playing  with  fire. \n\nThe  danger  will  appear  the  greater  if  it  is \nconsidered  that  the  population  of  the  colo- \nnies had  not  progressed,  like  that  of  England, \nto  days  of  easy  tolerance.  The  Americans, \nand  especially  the  New  Englanders,  were  of \nthe  same  stuff  as  those  who  had  beheaded \nCharles  I,  and  driven  James  II  from  his \nkingdom.  They  had  among  their  military \n\n\nBeginnings  and  Conditions  19 \n\nofficers  plenty  of  such  men  as  Pomeroy,  who, \ndestined  to  fight  at  Bunker  Hill,  wrote  from \nthe  siege  of  Louisburg :  \"It  looks  as  if  our \ncampaign  would  last  long ;  but  I  am  willing \nto  stay  till  God's  time  comes  to  deliver  the \ncity  into  our  hands.\"  1  Many  besides  himself \nwrote,  and  even  spoke,  in  Biblical  language. \nThere  were  still  heard,  in  New  England,  the \nechoes  of  the  \"Great  Awakening\";  the \npreaching  of  Whitefield  and  others  had  every- \nwhere roused  a  keen  religious  feeling,  and \nthe  people  were  as  likely  as  ever  to  open \ntown-meeting  with  prayer,  and  to  go  into \nbattle  with  psalms. \n\nSuch,  then,  were  the  contestants  in  the \nstruggle.  On  the  one  side  was  the  king  with \nhis  privileges,  backed  by  his  Parliamentary \nmajority,  and  having  at  command  an  efficient \narmy  and  navy,  and  a  full  treasury.  There \nwas  at  hand  no  one  to  resist  him  successfully \nat  home,  none  to  whose  warnings  he  would \nlisten.  And  on  the  other  side  were  the  colo- \nnists, quite  capable  of  fighting  for  what  they \n\n1  \"Memorial  History  of  Boston,\"  ii,  116. \n\n\n2O  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nknew  to  be  the  \"rights  of  Englishmen.\" \nBoth  hoped  to  proceed  peaceably.  In  igno- \nrance, each  was  hoping  for  the  impossible,  for \nthe  king  would  not  retreat,  and  the  colonists \nwould  not  yield.  As  soon  as  each  under- \nstood the  other's  full  intention,  there  would \nbe  a  rupture. \n\n\n(put**!* \n\n\nCHAPTER  II \n\nWRITS    OF    ASSISTANCE    AND    THE    STAMP   ACT \n\nTHE  men  who,  whether  in  America  or \nEngland,  took  sides  with  the  king  or \nthe  colonies  as  Tories  and  Whigs,  or  as \n\"prerogative  men\"  and  \"friends  of  liberty,\" \nfall  naturally  into  two  classes.  A  line  of \ncleavage  could  be  seen  at  the  time,  and  can \neven  be  traced'  now,  among  the  supporters  of \neither  side,  according  as  they  followed  prin- \nciple or  self-interest.  There  were  those  who \nsought  profit  in  supporting  the  colonies,  as \nwell  as  those  who  knowingly  faced  loss  in \ndefending  the  king.  It  is  well  for  Americans \nto  remember,  therefore,  that  while  many \nsided  with  the  king  for  what  they  could  get, \nthere  were  others  whose  minds  could  not \nconceive  a  country  without  a  king,  or  a  sub- \nject with  inalienable  rights.  The  best  of  the \nTories  honestly  believed  the  Whig  agitation \n\n\n21 \n\n\n22  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nto  be  \"unnatural,  causeless,  wanton,  and \nwicked.\"  1  Such  Americans  were,  in  the  in- \nevitable struggle,  truly  martyrs  to  their \nbeliefs. \n\nNevertheless,  just  as  there  was  naturally \nmore  profit  or  prominence  (and  the  two  were \noften  the  same)  on  the  king's  side,  so  his \nparty  had  the  more  self-seekers.  \"The  cause \nis  not  worth  dying  for,\"  said  Ingersoll,  facing \nthe  Connecticut  farmers,  and  spoke  the  senti- \nment of  all  the  stamp-officers  who  resigned \ntheir  positions  at  the  demand  of  the  people. \nThe  cause,  however,  did  seem  worth  working \nfor.  There  were  many,  in  England  and \nAmerica,  who,  like  those  whom  Otis  saw \naround  him,  \"built  much  upon  the  fine \nsalaries  they  should  receive  from  the  planta- \ntion branch  of  the  revenue.\"  Position,  pay, \nand  the  chance  to  exploit  the  revenues  as  this \nwas  done  in  England,  were  the  temptations \nwhich  brought  many  to  the  side  of  the  king, \n\n1The  adjectives  are  those  of  Massachusettensis,  the \nablest  Tory  pamphleteer,  as  quoted  in  Frothingham's \n\"Siege,\"  33. \n\n\nWrits  of  Assistance  and  the  Stamp  Act     23 \n\nand  which  made  men  unite  to  urge  upon  him \nthe  acts  which  he  desired  for  less  selfish  rea- \nsons. \n\nUrged  by  principle,  then,  or  excited  by \nself-interest,  the  proposers  of  new  measures \nwere  strong.  The  earliest  act  of  the  king's \nreign  showed  what  could  and  what  would  be \ndone,  and  brought  upon  the  Boston  stage  the \nfirst  of  the  actors  in  the  drama.  On  the  one \nhand  were  the  governor,  the  justices,  and  the \nminor  officials,  on  the  other  the  people's  self- \nappointed  —  but  willingly  accepted  —  leaders. \n\nFrancis  Bernard  was  the  first  Massachu- \nsetts governor  under  George  III.  Bernard \narrived  August  2,  1760 ;  the  old  king  died  on \nOctober  25  ;  and  in  November  the  customs \nofficials,  stimulated  by  orders  from  home  to \nenforce  the  provisions  of  the  Sugar  Act  of \n1733,  petitioned  for  \"writs  of  assistance,\"  to \nempower  them  to  summon  help  in  forcible \nentries  in  search  of  smuggled  goods.  Now \nthere  can  be  no  doubt  that  there  was  smug- \ngling in  the  colony,  even  in  Boston  itself.  On \nthe  other  hand,  the  officials  were  inquisitorial \n\n\n24  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nand  rapacious.  Once  they  were  armed  with \nwrits  of  assistance,  no  dwelling  would  be  safe \nfrom  entry  by  them.  The  struggle  was  at  once \nbegun,  and  in  the  council  chamber  of  the  old \nTown  House  was  fought  out  before  the  eyes  of \nthe  province. \n\nThe  scene  is  pictured  on  the  walls  of  the \nmodern  State  House.  Chief  among  the  jus- \ntices sat  Thomas  Hutchinson,  a  man  of \nproperty  and  education,  and  an  excellent \nhistorian,  but  the  very  type  of  office-holder, \nand  by  prejudice  and  interest  a  partisan  of \nthe  king.  Against  him  stood  James  Otis,  the \nfirst  of  the  Massachusetts  orators  of  liberty, \na  man  of  good  family,  and,  like  so  many  of \nthe  patriot  leaders,  a  lawyer.  His  speech  was \nthe  first  definite  pronouncement  for  a  new \norder  of  things. \n\n\"I  am  determined,\"  he  said,  \"to  sacrifice \nestate,  ease,  health,  applause,  and  even  life, \nto  the  sacred  calls  of  my  country.\"  He \nreferred  to  the  \"kind  of  power,  the  exercise \nof  which  cost  one  king  of  England  his  head \nand  another  his  throne.\"  Such  language, \n\n\nWrits  of  Assistance  and  the  Stamp  Act     25 \n\npublicly  spoken,  was  new.  His  argument \nwas,  to  Englishmen,  irrefutable.  No  prece- \ndent, no  English  statute,  could  stand  against \nthe  Constitution.  \"This  writ,  if  declared \nlegal,  totally  annihilates\"  the  privacy  of \nthe  home.  \"Custom-house  officers  might \nenter  our  houses  when  they  please,  and  we \ncould  not  resist  them.  Upon  bare  suspicion \nthey  could  exercise  this  wanton  power.  .  .  . \nBoth  reason  and  the  Constitution  are  against \nthis  writ.  .  .  .  Every  act  against  the  Con- \nstitution is  void.\"  l  The  speech,  continued \nfor  four  hours,  was  a  brilliant  example  of \nkeen  logic  combined  with  burning  eloquence. \n\nThis  is  Otis's  great  service  to  the  cause  of \nthe  Revolution.  Fiery  and  magnetic,  but \nmoody  and  eventually  unbalanced,  he  gave \nplace  in  the  public  confidence  to  men  per- \nhaps of  lesser  talents,  but  with  equal  zeal  and \nsteadier  purpose.  Yet  his  service  was  in- \nvaluable. His  speech  expressed  for  his  coun- \ntrymen the  indignation  of  the  hour,  and  it \npointed  the  way  to  younger  men.  To  one \n\n1  \"Memorial  History  of  Boston,\"  iii,  5. \n\n\n26  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nat  least  of  his  hearers,  John  Adams,  it  was \n\"like  the  oath  of  Hamilcar  administered  to \nHannibal.\"  1  To  many  it  was  the  final  appeal \nthat  settled  them  in  their  patriotism.  For \nhistory  the  scene  has  been  called  the  begin- \nning of  the  Revolution. \n\nYet  it  had  no  immediate  results,  for  Hutch- \ninson  —  and  the  service  was  forgotten  by \nneither  his  friends  nor  his  opponents  —  se- \ncured delay  of  judgment  in  the  case  until  the \nEnglish  courts  could  uphold  him  against  his \nwavering  associates.  Nevertheless,  it  is  safe \nto  assume  that  the  public  indignation  secured \nmoderate  measures  on  the  part  of  the  cus- \ntoms officials,  since  we  hear  of  few  com- \nplaints. And  the  affair  had  its  influence  on \nthe  public  attitude  toward  the  Stamp  Act, \nfive  years  later. \n\nThe  Stamp  Act  was  the  first  definite  asser- \ntion of  the  right  to  tax  America.  In  1763 \nthe  Sugar  Act  had  been  reenacted,  but  its \nprovisions,  taxing  only  importations  from \nforeign  colonies,  yielded  little  revenue.  The \n\n1  \"Memorial  History  of  Boston,\"  iii,  7. \n\n\nWrits  of  Assistance  and  the  Stamp  Act    27 \n\nking's  treasury  was  already  feeling  the  drains \nupon  it,  and  a  pack  of  eager  office-seekers \nwas  clamoring  to  be  let  loose  upon  the  rev- \nenues of  the  colonies.  Together  the  king  and \nhis  friends  pushed  through  Parliament  the \nlegislation  which  was  to  secure  their  purposes. \nTo  meet  any  such  danger  as  in  the  recent \nFrench  and  Indian  wars,  ten  thousand  sol- \ndiers were  to  be  quartered  on  the  colonies, \nwhich  were  to  pay  for  their  maintenance. \nCertain  sops  to  public  sentiment  were  given, \nin  the  shape  of  concessions,  yet  new  restric- \ntions were  laid  on  foreign  trade.  And  finally \nand  most  important,  a  stamp-tax,  the  easiest \nto  collect,  was  laid  on  business  and  legal \nformalities  of  all  kinds.  After  its  passage  no \nland  title  might  be  passed,  no  legal  papers \nissued,  no  ship  might  clear  from  a  home  port, \nwithout  a  stamp  affixed  to  the  necessary \ndocuments.  Not  even  inheritances  might  be \ntransferred,  nor  marriages  be  legalized. \n\nThis  was  the  first  internal  taxation  laid \nby  England  on  America.  A  word  is  neces- \nsary as  to  the  meaning  of  the  phrase  in  those \n\n\n28  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\ndays.  An  external  tax,  perhaps  merely  an \nexport  duty,  was  levied  and  paid  in  Eng- \nland ;  its  effect  was  seen  in  higher  prices  in \nthe  colonies.  Internal  taxation  would  in- \nclude all  taxes  actually  paid  in  America  on \ngoods  coming  from  England.  The  provisions \nof  the  Sugar  Act  were  regarded  as  \"trade  re- \nstrictions,\" and  not  as  intended  to  raise  an \nEnglish  revenue. \n\nThere  is  perhaps  no  better  place  to  discuss \nthe  justice  of  the  Revolution  than  right  here. \nEven  to-day  the  illegality,  the  utter  wrong- \nfulness  of  the  American  position,  is  occasion- \nally raised  among  us  by  those  who  see  the \ngreat  obligations  to  the  mother  country  under \nwhich  the  colonies  lay,  and  who  recall  the \nneedless  hardships  suffered  by  the  wretched \nTories,  the  martyrs  of  a  lost  cause.  Doubt- \nless wrongs  were  inflicted  in  the  course  of  the \nstruggle,  and  the  great  expenditures  of  Eng- \nland were  in  large  part  unrequited.  But  it \nmust  be  remembered  that  the  world  had  not \nyet  reached  the  point  where  the  losers  in  a \nwar  were  gently  treated,  and  that  no  amount \n\n\nWrits  of  Assistance  and  the  Stamp  Act    29 \n\nof  financial  obligation  will  ever  compel  to  the \nacceptance  of  political  servitude.  By  habit  of \nmind  and  force  of  circumstances  America  had \ndeveloped  a  political  theory  puzzlingly  novel \nto  the  old  world  and  as  yet  not  thoroughly \nunderstood  by  the  new.  It  was  upon  this \nunformulated  theory  that  all  future  differences \nwere  to  arise.  It  interfered  in  all  affairs  in \nwhich  the  question  arose  :  Should  the  colonies \nbe  governed,  and  especially  should  they  be \ntaxed,  without  a  voice  in  their  own  affairs  ? \nNo  one  in  England  doubted  that  Parlia- \nment had  a  right  to  tax  America  without  its \nconsent.  Customs  restrictions  were  long  fa- \nmiliar. As  to  internal  taxation,  why,  it  was \nasked,  should  the  colonies  have  a  voice  in \nParliament  ?  Birmingham  and  Manchester, \ngreat  centres  of  population,  were  not  repre- \nsented, while  that  uninhabited  heap  of  stones, \nOld  Sarum,  sent  a  member  to  the  Commons. \nResting  on  these  abuses,  even  Pitt  and  Burke \nwere  content  to  argue  that  taxation  of  America \nwas  just.  For  them  it  was  a  question  whether \nthat  right  should  be  exercised. \n\n\n3O  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nWith  the  best  will  in  the  world  to  be  on \ngood  terms  with  the  mother  country,  America \ncould  not  agree  in  such  reasoning.  The  case \nhad  nothing  to  do  with  obligations.  As  for \nthese,  the  colonists  knew  that  England  would \nnever  have  won  against  the  French  in  Canada \nwithout  their  aid.  But  that  was  not  the \nquestion.  Should  those  who  for  a  hundred \nand  thirty-five  years  had  paid  no  tax  to  Eng- \nland pay  one  now  ?  Were  the  people  who \nfor  seventy  years  had  drawn  a  fine  distinc- \ntion between  paying  their  governor  of  their \nown  accord  and  paying  him  at  the  command \nof  the  king,  and  who  in  every  year  of  royal \ngovernorship  had  made  their  contention  plain \n—  were  they  to  be  satisfied  to  pay  taxes \nbecause  Birmingham  did  ? \n\nUndoubtedly  there  were  other  causes  for \ndiscontent.  \"  To  me,\"  says  Sabine,  in  the \npreface  to  his  \"American  Loyalists,\"  \"the \ndocumentary  history,  the  state  papers  of  the \nperiod  teach  nothing  more  clearly  than  this, \nnamely,  that  almost  every  matter  brought \ninto  discussion  was  practical,  and  in  some \n\n\nWrits  of  Assistance  and  the  Stamp  Act     3 1 \n\nform  or  other  related  to  LABOR,  to  some \nbranch  of  COMMON  INDUSTRY.\"  He  reminds  us \nthat  twenty-nine  laws  limited  industry  in  the \ncolonies,  and  concludes  that  \"the  great  object \nof  the  Revolution  was  to  release  LABOR  from \nthese  restrictions.\"  Undoubtedly  these  re- \nstrictive laws  had  their  effect  upon  the  temper \nof  the  people.  Undoubtedly  also  there  was \nmuch  fear  lest  there  should  be  established  in \nthe  colonies  a  bureaucracy  of  major  and \nminor  officials,  corruptly,  as  in  England,  win- \nning fortunes  for  themselves.  Yet  the  ques- \ntion of  taxation,  a  matter  of  merely  theoretical \nsubmission,  which  produced  no  hardship  and \nwould  not  impoverish  the  country,  was  the \nmain  cause  of  trouble.  The  two  branches  of \nthe  race  had  long  unconsciously  parted  their \nways,  and  the  realization  of  it  was  upon  them. \nUpon  the  proposal  of  the  Stamp  Act  the \ncolonies  did  everything  in  their  power  to \nprevent  the  passage  of  the  bill.  They  urged \nthat  internal  taxation  had  never  been  levied \nbefore.  Protests,  arguments,  and  petitions \nwere  sent  across  the  water,  but  in  vain.  The \n\n\n32  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nCommons  fell  back  upon  its  custom  \"to  re- \nceive no  petition  against  a  money  bill,\"  and \nwould  listen  to  nothing.  \"We  have  the \npower  to  tax  them,  and  we  will  tax  them.\"  1 \nAnd  following  this  utterance  of  one  of  the \nministry,  the  bill  was  passed. \n\nIt  is  interesting  to  note  that  no  resistance \nto  the  tax  was  expected.  Its  operation  was \nautomatic;  there  was  no  hardship  in  its  pro- \nvisions ;  of  course  the  colonists  would  yield. \nEven  Franklin,  who  should  have  known \nhis  countrymen  better,  expected  submission. \n\"The  sun  is  down,\"  he  wrote,  but  \"we  may \nstill  light  candles.  Frugality  and  industry \nwill  go  a  great  way  toward  indemnifying  us.\" \nHis  correspondent,  Charles  Thomson,  had  in \nthis  case  the  truer  foresight,  and  predicted \nthe  works  of  darkness.2 \n\nThroughout  the  colonies  there  was  not \nonly  sorrow,  but  anger.  When  even  Hutch- \ninson  had  protested  against  the  Stamp  Act, \n\n1  Bancroft's  \"United  States,\"  v,  247. \n\n2  Fiske,  \"American  Revolution,\"  illustrated  edition, \ni,  17. \n\n\nWrits  of  Assistance  and  the  Stamp  Act     33 \n\nit  can  be  seen  how  the  Whigs  would  feel. \nNon-importation  agreements  were  widely \nsigned,  and  people  accustomed  to  silks  and \nlaces  prepared  to  go  into  homespun.  But \nthe  act,  passed  in  February,  1765,  was  not \nto  go  into  effect  until  November.  Before \nthat  date,  much  could  be  done. \n\nWhat  was  done  came  from  the  lower  as \nwell  as  the  upper  classes.  The  people  acted \npromptly.  One  colony  after  another  sent \ncrowds  to  those  who  had  accepted,  in  advance, \nthe  positions  of  stamp-officers.  One  by  one, \nunder  persuasion  or  intimidation,  the  officers \nresigned  until  none  were  left.  In  New  York \nthe  governor  fled  to  the  military  for  pro- \ntection, and  from  the  parapet  of  the  fort \nlooked  helplessly  on  while  the  people  burnt \nbefore  his  eyes  his  own  coach,  containing \nimages  of  himself  and  the  devil.  But  before \nthis  happened,  Boston,  first  of  all  the  capitals \nto  take  a  positive  stand,  began  to  draw  upon \nitself  the  particular  resentment  of  the  king. \n\nEarly  in  August  came  to  Boston  the  news \nof  the  nomination  of  its  stamp-collector, \n\n\n34  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nAndrew  Oliver,  long  prominent  upon  the \nTory  side.  The  lower  class  of  the  inhabitants, \nafter  a  week  of  delay,  stirred  itself  to  action. \nOn  the  1 4th  the  image  of  Oliver  was  seen \nhanging  on  the  bough  of  a  large  elm,  then \nknown  as  the  Great  Tree.  Hutchinson \nordered  the  image  down,  but  as  the  sheriff \ndid  not  act,  Bernard  summoned  his  council, \nand  until  evening  fruitlessly  endeavored  to \nurge  them  to  action.  Then  the  populace, \nhaving  themselves  removed  the  image,  came \nto  the  Town  House,  and,  passing  directly \nthrough  it,  shouted  to  the  council,  still  sitting \nupstairs,  \"Liberty,  property,  and  no  stamps  !\" \nProceeding  with  perfect  order,  the  crowd  next \ntore  down  the  frame  of  a  building  which  Oliver \nwas  suspected  of  raising  to  use  as  his  office, \nand,  carrying  the  beams  to  Fort  Hill,  burnt \nthem  and  the  image  before  Oliver's  house. \nHutchinson,  who  never  lacked  personal \ncourage,  called  on  the  militia  colonel  to \nsummon  his  men  and  disperse  the  crowd,  but \nthe  colonel  replied  that  his  drummers  were \nin  the  mob.  Hutchinson  then  went  with  the \n\n\nWrits  of  Assistance  and  the  Stamp  Act     35 \n\nsheriff  to  order  the  crowd  to  disperse,  but \nwas  himself  forced  to  depart  in  order  to \nescape  violence.  The  next  day  Bernard,  the \ngovernor,  whose  courage  left  him  at  the  very \nthought  of  another  such  night,  fled  to  Castle \n\n\nTHE  HUTCHINSON  HOUSE \n\nWilliam,  behind  whose  ancient  walls  he  con- \nsidered himself  safe.  Oliver  hastily  resigned \nhis  office,  lest  the  mob  should  visit  him  again. \nThe  people  were  not  satisfied  with  the \nconduct  of  Hutchinson,  who,  although  he \nhad  actually  opposed  the  passage  of  the \n\n\n36  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nStamp  Act,  was  under  suspicion  of  secretly \nabetting  and  profiting  by  it.  After  twelve \ndays  there  was  a  second  outbreak ;  the  mob \nbegan  by  burning  the  records  of  the  vice- \nadmiralty  court,  went  on  to  invade  the  house \nof  the  comptroller  of  customs,  and  finally, \nworked  to  the  usual  pitch  of  a  mob's  courage, \nattacked  Hutchinson's  house.  With  his  family \nhe  escaped,  but  the  mob  broke  into  the  hand- \nsome mansion,  and  sacked  it  thoroughly. \nHis  library,  with  priceless  manuscripts  con- \ncerning the  history  of  the  colony,  was  scattered \nin  the  mud  of  the  street.  , \n\nThis  was  the  most  disgraceful  event  that \nhappened  in  Boston  during  all  the  long  period \npreceding  the  Revolution.  It  was  due  to \npopular  feeling,  wrongly  directed ;  and  to \nnew  working-men's  organizations,  not  as  yet \nunderstanding  the  task  that  was  before  them. \nThese  organizations,  as  yet  almost  formless, \nand  never  so  important  that  records  were \nkept,  called  themselves  the  Sons  of  Liberty, \nafter  a  phrase  used  by  Isaac  Barre,  in  a  speech \nin  Parliament  opposing  the  Stamp  Act.  The \n\n\nWrits  of  Assistance  and  the  Stamp  Act     37 \n\ntree  on  which  they  had  hung  the  image  of \nOliver  was  from  this  time  called  Liberty  Tree. \nThe  better  class  of  Boston  citizens  at  once, \nin  a  town  meeting  called  the  following  morn- \ning, declared  their  \"detestation  of  these \nviolent  proceedings,\"  and  promised  to  sup- \npress them  in  future.  We  shall  see  that  one \nmore  such  outbreak,  and  one  only,  was  made \nby  a  Boston  mob.  There  is  here  suggested \nan  unwritten,  perhaps  never  to  be  written, \nchapter  of  the  history  of  this  time.  By \nwhat  means  did  the  Boston  leaders,  Samuel \nAdams  chief  among  them,  manage  to  control \nthe  Boston  workmen  ?  However  it  was  done, \nby  what  conferences  and  through  what  reason- \ning, it  is  safe  to  say  that  the  loose  organizations \nof  the  Sons  of  Liberty,  and  still  another  set \nof  clubs,  the  caucuses  which  met  in  various \nparts  of  the  town,  were  utilized  to  control  the \nlower  classes.  We  know  the  names  of  a  few \nof  the  leaders  of  the  workmen:  Edes  the \nprinter,  Crafts  the  painter,  and,  most  noted \nof  them  all,  Paul  Revere  the  silversmith. \nThese  sturdy  men,  and  others  in  different \n\n\n38  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\ntrades,  were  the  means  of  transmitting  to \nthe  artisans  of  Boston  the  thoughts  and \ndesires  of  the  upper-class  Whigs.  The  or- \nganization was  looser  than  that  of  a  political \nparty  of  to-day,  but  as  soon  as  it  was  com- \npleted, it  produced  a  subordination,  secrecy, \nand  self-control  which  cannot  be  paralleled \nin  modern  times. \n\n(  The  opposition  to  the  Stamp  Act  con- \ntinued. More  formidable  than  mobs  were \nthe  actions  of  the  town  meetings  and  legis- \nlatures. Protests  and  declarations  were  sol- \nemnly drawn  up ;  for  the  first  time  was \nheard  the  threat  of  disaffection.  Represent- \natives from  nine  provinces  met  in  the  Stamp \nAct  Congress,  and  passed  resolutions  against \nthe  new  taxation. \n\n••  It  was  impossible  for  England  to  ignore \nthe  situation.  Reluctantly  —  it  was  an  act \nwhich  the  king  never  forgot  nor  forgave  — \nmore  than  a  year  after  its  passage,  when  it \nwas  proved  that  its  enforcement  was  im- \npossible, the  Stamp  Act  was  repealed. \n\nThis  was  the  time   for  England  to  change \n\n\nWrits  of  Assistance  and  the  Stamp  Act     39 \n\nher  whole  policy.  Not  Boston  alone,  but \nall  America,  had  declared  against  American \ntaxation.  The  principles  of  liberty  had  again \nand  again  been  clearly  pointed  out.  Further, \nthere  would  have  been  no  disgrace  in  ad- \nmitting a  mistake.  The  whole  colonial \nquestion  was  new  in  human  history,  for \nRoman  practice  was  inadmissible.  \"The \nbest  writers  on  public  law,\"  reasoned  Otis, \n\"contain  nothing  that  is  satisfactory  on  the \nnatural  rights  of  colonies.  .  .  .  Their  re- \nsearches are  often  but  the  history  of  ancient \nabuses.\"  1  The  natural  rights  of  man  should \nhave  been  allowed  to  rule,  as  in  the  course \nof  time,  with  England's  other  colonies,  they \ncame  to  do. \n\nBut,  for  better  or  for  worse,  sides  had  been \ntaken.  Few  thought  of  turning  back.  In \nEngland  there  were  no  breaks  in  the  ranks  of \nthe  king's  supporters ;  in  America  the  office- \nholding  class,  the  \"best  families,\"  the  people \nof  settled  income  and  vested  rights,  were  as \na  rule,  selfishly  or  unselfishly,  for  the  king. \n\nBancroft's  \"United  States,\"  v,  203. \n\n\n4<D  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nAlready  \"mobocracy,\"  \"the  faction,\"  \"se- \ndition,\" were  familiar  terms  among  them. \nEngland  was  ready  to  take,  and  the  Ameri- \ncan Tories  were  ready  to  applaud,  the  next \nstep.  And  Boston  was  being  marked  down \nas  the  most  obnoxious  of  the  towns  of  America.1 \n\nirThe  Castle,  or  Castle  William,  referred  to  in  this \nchapter,  was  the  old  fort  on  Castle  Island.  It  was  never \nput  to  any  other  use  than  as  a  barracks  and  magazine. \n\n\nCHAPTER  III \n\nCHARLES    TOWNSHEND,    SAM    ADAMS,    AND    THE \nMASSACRE \n\nUNFORTUNATELY,  when  the  Stamp \nAct  was  repealed,  the  way  had  been \nleft  open  for  future  trouble.  The \nRockingham  ministry,  the  most  liberal  which \ncould  then  be  assembled,  even  in  repealing  the \nStamp  Act  thought  it  incumbent  upon  them \nto  assert,  in  the  Declaratory  Act,  the  right \nto  tax  America.  The  succeeding  ministry, \ncalled  together  under  the  failing  Pitt,  was \nthe  means  of  reasserting  the  right.  Pitt, \ntoo  ill  to  support  the  labor  of  leading  his \nparty  in  the  Commons,  entered  the  House \nof  Lords  as  Earl  of  Chatham,  thus  acknowl- \nedging the  eclipse  of  fame  and  abilities  which \nin  the  previous  reign  had  astounded  Europe. \nIt  was  during  one  of  his  periods  of  illness, \nwhen  he  was  unable  to  attend  to  public  affairs, \n\n41 \n\n\n42  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nthat  a  subordinate  insubordinately  reversed \nhis  public  policy  by  proceeding  once  more \nto  tax  America. \n\nCharles  Townshend  was  Chancellor  of  the \nExchequer.  It  was  he  who  had  urged  the \nreenactment  of  the  Sugar  Act  in  1763,  and \nhe  now  saw  opportunity  to  put  through  a \nmore  radical  policy.  In  violation  of  all  im- \nplied pledges,  disdaining  restraint  from  his \ncolleagues,  this  brilliant  but  unstable  poli- \ntician introduced  into  Parliament  a  new  bill \nfor  raising  an  American  revenue.  \"I  am \nstill,\"1  he  declared,  \"a  firm  advocate  of  the \nStamp  Act.  ...  I  laugh  at  the  absurd \ndistinction  between  internal  and  external \ntaxation.  ...  It  is  a  distinction  without  a \ndifference;  if  we  have  a  right  to  impose  the \none,  we  have  a  right  to  impose  the  other ;  the \ndistinction  is  ridiculous  in  the  sight  of  every- \nbody, except  the  Americans.\" \n\n\"Everybody,  except  the  Americans  ! \"  The \nphrase,  from  an  important  speech  at  a  criti- \ncal moment,  marks  the  fact  that  a  world  of \n\n1  Bancroft,  vi,  48. \n\n\nThe  Massacre  43 \n\nthought  divided  the  two  parts  of  the  Empire \nmore  truly  than  did  the  Atlantic.  But  not \nas  yet  so  evidently.  It  is  only  in  uncon- \nscious acknowledgments  such  as  these  that \nwe  find  the  English  admitting  the  new  classi- \nfication. In  studying  the  years  before  and \nafter  this  event  we  find  the  Americans  often \ncalled  Puritans  and  Oliverians,  while  the \npossible  rise  of  a  Cromwell  among  them  is \nadmitted.  Yet  the  parallel,  though  unmis- \ntakably apt,  and  containing  a  serious  warning, \nwas  never  taken  to  heart,  even  in  America. \n\nAmericans  were  very  slow  in  approaching \nthe  conclusion  that  colonists  had  irrefragable \nrights.  Caution  and  habit  and  pride  in  the \nname  of  Englishman  kept  them  from  it; \nthe  colonist,  visiting  England  for  the  first \ntime,  still  proudly  said  that  he  was  going \n\"home.\"  There  was  no  reason  why  this \nfeeling  should  ever  change,  if  only  the  spirit  of \ncompromise,  the  basis  of  the  British  Consti- \ntution, had  been  kept  in  mind  by  Parliament. \nBut  the  times  were  wrong.  Hesitate  as  the \ncolonists  might  before  the  syllogism  which \n\n\n44  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nlay  ready  for  completion,  its  minor  and  major \npremises  were  already  accepted.  That  they \nwere  Englishmen,  and  that  Englishmen  had \ninalienable  rights,  were  articles  of  faith  among \nthem.  The  conclusion  would  be  drawn  as \nsoon  as  they  were  forced  to  it.  And  Town- \nshend  was  preparing  to  force  them. \n\nTownshend  proposed  small  duties  on  lead, \npaints,  glass,  and  paper.  Besides  this,  he \nwithdrew  the  previous  export  duty,  one \nshilling  per  pound,  on  tea  taken  from  Eng- \nland to  America,  and  instead  of  this  he  laid \nan  import  duty  of  threepence  per  pound. \nThis  was  ingeniously  new,  being  internal \ntaxation  in  a  form  different  from  that  of \nthe  Stamp  Act.  At  the  same  time  was \nabandoned  the  ancient  contention  that  cus- \ntoms duties  were  but  trade  regulations.  The \nnew  taxes  were  obviously  to  raise  an  English \nrevenue.  For  the  execution  of  the  new  laws \nprovision  was  made  in  each  colony  for  col- \nlectors to  be  paid  directly  by  the  king,  but \nindirectly  by  the  colonies.  The  head  of  these \ncollectors  was  a  board  of  Commissioners  of \n\n\nThe  Massacre  45 \n\nthe  Customs,  stationed  at  Boston.  It  will \nbe  seen  that  thus  were  begun  new  irritations \nfor  the  colonies,  in  the  shape  of  duties  for \nthe  benefit  of  England,  and  of  a  corps  of  offi- \ncials whose  dependence  on  the  crown  made \nsure  that  they  would  be  subservient  tools. \n\nWhile  this  was  done,  no  change  was  made \nin  the  plan  to  maintain  in  America  an  army \nat  colonial  expense.  Indeed,  New  York  was \npunished  for  refusing  to  supply  to  the  troops \nquartered  in  the  city  supplies  that  had  been \nillegally  demanded.  Its  assembly  was  not \nallowed  to  proceed  with  public  business  until \nthe  supplies  should  be  voted.  Thus  every \nother  colony  was  notified  what  to  expect. \n\nThe  Revenue  Acts  were  passed  in  July, \n1767.  Upon  receiving  the  news  the  colonies \nexpressed  to  each  other  their  discontent. \nConcerning  the  Customs  Commissioners  Bos- \nton felt  the  greatest  uneasiness.  \"We  shall \nnow,\"  wrote  Andrew  Eliot,  \"be  obliged  to \nmaintain  in  luxury  sycophants,  court  para- \nsites, and  hungry  dependents.\"  The  strong- \nest expression  upon  the  general  situation  was \n\n\n46  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nin  Dickinson's  \"Farmer's  Letters.\"1  \"This,\" \nsaid  he,  \"is  an  INNOVATION,  and  a  most \ndangerous  innovation.  We  being  obliged  to \ntake  commodities  from  Great  Britain,  special \nduties  upon  their  exportation  to  us  are  as \nmuch  taxes  as  those  imposed  by  the  Stamp \nAct.  Great  Britain  claims  and  exercises  the \nright  to  prohibit  manufactures  in  America. \nOnce  admit  that  she  may  lay  duties  upon  her \nexportations  to  us,  for  the  purpose  of  levying \nmoney  on  us  only,  she  will  then  have  nothing \nto  do  but  to  lay  those  duties  on  the  articles \nwhich  she  prohibits  us  to  manufacture,  and \nthe  tragedy  of  American  liberty  is  finished.\" \n\nThere  was  but  one  way  to  meet  the  situation. \nIn  October  the  town  of  Boston  resolved, \nthrough  its  town  meeting,  to  import  none  of  the \ndutiable  articles.  The  example  was  followed \nby  other  towns  until  all  the  colonies  had \nentered,  unofficially,  into  a  non-importation \nagreement.  The  question  arose,  What  further \nshould  be  done?  Otis  was  beginning  his  men- \ntal decline.  It  was  now  that  Samuel  Adams, \n\n1  Farmer's  Letters,  quoted  in  Bancroft,  vi,  105. \n\n\nThe  Massacre  47 \n\nor  Sam  Adams,  as  Boston  better  loves  to  call \nhim,  came  into  the  leadership  which  he  ever \nafter  exercised. \n\nHe  was  a  man  of  plain  Boston  ancestry, \nwhose  father  had  interested  himself  in  public \naifairs,  and  who,  like  his  son,  was  of  doubtful \nbusiness  ability.  Sam  Adams's  interests  were \nevident  from  his  boyhood,  and  when  in  1743 \nhe  took  his  degree  of  Master  of  Arts  at  Har- \nvard, he  presented  a  thesis  on  the  subject : \n\"Whether  it  be  Lawful  to  resist  the  Supreme \nMagistrate,  if  the  Commonwealth  cannot \notherwise  be  preserved.\"  Although  he  in- \nherited a  little  property  from  his  father,  and \nalthough  from  the  year  1753  he  served  con- \nstantly in  public  offices,  up  to  the  year  1764 \nhe  had  scarcely  been  a  success.  His  patri- \nmony had  largely  disappeared;  further,  as \ntax-collector  he  stood,  with  his  associates, \nindebted  to  the  town  for  nearly  ten  thousand \npounds.  The  reason  for  this  is  not  clear; \nthe  fact  has  been  used  to  his  disadvantage \nby  Tory  historians,  the  first  of  them  being \nHutchinson,  who  calls  the  situation  a  \"de- \n\n\n48  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nfalcation.\"  But  in  order  to  feel  sure  that \nthe  state  of  affairs  was  justified  by  circum- \nstances, we  need  only  to  consider  that  in \nthe  same  year  Adams  was  chosen  by  the \ntown  on  the  committee  to  \"instruct\"  its \nrepresentatives,  and  a  year  later  was  himself \nmade  a  legislator.  From  that  time  on,  his \ninfluence  in  Boston  and  Massachusetts  poli- \ntics steadily  grew. \n\nHis  political  sentiments  were  never  in \ndoubt.  In  his  \"instructions\"  of  1764  are \nfound  the  words  :  \"If  Taxes  are  laid  upon  us \nin  any  shape  without  our  having  a  legal  rep- \nresentative where  they  are  laid,  are  we  not \nreduced  from  the  Character  of  free  Subjects \nto  the  miserable  State  of  tributary  Slaves  ?\"  l \nThroughout  the  Stamp  Act  agitation  he  was \nactive  in  opposing  the  new  measures.  He \nwas  found  to  be  ready  with  his  tongue,  but \nespecially  so  with  his  pen.  For  this  reason \nhe  was  constantly  employed  by  the  town  and \nthe  Assembly  to  draft  their  resolutions,  and \nsome  of  the  most  momentous  documents  of \n\n1  Hosmer,  \"Life  of  Samuel  Adams,\"  48. \n\n\nThe  Massacre  49 \n\nthe  period  remain  to  us  in  his  handwriting. \nWhen  at  last,  at  the  beginning  of  1768, \nsome  one  was  needed  to  express  the  opinion \nof  Massachusetts  upon  the  Townshend  Acts, \nSamuel  Adams  was  naturally  looked  to  as \nthe  man  for  the  work. \n\nHe  drafted  papers  which  were,  one  after \nthe  other,  adopted  by  the  Massachusetts  As- \nsembly. The  first  was  a  letter  of  remon- \nstrance, addressed  to  the  colony's  agent  in \nLondon,  and  intended  to  be  made  public.  It \nprotested,  in  words  seven  times  revised  by  the \nAssembly,  against  the  proposed  measures. \nSimilar  letters  were  sent  to  members  of  the \nministry  and  leaders  of  English  opinion.  An- \nother letter  was  addressed  to  the  king.  Of \nthe  success  of  this,  Adams  apparently  had \nlittle  hope,  for  when  his  daughter  remarked \nthat  the  paper  might  be  touched  by  the  royal \nhand,  he  replied,  \"More  likely  it  will  be \nspurned  by  the  royal  foot.\"  The  final  one  of \nthese  state  papers  was  a  circular  letter  ad- \ndressed to  \"each  House  of  Representatives  or \nBurgesses  on  the  continent.\"  This  expressed \n\n\n50  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nthe  opinion  of  Massachusetts  upon  the  new \nlaws,  and  invited  discussion.  That  nothing \nin  this  should  be  considered  underhanded,  a \ncopy  of  the  circular  letter  was  sent  to  England. \n\nIt  is  significant  that  at  the  same  time  the \nnew  revenue  commission  sent  a  secret  letter \nto  England,  protesting  against  New  England \ntown  meetings,  \"in  which  the  lowest  me- \nchanics discussed  the  most  important  points \nof  government  with  the  utmost  freedom,\"  1  and \nasking  for  troops. \n\nThis  begins  the  series  of  misrepresentations \nand  complaints  which,  constantly  sent  secretly \nto  England,  became  a  leading  cause  of  trouble. \nThe  working  of  the  old  colonial  system  is  here \nseen  in  its  perfection.  Believing  in  the  right \nto  tax  and  punish,  the  Ministry  appointed \nofficers  of  the  same  belief.  These  men,  find- \ning themselves  in  hot  water  in  Boston,  were \nannoyed  and  perhaps  truly  alarmed,  and \nconstantly  urged  harsher  measures  and  the \nsending  of  troops.  The  ministry,  listening \nto  its  own  supporters,  and  disbelieving  the \n\n1  Bancroft's  \"United  States,\"  vi,  128. \n\n\nThe  Massacre  51 \n\nassertions  of  the  American  Whigs,  more  and \nmore  steadily  inclined  toward  severity. \n\nPerhaps  no  falser  idea  was  created  than \nthat  Boston  was  riotous.  Says  Fiske:  \"Of \nall  the  misconceptions  of  America  by  Eng- \nland which  brought  about  the  American \nRevolution,  perhaps  this  notion  of  the  tur- \nbulence of  Boston  was  the  most  ludicrous.\" \nOne  of  the  most  serious  also.  The  chief \ncause  was  in  the  timorousness  of  Bernard,  the \ngovernor.  On  the  occasion  of  the  anniver- \nsary of  the  repeal  of  the  Stamp  Act,  when,  as \nHutchinson  said,  \"We  had  only  such  a  mob \nas  we  have  long  been  used  to  on  the  Fifth  of \nNovember,\"  Bernard  wrote  that  there  was \n\"a  disposition  to  the  utmost  disorder.\"  As \na  crowd  reached  his  house,  \"There  was  so \nterrible  a  yell  it  was  apprehended  they  were \nbreaking  in.  It  was  not  so;  however,  it \ncaused  the  same  terror  as  if  it  had  been  so.\" \nThat  such  a  letter  should  have  any  effect  on \nhome  opinion  is,  as  Fiske  says,  ludicrous. \nYet  the  mischief  caused  by  these  reports  is \nincalculable.  \"It  is  the  bare  truth,\"  says \n\n\n52  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nTrevelyan,  \"that  his  own  Governors  and \nLieutenant-Governors  wrote  King  George  out \nof  America.\"  l \n\nAnother  little  series  of  incidents  at  this \ntime  shows  the  official  disposition  to  magnify \nreports  of  trouble.  For  some  weeks  the  ship \nof  war  Romney  had  lain  in  the  harbor,  sum- \nmoned by  the  commissioners  of  customs. \nThat  the  ship  should  be  summoned  was  in \nitself  an  offence  to  the  town ;  but  the  con- \nduct of  the  captain,  in  impressing  seamen  in \nthe  streets  of  Boston,  was  worse.  Bad  blood \narose  between  the  ship's  crew  and  the  long- \nshoremen ;  one  of  the  impressed  men  was \nrescued,  but  the  captain  angrily  refused  to \naccept  a  substitute  for  another.  Trouble \nwas  brought  to  a  head  by  the  seizure,  on  the \norder  of  the  commissioners  of  customs,  of \nJohn  Hancock's  sloop,  the  Liberty,  on  al- \nleged violation  of  regulations.  Irritated  by \nthe  seizure,  and  by  the  fact  that  the  sloop \nwas  moored  by  the  side  of  the  Romney,  a \ncrowd  threatened  the  customs  house  officers, \n\n1  \"American  Revolution,\"  Part  I,  43. \n\n\nThe  Massacre  53 \n\nbroke  the  comptroller's  windows,  and,  taking \na  boat  belonging  to  the  collector,  after  parad- \ning with  it  through  the  streets,  burnt  it  on  the \nCommon. \n\nThis  was  the  second  disturbance  in  Boston \nwhich  can  be  called  a  riot.  But  it  was  of \nsmall  size  and  short  duration;  the  influence \nof  the  Whig  leaders,  working  through  secret \nchannels,  quieted  the  mob,  and  there  was \nno  further  trouble.  Nevertheless,  four  of  the \ncommissioners  of  the  customs  seized  the  occa- \nsion to  flee  to  the  Romney,  and  to  request  of \nthe  governor  protection  in  the  Castle,  declar- \ning that  they  dared  not  return.  But  the \nremaining  commissioner  remained  undisturbed \non  shore,  and  a  committee  of  the  council,  ex- \namining into  the  matter,  found  that  the \naffair  had  been  only  \"a  small  disturbance.\" \nA  committee  from  the  Boston  town  meeting, \ngoing  in  eleven  chaises  to  Bernard  at  his \ncountry  seat,  secured  from  him  a  promise  to \nstop  impressments,  and  a  statement  of  his \ndesire  for  conciliation.  Nevertheless  Bernard, \nHutchinson,  and  the  various  officers  of  the \n\n\n54  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\ncustoms,  used  the  incident  in  their  letters \nhome  to  urge  that  troops  were  needed  in \nBoston. \n\nThis  was  but  an  interlude,  though  an  in- \nstructive one,  in  the  main  course  of  events. \nMassachusetts  had  protested  against  the  new \nActs.  The  next  issue  arose  when  the  Assem- \nbly was  directed,  by  the  new  colonial  secre- \ntary, Lord  Hillsborough,  to  rescind  its  Re- \nmonstrance and  Circular  Letter.  The  debate \non  the  question  was  long  and  important ;  the \ndemand  was  refused  by  a  vote  of  seventeen \nto  ninety-two.  The  curious  can  still  see,  in \nthe  Old  State  House,  the  punch-bowl  that \nPaul  Revere  was  commissioned  to  make  for \nthe  \"Immortal  Ninety-two;\"  and  there  still \nexist  copies  of  Revere's  caricature  of  the \nRescinders,  with  Timothy  Ruggles  at  their \nhead,  being  urged  by  devils  into  the  mouth \nof  hell.  These  are  indications  of  the  feelings \nof  the  times.  The  immediate  result  was  that \nin  June,  1768,  Bernard  dissolved  the  house, \nand  Massachusetts  was  \"left  without  a  legis- \nlature.\" Upon  the  news  reaching  England, \n\n\nThe  Massacre  55 \n\nit  was  at  last  resolved  to  send  troops  to  Boston. \nThe  crisis  in  Massachusetts  was  now  serious. \nAgainst  the  governor  and  the  expected  troops \nstood  only  the  council,  with  slight  powers. \nSome  machinery  must  be  devised  to  meet  the \nemergency,  and  the  solution  of  the  difficulty \nwas  found  by  Samuel  Adams.  His  mind  first \nleaped  to  the  ultimate  remedy  for  all  troubles, \nand  then  found  the  way  out  of  the  present \ndifficulty. \n\nThe  ultimate  solution  was  independence. \nThough  in  moments  of  despondency  and  ex- \nasperation the  word  had  been  used  by  both \nparties,  until  now  no  one  had  considered \nindependence  possible  except  Samuel  Adams. \nFrom  this  period  he  worked  for  it,  in  secret \npreparing  men's  minds  for  the  grand  change. \nAccording  to  a  Tory  accusation  made  in  a \nlater  year,  Adams  \"confessed  that  the  in- \ndependence of  the  colonies  had  been  the \ngreat  object  of  his  life ;  that  whenever  he \nmet  a  youth  of  parts  he  had  endeavored  to \ninstil  such  notions  into  his  mind,  and  had \nneglected  no  opportunity,  either  in  public  or \n\n\n56  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nin  private,  of  preparing  the  way  for  inde- \npendence.\" 1 \n\nAnother  Tory  source,  a  deposition  gathered \nwhen  the  Tories  were  preparing  an  accusa- \ntion against  Adams,  shows  the  agitator  at \nwork.  During  the  affair  of  the  sloop  Liberty, \n\"the  informant  observed  several  parties  of \nmen  gathered  in  the  street  at  the  south  end \nof  the  town  of  Boston,  in  the  forenoon  of  the \nday.  The  informant  went  up  to  one  of  the \nparties,  and  Mr.  Samuel  Adams,  then  one  of \nthe  representatives  of  Boston,  happened  to \njoin  the  same  party  near  about  the  same \ntime,  trembling  and  in  great  agitation.  .  *  . \nThe  informant  heard  the  said  Samuel  Adams \nthen  say  to  the  same  party,  'If  you  are  men, \nbehave  like  men.  Let  us  take  up  arms  im- \nmediately, and  be  free,  and  seize  all  the \nking's  officers.  We  shall  have  thirty  thou- \nsand freemen  to  join  us  from  the  country.\" \n\nThe  statement  of  the  deposition  is  crude \nand  overdone,  yet  there  can  be  no  doubt \nthat  from  this  time  Adams  did  work  for  the \n\n1  Hosmer's  \"Life  of  Adams.\" \n\n\nThe  Massacre  57 \n\none  great  end.  At  first  he  was  alone,  yet  he \nrecognized  the  temper  of  the  continent,  and \nsaw  the  way  that  the  political  sentiments  of \nthe  country  were  tending.  The  methods  which \nhe  followed  were  not  always  open ;  for  never \ndid  he  avow  his  true  sentiments,  while  often \nprotesting,  on  behalf  of  the  town  or  the \nprovince,  loyalty  to  the  crown.  Doubtless \nhe  did  train  the  young  men  up  as  he  saw \nthem  inclined.  In  one  case  we  know  that \nhe  failed.  \"Samuel  Adams  used  to  tell  me,\" \nsaid  John  Coffin,  a  Boston  Tory,  \"'  Coffin, \nyou  must  not  leave  us ;  we  shall  have  warm \nwork,  and  want  you.\"5 1  But  in  other  cases \nAdams  succeeded:  one  by  one  John  Han- \ncock, Josiah  Quincy,  Jr.,  John  Adams,  and \nJoseph  Warren  were  by  him  brought  into \nprominence.  And  at  the  same  time  he  began \nto  accustom  men's  minds  to  new  methods  of \npolitical  activity. \n\nThis  Adams  did  in  the  present  difficulty, \nwhen,  in  default  of  the  Assembly,  he  yet \nneeded  an  expression  of  the  opinion  of  the \n\n1  Sabine's  \"Loyalists.\" \n\n\n$8  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nprovince.  Through  his  means  was  called  a \nconvention  of  the  towns  of  Massachusetts, \nwhich  met  in  Faneuil  Hall,  on  the  22d  of \nSeptember,  1768. \n\nThe  convention  was  self-restrained.  It \ncalled  upon  the  governor  to  convene  the \nAssembly,  and  approved  all  the  acts  which \nhad  caused  the  Assembly's  dismissal ;  it  re- \nsolved to  preserve  order,  and  quietly  dis- \nsolved itself.  \"I  doubt,\"  said  the  British \nAttorney-General,  \"whether  they  have  com- \nmitted an  overt  act  of  treason,  but  I  am  sure \nthey  have  come  within  a  hair's  breadth  of  it.\" \n\nImmediately  afterwards  arrived  the  ships \nwith  troops.  These  were  landed  with  much \nparade,  to  find  a  peaceful  town,  yet  one \nwhich  from  the  first  was  able  to  annoy  them. \nDemand  was  made  for  quarters  for  the  sol- \ndiers ;  the  Selectmen  and  Council  replied  by \nreferring  to  the  law  which  forbade  such  a \nrequisition  until  the  barracks  at  Castle  Wil- \nliam should  be  filled.  By  neither  subtlety  nor \nthreats  could  the  town  be  induced  to  yield ; \nthe  troops  camped  on  the  Common  until,  at \n\n\nThe  Massacre  59 \n\ngreat  expense,  the  crown  officials  were  forced \nto  hire  quarters.  It  was  but  the  beginning \nof  the  discomfort  of  the  troops,  openly  scorned \nin  a  town  where  three-quarters  of  the  people \nwere  against  them.  Where  few  women  except \ntheir  own  camp-followers  would  have  to  do \nwith  the  soldiers,  where  the  men  despised \nthem  and  the  boys  jeered,  where  \"lobster- \nback\"  was  the  mildest  term  that  was  flung \nat  them,  there  was  no  satisfaction  in  wearing \nthe  king's  uniform. \n\nEighteen  months  of  this  life  wore  upon \nthe  soldiers.  The  townsfolk  became  adepts \nat  subtle  irritations,  against  which  there  was \nnot  even  the  solace  of  interesting  occupation ; \nfor  except  for  daily  drill  there  was  nothing \nto  do.  In  time  the  more  violent  among  the \ntroops  were  ripe  for  any  affray;  while  the \nlower  classes  among  the  inhabitants,  stanch \nWhigs  and  sober  livers,  were  sick  of  the \nnoisy  ribaldry  which  for  so  long  had  made \nunpleasant  the  streets  of  the  town.  Out  of \nthese  conditions  grew  what  has  been  called \nthe  Boston  Massacre. \n\n\n60  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nThe  best  contemporary,  and  in  fact  the \nbest  general  authority  for  this  event  is  the \n\"Short  Narrative  of  the  Horrid  Massacre  in \nBoston.\"  This  was  published  by  the  town \nfor  circulation  in  England,  and  is  still  extant \nin  Doggett's  reprint  of  1849,  and  in  Kidder's \nof  1870.  In  a  report  of  a  special  committee \nthe  town  rehearses  both  the  events  of  the \nMassacre  and  the  proceedings  which  followed \nit.  Seventy-two  pages  of  depositions  are \nappended  to  the  report  of  the  committee  :  no \nother  single  event  of  those  days  is  made  so \nvivid  to  us. \n\nThe  Massacre  was  preceded  by  minor  dis- \nturbances. On  the  second  of  March,  1770, \ninsults  having  passed  between  a  soldier  and  a \nropemaker,  the  former  came  to  the  ropewalk, \n\"and  looking  into  one  of  the  windows  said, \nby  God  Fll  have  satisfaction  /  .  .  .  and  at  last \nsaid  he  was  not  afraid  of  any  one  in  the  rope- \nwalks.  I\"  —  thus  deposes  Nicholas  Feriter, \nof  lawful  age,  \"stept  out  of  the  window  and \nspeedily  knocked  up  his  heels.  On  falling, \nhis  coat  flew  open,  and  a  naked  sword  ap- \n\n\nThe  Massacre  6l \n\npeared,  which  one  John  Willson,  following  me \nout,  took  from  him,  and  brought  into  the \nropewalks.\"  The  soldier  returned  a  second \nand  a  third  time,  each  time  with  more  men \nfrom  his  regiment.  At  the  last  they  were \n\"  headed  by  a  tall  negro  drummer,  with  a \ncutlass  chained  to  his  body,  with  which,  at \nfirst  rencounter,\"  says  valiant  Nicholas,  \"I \nreceived  a  cut  on  the  head,  but  being  imme- \ndiately supported  by  nine  or  ten  more  of  the \nropemakers,  armed  with  their  wouldring  sticks, \nwe  again  beat  them  off.\" \n\nFor  three  days  there  was,  among  the  two \nregiments  stationed  in  the  town,  anger  which \nthe  inhabitants  endeavored  to  allay  by  the \ndischarge  of  the  ropemaker  who  gave  the \noriginal  insult,  and  by  agreements  made  with \nthe  commanding  officer,  Colonel  Dalrymple. \nBut,  as  afterwards  appeared,  there  were  warn- \nings of  further  trouble.  Cautions  were  given \nto  friends  of  the  soldiers  not  to  go  on  the \nstreets  at  night.  The  soldiers  and  their \nwomen  could  not  refrain  from  dark  hints  of \nviolence  to  come.  It  is  even  possible  that \n\n\n62  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nviolence  was  concerted.  On  the  night  of  the \nfifth  a  number  of  soldiers  assembled  in  At- \nkinson Street.  \"They  stood  very  still  until \nthe  guns  were  fired  in  King  Street,  then  they \nclapped  their  hands  and  gave  a  cheer,  saying, \n'This  is  all  that  we  want';  they  then  ran \nto  their  barracks  and  came  out  again  in  a \nfew  minutes,  all  with  their  arms,  and  ran \ntoward  King  Street.\"  \"I  never,\"  so  runs \nother  testimony,  \"saw  men  or  dogs  so  greedy \nfor  their  prey  as  these  soldiers  seemed  to  be.\" \nBut  the  affray  was  of  small  proportions, \nand  soon  over.  The  actual  outbreak  origi- \nnated in  a  quarrel  between  a  barber's  boy \nand  a  sentry,  stationed  in  King  Street  below \nthe  east  end  of  the  Town  House.1  Boys  and \nmen  gathered,  the  sentry  called  out  the \nguard,  fire-bells  were  rung,  and  the  crowd \nincreased.  The  captain  of  the  guard  was  not \nthe  man  for  the  emergency.  Said  Henry \nKnox,  afterward  general  and  Secretary  of \nWar,  \"I  took  Captain  Preston  by  the  coat \n\n1  King  Street  is  now  State  Street,  and  the  Town \nHouse  is  the  Old  State  House. \n\n\nThe  Massacre  63 \n\nand  told  him  for  God's  sake  to  take  his  men \nback  again,  for  if  they  fired  his  life  must \nanswer  for  the  consequence;  he  replied  he \nwas  sensible  of  it,  or  knew  what  he  was  about, \nor  words  to  that  purpose;  and  seemed  in \ngreat  haste  and  much  agitated.\"  The  gather- \ning still  increased,  there  was  crowding  and \njostling,  snowballs  and  possibly  sticks  were \nthrown ;  the  soldiers  grew  angry  and  the \nofficer  uncertain  what  to  do.  \"The  soldiers,\" \ntestified  John  Hickling,  \"  assumed  different \npostures,  shoving  their  bayonets  frequently \nat  the  people,  one  in  particular  pushing \nagainst  my  side  swore  he  would  run  me \nthrough ;  I  laid  hold  of  his  bayonet  and  told \nhim  that  nobody  was  going  to  meddle  with \nthem.  Not  more  than  ten  seconds  after  this \nI  saw  something  white,  resembling  a  piece  of \nsnow  or  ice,  fall  among  the  soldiers,  which \nknocked  the  end  of  a  firelock  to  the  ground. \nAt  that  instant  the  word  '  Fire  ! '  was  given, \nbut  by  whom  I  know  not;  but  concluded  it \ndid  not  come  from  the  officer  aforesaid,  as  I \nwas  within  a  yard  of  him  and  must  have \n\n\n64  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nheard  him  had  he  spoken  it,  but  am  satisfied \nsaid  Preston  did  not  forbid  them  to  fire;  I \ninstantly  leaped  within  the  soldier's  bayonet \nas  I  heard  him  cock  his  gun,  which  that  mo- \nment went  off.  ...  I,  thinking  there  was \nnothing  but  powder  fired,  stood  still,  till  .  .  . \nI  saw  another  gun  fired,  and  the  man  since \ncalled  Attucks,  fall.  I  then  withdrew  about \ntwo  or  three  yards.  .  .  .  During  this  the \nrest  of  the  guns  were  fired,  one  after  another, \nwhen  I  saw  two  more  fall.  ...  I  further \ndeclare  that  I  heard  no  other  affront  given \nthem  than  the  huzzaing  and  whistling  of \nboys  in  the  street.\" \n\nAfter  the  firing,  other  soldiers  were  sum- \nmoned to  the  spot,  and  more  townspeople \nappeared.  The  soldiers,  says  the  official  nar- \nrative, \"were  drawn  up  between  the  State \nHouse  and  main  guard,  their  lines  extended \nacross  the  street  and  facing  down  King  Street, \nwhere  the  town  people  were  assembled.  The \nfirst  line  kneeled,  and  the  whole  of  the  first \nplatoon  presented  their  guns  ready  to  fire,  as \nsoon  as  the  word  should  be  given.  .  .  .  For \n\n\nThe  Massacre  65 \n\nsome  time  the  appearance  of  things  were \ndismal.  The  soldiers  outrageous  on  the  one \nhand,  and  the  inhabitants  justly  incensed \nagainst  them  on  the  other :  both  parties \nseemed  disposed  to  come  to  action.\" \n\nHad  the  affair  gone  further,  so  that  the \nsoldiers  fired  again,  or  the  townspeople  stormed \nthe  barracks,  then  the  affray  would  have  re- \nsembled the  riots  not  uncommon  in  Europe \nat  that  time,  and  known  even  in  England. \nIn  such  a  case  the  turbulence  of  Boston  might \nhave  been  proved.  But  the  good  town  was \nlater  able  to  claim  that  up  to  the  actual \nbreaking  out  of  hostilities  not  one  soldier  or \nTory  had  been  harmed  in  Massachusetts.  In \nthe  present  case  nothing  further  happened. \nThe  stubborn  people  stood  their  ground,  but \nthe  eager  troops  were  restrained  and  led \naway.  The  punishment  of  the  offenders  took \nplace  according  to  law,  with  John  Adams \nand  Josiah  Quincy,  Jr.,  leaders  of  the  Whigs, \nas  successful  defenders  of  the  captain. \n\nThe  important  consequences  were  political. \nThough  the  people  dispersed  that  night,  they \n\n\n66  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nassembled  on  the  morrow  in  a  crowded  town \nmeeting,  where  Samuel  Adams  guided  the \nactions  of  the  assembly.  Adjourning  from \nFaneuil  Hall  to  the  Old  South,  which  itself \ncould  not  accommodate  them  all,  the  throng \npassed  the  very  spot  of  the  Massacre  and \nunder  the  windows  of  the  State  House,  where \nthe  lieutenant-governor  viewed  them.  This \nman  was  Hutchinson,  acting  governor  in  the \nabsence  of  Bernard,  and  at  last  about  to \narrive  at  the  goal  of  colonial  ambition. \n\nThomas  Hutchinson  has  been  too  much \ncondemned,  and  of  late  years  almost  too \nmuch  commended.  He  had  spent  thirty  years \nin  the  service  of  the  colony,  holding  more \noffices,  and  more  at  the  same  time,  than  any \nman  of  his  generation.  Now  he  was  un- \npopular and  misjudged,  yet  he  was  a  man \nfor  his  day  and  party  honest  and  patriotic; \nhis  end,  in  exile  in  England,  was  one  of  the \ntragedies  of  American  loyalty.  But  though \na  braver  man  than  Bernard  and  more  public- \nspirited,  his  methods  were  equally  under- \nhanded, and  he  fatally  mistook  the  capacity \n\n\nThe  Massacre  67 \n\nof  his  countrymen  to  govern  themselves.  A \nman  who  could  wish  for  less  freedom  of \nspeech  in  England  was  not  the  man  to  sym- \npathize with  the  spirit  of  Americans. \n\nHe  now,  backed  by  a  few  councillors  and \nofficials,  was  to  face  Sam  Adams  and  the \nBoston  town  meeting.  With  a  committee \nfrom  the  meeting,  Adams  came  to  the  State \nHouse  to  demand  the  withdrawal  of  the \ntroops  to  the  Castle.  Hutchinson  answered \nthat  he  would  withdraw  one  regiment,  but \nhad  not  the  power  to  remove  both.  Retiring \nat  the  head  of  his  committee,  Adams  passed \nthrough  a  lane  of  people  on  his  way  to  the \nOld  South.  \"Both  regiments  or  none!\"  he \nsaid  right  and  left  as  he  passed,  and  every \none  took  up  the  word.  \"Both  regiments  or \nnone!\"  cried  the  meeting.  Voting  his  re- \nport unsatisfactory,  it  sent  him  back  to  the \ngovernor  to  repeat  his  demand. \n\n\"Now  for  the  picture,\"  wrote  John  Adams \nmany  years  after.  \"The  theatre  and  the \nscenery  are  the  same  with  those  at  the  dis- \ncussion of  the  writs  of  assistance.  The  same \n\n\n68  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nglorious  portraits  of  King  Charles  the  Second, \nand  King  James  the  Second,  to  which  might \nbe  added,  and  should  be  added,  little  miser- \nable likenesses  of  Governor  Winthrop,  Gov- \nernor Bradstreet,  Governor  Endicott,  and \nGovernor  Belcher,  hung  up  in  obscure  corners \nof  the  room.  Lieutenant-Governor  Hutchin- \nson,  commander-in-chief  in  the  absence  of \nthe  governor,  must  be  placed  at  the  head  of \nthe  council-table.  Lieutenant-Colonel  Dal- \nrymple,  commander  of  his  majesty's  military \nforces,  taking  rank  of  all  his  majesty's  coun- \ncillors, must  be  seated  by  the  side  of  the \nlieutenant-governor  and  commander-in-chief \nof  the  Province.  Eight-and-twenty  council- \nlors must  be  painted,  all  seated  at  the  council- \nboard.  Let  me  see,  —  what  costume  ?  What \nwas  the  fashion  of  that  day  in  the  month  of \nMarch  ?  Large  white  wigs,  English  scarlet- \ncloth  coats,  some  of  them  with  gold-laced \nhats ;  not  on  their  heads  indeed  in  so  august \na  presence,  but  on  the  table  before  them  or \nunder  the  table  beneath  them.  Before  these \nillustrious  persons  appeared  SAMUEL  ADAMS, \n\n\n1722  —  SAMUEL  ADAMS  —  1803 \n\nBy  John  Singleton  Copley \n\n\nThe  Massacre  69 \n\na  member  of  the  House  of  Representatives \nand  their  clerk,  now  at  the  head  of  the  com- \nmittee of  the  great  assembly  at  the  Old  South \nChurch.\"  l \n\nIt  is  this  moment  that  Copley  chose  to \nrepresent  Adams.  Facing  the  governor,  the \nofficers,  and  the  councillors,  Adams  stood  in \nhis  simple  \"wine-colored  suit,\"  and  appealed \nto  the  charter  and  the  laws.  \"If  you  have \npower  to  remove  one  regiment,  you  have \npower  to  remove  both.  It  is  at  your  peril \nif  you  do  not.  The  meeting  is  composed  of \nthree  thousand  people.  They  are  become \nvery  impatient.  A  thousand  men  are  already \narrived  from  the  neighborhood,  and  the  coun- \ntry is  in  general  motion.  Night  is  approach- \ning ;  an  immediate  answer  is  expected.\"  2 \n\nHutchinson  was  a  man  learned  in  the  his- \ntory of  the  province  and  the  people,  and  the \noccasion  had  impressed  him  already.  As  the \nmeeting  had  passed  under  his  windows  on \nthe  way  to  the  Old  South,  a  friend  at  his \n\n1  Hosmer's  \"Samuel  Adams,\"  172. \n\n2  Bancroft,  vi,  344. \n\n\nyo  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nside  had  remarked  that  this  was  not  the  kind \nof  men  that  had  sacked  his  house.  He  had \nnoted  the  resolute  countenances  of  the  best \nmen  of  the  town,  and  had  —  to  use  his  own \nwords  —  judged  their  spirit  to  be  as  strong, \nand  their  resolve  as  high,  as  those  of  the \nmen  who  had  imprisoned  Andros.  Adams, \nnarrowly  watching  him  now,  marked  the \ntumult  in  Hutchinson's  mind. \n\n\"I  observed  his  knees  to  tremble,\"  said \nAdams  afterward;  \"I  saw  his  face  grow  pale; \nand  I  enjoyed  the  sight.\"  l  For  Hutchinson, \npoorly  supported  and  irresolute,  the  strain \nwas  too  great.  He  temporized  and  parleyed, \nbut  he  thought  again  of  Andros,  and  gave \nway.  It  was  a  complete  triumph  for  the \ntown.  The  troops,  until  their  removal  to  the \nCastle  could  be  effected,  were  virtually  im- \nprisoned in  their  barracks  by  a  patrol  of \ncitizens.  From  that  time  they  bore  the  name \nof  the  \"Sam  Adams  regiments.\" \n\n1  Bancroft,  vi,  345. \n\n\nCHAPTER  IV \n\nTHE    TEA-PARTY    AND    ITS    CONSEQUENCES \n\nSTEP  by  step  the  mother  country  and  its \ncolonies  were  advancing  to  a  rupture. \nThe  first  step  was  taken  at  the  test  con- \ncerning the  writs  of  assistance,  the  second  at \nthe  passage  of  the  Stamp  Act  and  its  repeal, \nthe  third  resulted  in  the  JS^Asa^cre^  and  jhe \nwithdrawal  of  the^troops  from  Boston.  Each \ntime  the  colonies  gained  the  practical  ad- \nvantages which  they  sought;  each  time  the \nking's  party,  while  yielding,  became  more \nexasperated,  and  presently  tested  the  strength \nof  the  colonies  once  more;  and  each  time  it \nwas  Boston  that  stood  as^the  he.a4  a^d  front \nof  opposition.  The  town  was  marked  for \n\n\nIn  the  case  of  the  Townshend  Acts,  the \nvictory  of  the  colonists  was  temporarily  com- \nplete. The  movement  had  come  to  a  head  at \n\n71 \n\n\n72  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nBoston  in  an  actual  outbreak,  the  Massacre, \nwhich  obscured  the  greater  issues ;  never- \ntheless the  issues  were  won.  America  would \nnot  submit  to  the  newj^venueJaHS.  Very \ncalmly  it  had  avoided  them  by  refusing  to \nimport  from  England.  A  thorough  test  of \nnearly  two  years  showed  that  from  north  to \nsouth  the  colonies  were  almost  a  unit  in  re- \njecting English  and  foreign  goods,  and  in \nrelying  on  home  *  manufactures.  From  im- \nportations of  more  than  a  million  and  a  quar- \nter pounds,  tv;r^ thirds  fell  clean  away,1  and \nthe  merchants  of  England  felt  the  pinch. \nThere  was  but  one  thing  to  do,  and  England \ngrudgingly  did  it.  The  withdrawal  of  the \ntroops  f ronT^Bostan  was  acquiesced  ii^jind_ \nthe.  revenue  acts,  jhe  causejrfjdljLhe^ \nwere  repealed,  except  >  for  a  duty  still  main- \ntained upon  tea. \n\nThe  response  was  such  that  England  was \nrelieved.  New  York  began  to  import  those \narticles  which  had  been  made  free  of  duty. \nThe  non-importation  agreement  was  broken, \n\n1  Trevelyan,  \"American  Revolution,\"  Part  I,  104. \n\n\nThe  Tea-Party  and  its  Consequences     73 \n\nas  the  colonies  perceived.  \"You  had  better \nsend  us  your  old  liberty  pole,\"  wrote  Phila- \ndelphia scornfully  to  New  York,  \"since  you \nclearly  have  no  further  use  for  it.\"  1  Whigs  and \nTories  both  saw  that,  the  agreement  thus \nbroken,  other  colonies  would  follow  the  ex- \nample of  New  York. \n\nThe  advantage  was  now  clearly  with  the \nking,  and  he  endeavored  to  make  the  most \nof  it,  not  by  abiding  in  peace,  but  by  taking \na  further  step.  He  ordered  that  colonial \njudges  should  in  future  be  paid  from  the  Eng- \nlish treasury.  No  one  in  the  colonies  could \nfail  to  see  that  the  blow  was  aimed  directly  at \nthe  independence  of  the  judiciary. \n\nMassachusetts  was  alarmed.  Boston  sent \nresolutions  to  the  governor,  but  Hutchinson, \nnow  at  last  in  the  chair,  refused  to  listen  to \nthe  town  meeting.  In  this  moment  of  in- \ndignation, Samuel  Adams  conceived  a  scheme \nwhich  was  the  longest  step  yet  taken  toward \nindependence. \n\n1  \"A  Card  from  the  Inhabitants  of  Philadelphia,\" \nBancroft,  vi,  366. \n\n\n74  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nThis  was  the  idea  of  Committees  of  Cor- \nrespondence, to  be  permanently  maintained \nby  each  town  and  even  by  each  colony.  The \nidea  of  such  committees  was  not  novel.  It \nhad  been  suggested  years  before  by  Jonathan \nMayhew,  and  had  more  than  once  been  used \nin  emergencies.  But  permanent  committees, \nwatching  affairs  and  at  any  time  ready  to  act, \nwere  new.  Naturally  composed  of  the  best \nmen  in  each  town,  they  would  at  all  times \nbe  ready  to  speak,  and  to  speak  vigorously. \nThe  plan,  when  perfected,  eventually  enabled \nthe  colonies  to  act  as  a  unit.  From  the  first \nit  gave  strength  to  the  Americans ;  in  the \npresent  instance  it  spread  the  news  of  the \nking's  action  and  roused  indignation,  and \nbefore  long  it  brought  about  an  act  which \nstartled  the  English-speaking  world. \n\nThis  was  the  Boston  Tea-Party.  The  king \nhad  a  hand  in  making  the  fire  hot.  He  had \nbeen  vexed  by  his  unsuccessful  tariff,  and \nwas  now  especially  irritated  that  his  con- \ncessions had  brought  about  no  result  in  one \nimportant  particular. \n\n\nThe  Tea-Party  and  its  Consequences     75 \n\nUntil  the  present  every  shipmaster  had \nbeen  a  smuggler,  and  all  the  Whigs  dealt \nin  smuggled  goods.  This  was  according  to \nold  English  practice,  but  as  a  matter  of  fact \nillicit  trade  was  more  decorous  in  America \nthan  in  England.  Whereas  in  Cornwall  the \nforces  of  the  smugglers  were  so  strong  that \nthey  chased  the  revenue  cutters  into  harbors \nand  landed  their  goods  by  bright  moonlight, \nin  America  the  appearances  of  legality  were \ngravely  preserved. \n\nNevertheless  the  result  was  the  same,  and \nin  one  quarter  was  actually  serious.  The \nrecent  tariff  had  brought  to  the  royal  treasury \nscarcely  three  hundred  pounds  from  tea.  The \nsituation  was  no  better  now  that  the  tea- \nduty  was  the  only  one  remaining.  So  com- \npletely did  America,  while  still  drinking  tea \nin  quantity,  avoid  the  duly  imported  article, \nthat  the  revenue  of  the  East  India  Company \nfell  off  alarmingly.  On  pathetic  representa- \ntions of  the  financial  state  of  the  company, \nthe  king  gave  permission,  through  a  subser- \nvient Parliament,  for  the  company  to  export \n\n\n76  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\ntea  to  America  free  even  of  the  English  duty. \nThe  company  had  lost  hundreds  of  thousands \nof  pounds  since  the  Townshend  Acts  went  in \nforce ;  now  by  favorable  terms  it  was  to  be \nenabled  to  undersell  in  the  colonial  market \neven  the  smuggled  teas.  Taking  advantage \nof  this  new  ruling,  tea  was  promptly  shipped, \nin  the  autumn  of  1773,  to  different  consignees \nin  Boston,  New  York,  Philadelphia,  and \nCharleston. \n\nIt  was  confidently  expected  that  the  col- \nonies would  buy  the  tea.  No  one  in  the  gov- \nernment supposed  that  the  Americans  would \nbe  blind  to  their  own  interests.  This  much, \nindeed,  was  admitted  by  the  leaders  among \nthe  Whigs,  that  once  the  tea  was  on  sale  Yankee \nprinciple  might  be  sorely  tempted  by  Yankee \nthrift.  Indignant  at  the  insidious  tempta- \ntion, determined  that  no  such  test  should  be \nmade,  and  resenting  the  establishment  of  a \npractical  monopoly  throughout  the  colonies, \nthe  leaders  resolved  that  the  tea  should  not \nbe  landed. \n\nIt   is   an   odd  fortune  that  connected  the \n\n\nThe  Tea-Party  and  its  Consequences     77 \n\nChinese  herb  so  closely  with  the  struggle \nof  principle  in  America.  To  this  day,  while \nthe  issues  are  obscured  in  the  mind  of  the \naverage  American,  he  remembers  the  tax  on \ntea,  and  that  his  ancestors  would  not  pay \nit.  Picturesque  tales  of  ladies'  associations \ndepriving  themselves  of  their  favorite  bev- \nerage, of  men  tarring  and  feathering  un- \npopular tradesmen,  have  survived  the  hundred \nand  thirty  odd  years  which  have  passed  since \nthen ;  and  the  impression  is  general  that  the \ncolonists  would  not  pay  a  tax  which  bore \nheavy  on  them.  But  it  will  be  noticed  by \nthose  who  have  attentively  read  this  account \nthat  the  colonists  were  refusing  to  pay \nless,  in  order  that  they  might  have  the \nsatisfaction  of  paying  more.  They  balked, \nnot  at  the  amount  of  the  tax,  but  at  its \nprinciple. \n\nIn  the  case  of  the  tea-ships  the  duty  of \naction  fell  upon  Boston.  Charleston  and \nPhiladelphia  had  taken  a  positive  stand \nresolving  not  to  receive  the  tea ;  but  the  ships \nwere  due  at  Boston  first.  The  eyes  of  the \n\n\n78  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\ncontinent  were  upon  this  one  town.  Boston \nmade  ready  to  act,  yet  of  the  preparations \nwe  know  nothing.  While  the  story  as  it  is \ntold  is  interesting  enough,  there  is  no  record \nof  the  secret  meetings  in  which  the  events \nwere  prepared.  Hints  are  dropped,  and  it \nis  asserted  that  within  the  Green  Dragon \ntavern,  a  favorite  meeting-place  of  the  Whigs, \nwere  finally  decided  the  means  by  which  the \nworkmen  of  the  town  should  carry  out  the \nplans  of  the  leaders.  But  of  these  meetings \nnothing  is  positively  known ;  all  we  can  say \nwith  certainty  is  that  the  plans  worked  per- \nfectly, and  that  Sam  Adams  must  have  had \na  hand  in  their  making. \n\nThe  Sons  of  Liberty  took  the  first  step \ntoward  forcing  the  consignees  of  the  tea  to \nresign.  \"Handbills  are  stuck  up,\"  writes \nJohn  Andrews,  \"calling  upon  Friends!  Citi- \nzens !  and  Countrymen  ! \"  To  Liberty  Tree \nthe  \"freemen  of  Boston  and  the  neighboring \ntowns\"  were  invited,  by  placard  and  adver- \ntisement, \"to  hear  the  persons,  to  whom  the \ntea  shipped  by  the  East  India  Company  is \n\n\nThe  Tea-Party  and  its  Consequences     79 \n\nconsigned,  make  a  public  resignation  of  their \noffice  as  consignees,  upon  oath.\"  1 \n\nBut  the  consignees  did  not  come,  though \nthe  freemen  did.  The  townspeople,  forming \nthemselves  into  a  \"meeting,\"  sent  a  com- \nmittee to  the  consignees,  demanding  that \nthey  refuse  to  receive  the  tea.  But  the  con- \nsignees believed  themselves  safe.  They  were \nmerchants  of  family  and  property,  the  gov- \nernor's sons  were  among  them,  and  it  was \nrumored  that  Hutchinson  had  a  pecuniary \ninterest  in  the  success  of  the  venture.  They \nrefused  to  give  the  pledge. \n\nThe  official  town  meeting  now  took  up \nthe  matter.  Before  the  tea  arrived,  and \nagain  after  the  appearance  of  the  first  ship, \nthe  town  called  upon  the  consignees  to  resign. \nEach  time  the  consignees  refused.  The  second \ntown  meeting,  after  thus  acting  in  vain,  dis- \nsolved without  the  customary  expression  of \nopinion.  Hutchinson  himself  records  that \n\"this  sudden  dissolution  struck  more  terror \ninto  the  consignees  than  the  most  minatory \n\n1  \"Memorial  History  of  Boston,\"  iii,  45. \n\n\n8o  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nresolves.\"  From  that  moment  the  matter \nwas  in  the  hands  of  the  Boston  Committee \nof  Correspondence. \n\nBy  means  of  the  committee,  at  whose \nhead  was  Adams,  communication  was  held \nwith  the  towns  throughout  Massachusetts. \nThe  province  was  greatly  excited,  and  re- \npeated demands  for  resignation  were  made \nupon  the  consignees,  but  they  clung  to  their \noffices  and  the  hope  of  profit.  Delays  were \nskilfully  secured,  and  the  first  ship  was \nentered  at  the  customs,  after  which  accord- \ning to  law  it  must  within  twenty  days  either \nclear  for  England  or  land  its  cargo.  The \ngovernor  was  resolved  not  to  grant  a  clear- \nance, and  rejoiced  over  his  opponents.  \"They \nfind  themselves,\"  he  said,  \"in  invincible  diffi- \nculties.\" \n\nBut  everything  was  prepared.  To  the  last \nminute  of  the  twenty  days  the  Whigs  were \npatient.  Petition  after  petition,  appeal  af- \nter appeal,  went  to  the  governor  or  the  con- \nsignees. There  was  no  success.  On  thex \nlast  day,  the  i6th  of  December,  1773,  all \n\n\nThe  Tea-Party  and  its  Consequences     81 \n\nthree  of  the  tea-ships  were  at  Griffin's  Wharf, \nwatched  by  the  patriots.  A  town  meeting, \nthe  largest  in  the  history  of  Boston,  crowded \nthe  Old  South,  and  again  resolved  that  the \ntea  should  not  be  landed.  \"Who  knows,\" \nasKed  John  Rowe,  \"  how  tea  will  mingle  with \nsalt  water  ? ':  The  remark  was  greeted  with \ncheers,  yet  one  more  legal  step  might  be \ntaken,  and  the  meeting,  sending  Rotch,  the \nmaster  of  the  first  tea-ship,  to  the  governor \nat  Milton  to  ask  for  a  clearance,  patiently \nwaited  while  he  should  traverse  the  fifteen \nmiles  of  his  journey.  During  the  hours  of \nhis  absence  there  was  no  disturbance ;  when \nhe  returned,  the  daylight  had  gone,  and  the \nOld  South  was  lighted  with  candles.  Seven \nthousand  people  were  silent  to  hear  the  re- \nport. It  was  brief,  and  its  meaning  was \nclear :  the  governor  had  refused ;  the  last \nlegal  step  had  been  taken.  Then  Samuel \nAdams  rose. \n\n\"This  meeting,\"  he  declared,  \"can  do \nnothing  more  to  save  the  country.\" \n\nIt  was  the  expected  signal.     Immediately \n\n\n82  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nthere  was  a  shout  from  the  porch,  and  the \nwarwhoop  sounded  out  of  doors.  The  meeting \npoured  out  of  doors  and  followed  some  fifty \nmen  in  the  garb  of  Indians,  who  suddenly \nappeared  in  the  street.  They  hurried  to \nGriffin's  Wharf.  There  they  posted  guards, \ntook  possession  of  the  tea-ships,  and  hoisting \nthe  chests  from  the  holds,  knocked  them \nopen  and  emptied  the  tea  into  the  water. \nUnder  the  moon  the  great  crowd  watchecl \nin  silence,  there  was  no  interference  from  the \ntroops  or  the  war-ships,  and  in  three  hours \nthe  last  of  the  tea  was  overboard.  Nothing \nremained  except  what  had  sifted  into  the \nshoes  of  some  of  the  \"Indians,\"  to  be  pre- \nserved as  mementoes  of  the  day. \n\n\"They  say,\"  wrote  John  Andrews  dryly \ntwo  days  later,  \"that  the  actors  were  Indians \nfrom  Narragansett.  Whether  they  were  or \nnot,  to  a  transient  observer  they  appear'd \nas  such,  being  cloath'd  in  Blankets  with  the \nheads  muffled,  and  copper  color'd  counte- \nnances, being  each  arm'd  with  a  hatchet  or \naxe,  and  pair  pistols,  nor  was  their  dialect \n\n\nThe  Tea-Party  and  its  Consequences     83 \n\ndifferent  from  what  I  conceive  these  geniusses \nto  speak,  as  their  jargon  was  unintelligible  to \nall  but  themselves.  Not  the  least  insult  was \noffer'd  to  any  person,  save  one  Captain  Con- \nner, a  letter  of  horses  in  this  place,  not  many \nyears  since  remov'd  from  dear  Ireland,  who \nhad  ript  up  the  lining  of  his  coat  and  waist- \ncoat under  the  arms,  and  watching  his  op- \nportunity had  nearly  fill'd  'em  with  tea, \nbut  being  detected,  was  handled  pretty \nroughly.  They  not  only  stripp'd  him  of  his \ncloaths,  but  gave  him  a  coat  of  mud,  with  a \nsevere  bruising  into  the  bargain ;  and  noth- \ning but  their  utter  aversion  to  make  any \ndisturbance  prevented  his  being  tar'd  and \nfeather'd.\" \n\nSuch  was  the  Boston  Tea-Party,  \"the \nboldest  stroke,\"  said  Hutchinson,  \"that  had \nyet  been  struck  in  America.\"  Much  has \nbeen  written  about  it.  It  has  been  minimized \ninto  a  riot,  and  magnified  into  a  deed  of \nglory.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  was  neither \nthe  one  nor  the  other,  yet  if  either  it  was \nnearer  the  latter.  Carried  out  by  Boston \n\n\n84  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nmechanics,  but  doubtless  directed  by  Boston \nleaders,  it  was  a  cool  and  deliberate  law- \nbreaking,  the  penalty  for  which,  could  the \noffenders  but  have  been  discovered,  would \nhave  been  severe.  But  none  of  the  actors \nin  the  affair  were  betrayed  at  the  time,  though \nhundreds  in  the  town  must  have  had  posi- \ntive knowledge  of  their  identity.  Names, \nlike  those  of  the  burners  of  the  Gaspee  eighteen \nmonths  before,  were  not  given  out  until  after \nthe  Revolution,  and  even  to-day  the  list  of \nthem  is  not  complete. \n\nThe  project  of  the  king  and  the  East  India \nCompany  was  a  failure.  In  one  way  or  other \nthe  other  three  seaports  either  destroyed \nor  sent  back  their  tea.  But  Boston  was  the \nfirst  and  most  violent  offender.  It  was  on \nher  that  punishment  was  to  descend. \n\nnews  of  the  Tea-Party  came  to  England \nat  a  time  when  king  and  Parliament  were \nless  amiably  disposed  than  usual  toward \nMassachusetts.  Some  weeks  before  had  hap- \npened the  affair  of  the  Hutchinson  letters. \nBenjamin  Franklin,  then  Postmaster-General \n\n\nThe  Tea-Party  and  its  Consequences     85 \n\nof  England,  and  agent  for  Massachusetts, \nhad  secured  possession  of  certain  letters  written \nby  Governor  Hutchinson  and  by  others  in \noffice  in  the  colony.  These  letters  proved  be- \nyond doubt  that  the  Massachusetts  officials \nhad  been  secretly  urging  upon  the  home  gov- \nernment repressive  measures  against  the  col- \nony. This  was  but  what  Bernard  had  done, \nand  what  had  been  suspected  of  his  successor ; \nyet  the  actual  proof  was  too  much  for  Frank- \nlin. He  sent  the  letters,  under  pledge  of \nsecrecy,  home  to  be  read  by  the  leaders  among \nthe  Massachusetts  Whigs.  But  the  pledge \nof  secrecy  could  not  be  kept.  The  letters \nwere  read  in  the  Assembly  and  then  published. \n\"He  had  written,\"  says  Bancroft  of  Hutch- \ninson, \"against  every  part  of  the  Constitution, \nthe  elective  character  of  the  Council,  the \nannual  choice  of  the  Assembly,  the  New \nEngland  organization  of  the  towns ;  had \nadvised  and  solicited  the  total  dependence \nof  the  judiciary  on  the  Crown,  had  hinted  at \nmaking  the  experiment  of  declaring  Martial \nLaw,  and  of  abrogating  English  liberty;  had \n\n\n86  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nadvised  to  the  restraint  of  the  commerce  of \nBoston  and  the  jj^clus^ \nfrom  the  fisheries..\" 1  Hutchinson's  defence \nwas  tliat  he  \"had  never  wrote  any  public \nor  private  letter  that  tends  to  subvert  the \nConstitution.\"  But  he  was  thinking  of  the \nConstitution  rather  than  the  Charter.  The \nprovince  was  thoroughly  roused,  and  sent  to \nEngland  a  firm  yet  respectful  petition  de- \nmanding his  dismissal. \n\nBut  Hutchinson  had  been  serving  the \nking  as  the  king  wished  to  be  served.  The \nwrath  of  the  government  fell  upon  Franklin. \nIn  a  crowded  meeting  of  the  Privy  Council, \nwith  scant  respect  for  the  forms  of  law, \nFranklin  was  subjected  to  elaborate  abuse. \nThere  were  none  to  defend  him  who  could \ngain  a  respectful  hearing ;  he  stood  immovable \nunder  the  tongue-lashing  of  the  Solicitor- \nGeneral,  and  made  no  reply.  \"I  have  never,\" \nhe  said  afterwards,  \"been  so  sensible  of  the \npower  of  a  good  conscience,  for  if  I  had  not \nconsidered  the  thing  for  which  I  have  been \n\nBancroft,  vi,  461,  462. \n\n\nThe  Tea-Party  and  its  Consequences     87 \n\nso  much  insulted,  as  one  of  the  best  actions \nof  my  life,  and  what  I  should  certainly  do \nagain  in  the  same  circumstances,  I  could \nnot  have  supported  it.\"  1  The  suit  which  he \nwore  that  day  he  put  carefully  away,  and \ndid  not  wear  it  again  until  as  Commissioner \nfor  the  United  States  he  signed  in  Paris  the \ntreaty  of  alliance  with  France. \n\nFranklin  was  deprived  of  his  office  under \nthe  crown,  and  the  king  who  directed  the \npunishment,  the  council  who  condemned  him, \nand  the  Parliament  which  cheered  them  both \non,  were  not  yet  satisfied.  When  the  news  of \nthe  Tea-Party  came,  they  felt  that  their  chance \nhad  come  to  strike  at  the  real  culprit.  The \nking  consulted  General  Gage,  who  was  fresh \nfrom  Boston,  and  listened  eagerly  to  his \nfatally  mistaken  account  of  the  situation. \n\"He  says,\"  wrote  the  king  to  Lord  North, \n\"  'They  will  be  lions  while  we  are  lambs ; \nbut  if  we  take  the  resolute  part  they  will \nundoubtedly  prove  very  meek.'  Four  regi- \nments sent  to  Boston  will,  he  thinks,  be \n\n1  Bancroft,  vi,  498. \n\n\n88  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nsufficient  to  prevent  any  disturbance.\"  1  On \nsuch  a  basis  the  king  and  his  prime  minister \nplanned  the  laws  which  should  punish  the \ntown  of  Boston. \n\nThe  first  act  was  the  Boston  Port  Bill.  It \nclosed  the  port  to  all  commerce  until  the \nEast  India  Company  should  be  paid  for  its \ntea,  and  the  king  satisfied  that  the  town  was \nrepentant.  Nothing  except  food  and  fuel \nwas  to  be  brought  to  the  town  in  boats ;  in \nfact,  as  Lord  North  promised  the  Commons, \nBoston  was  to  be  removed  seventeen  miles \nfrom  the  ocean.  For  Salem  was  made  the \nport  of  entry,  and  there  the  governor  and \nthe  collector,  the  surveyor  and  the  comp- \ntroller, and  all  underlings  were  to  go.  It \nwas  planned  to  station  war-ships  in  Boston \nHarbor  to  enforce  the  law. \n\nThe  second  law  was  the  \"Bill  for  the  better \nRegulating  the  Government  of  the  Massachu- \nsetts Bay,\"  generally  called  the  Regulating \nAct.  This  virtually  swept  away  the  charter \nof  Massachusetts.  It  provided  first  that  the \n\n1  Avery,  \"History  of  the  United  States,\"  v,  190. \n\n\nThe  Tea-Party  and  its  Consequences     89 \n\nCouncil  was  to  be  appointed  by  the  king, \nand  next  that  without  the  consent  of  the \nCouncil  the  governor  might  appoint  or  re- \nmove all  officers  of  justice,  from  judges  to \nconstables.  By  the  provisions  of  the  law  even \nthe  jury  lists  could  be  controlled  by  appointive \nofficers.  Finally  town  meetings  were  made \nillegal  throughout  the  province,  except  for \nthe  election  of  town  officers,  and  other  nec- \nessary local  business. \n\nThe  third  proposal  of  the  government  was \na  bill  \"for  the  Impartial  Administration  of \nJustice,\"  in  proposing  which  \"  it  was  observed \nthat  Lord  North  trembled  and  faultered  at \nevery  word  of  his  motion.\"  It  provided  that \nmagistrates,  officers,  or  soldiers  might  be  tried \nfor  \"murder,  or  any  other  capital  offence,\"  in \nGreat  Britain. \n\nThe  fourth  act  made  provision  for  quarter- \ning troops  in  Boston. \n\nThe  bills  went  through  Parliament  without \nmuch  opposition.  Says  Trevelyan,  \"Even \nafter  the  lapse  of  a  century  and  a  quarter  the \ndebates  are  not  pleasant  reading  for  an  Eng- \n\n\n9O  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nlishman.\"  1  It  was  assumed  that  the  punish- \nment was  just,  and  that  not  only  Boston  but \nalso  the  whole  continent  would  take  it  meekly. \nA  few  voices  were  raised  in  protest,  but  as  a \nrule  even  the  Opposition  was  silent.  One  by \none  the  bills  became  law.  One  more  step \nwas  taken  toward  separation. \n\n1U  American  Revolution,\"  Part  I,  181. \n\n\nCHAPTER  V \n\nTHE    OCCUPATION    OF    BOSTON \n\nEARLY  in  May  of  1774  Hutchinson, \nostensibly  called  to  England  to  advise \nthe  king,  gave  up  his  offices  in  Massa- \nchusetts. His  exile  was  approaching.  Never \nagain  was  he  to  see  the  fair  hill  of  Milton, \nnor  to  look  from  its  top  upon  the  town  and \nharbor  that  he  loved.  The  Whigs  exulted \nover  the  fall  of  \"the  damn'd  arch  traitor;\" \nyet  surely,  though  as  an  official  he  failed  in \nhis  task,  and  as  a  patriot  misread  the  temper \nand  the  capacity  of  his  countrymen,  he  com- \nmands our  pity.  Amid  the  booming  of  the \ncannon  which  welcomed  his  successor  he  pre- \npared for  his  departure.  Except  for  his  pa- \nthetic letters  and  journals  he  made  no  further \nmark  upon  his  times  or  ours.  His  Milton \nestate  remains,  but  his  house  is  gone,  and \nthe  very  street  that  he  lived  on  bears \n\n91 \n\n\n92  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nthe    name    of   Adams,    his    most    persistent \nenemy. \n\nHutchinson's  successor  was  Thomas  Gage, \nthe  first  governor  sent  to  Boston  with  an \narmy  at  his  back.  He  was  well  known  in \nthe  colonies,  for  he  had  fought  well  at  Brad- \ndock's  defeat,  had  married  an  American  wife, \nand  was  courteous  and  affable.  It  remained \nto  be  seen  whether  one  of  his  hesitating  tem- \nperament could  meet  the  situation.  With \nfour  regiments  he  had  undertaken  to  pacify \nMassachusetts.  He  had  his  four  regiments \nand  more,  yet  he  must  occasionally  have \nwondered  why  he  found  no  more  signs  of \nweakness  in  the  ranks  of  his  opponents. \n\nAt  this  time  there  were  in  Boston  four \nchief  classes  of  Whigs.  The  first  were  the \nministers,  and  these  for  many  years  had  been \nAmerican  to  the  core.  As  the  first  settlers \nof  Massachusetts,  whether  Puritan  or  Pilgrim, \nhad  fled  away  from  prelacy,  so  their  spiritual \ndescendants  still  hated  the  name  of  bishop. \nIn  fact,  episcopacy  in  New  England  was  still \nweak,  and  its  greater  part  was  concentrated \n\n\nThe  Occupation  of  Boston  93 \n\nin  Boston  itself.  Some  few  of  its  ministers \npreached  submission ;  but  they  either  had  to \ncontent  themselves  with  Tory  congregations, \nor  lost  their  pulpits,  or  had  them  boarded  up \nagainst  them.  The  wiser  part  was  taken  by \nmost  in  avoiding  politics.  The  sole  Congre- \ngational minister  who  supported  the  king  was \nMather  Byles,  famed  for  his  witticisms,  and \nhe  likewise  declined  to  bring  into  the  pulpit \nany  mention  of  the  affairs  of  the  day.  \"In \nthe  first  place,\"  he  told  those  who  demanded \nan  expression  of  his  opinion,  \"I  do  not  under- \nstand politics ;  in  the  second  place  you  all \ndo,  every  man  and  mother's  son  of  you;  in \nthe  third  place  you  have  politics  all  the  week, \nso  pray  let  one  day  in  the  seven  be  devoted \nto  religion ;  in  the  fourth  place  I  am  engaged \nin  work  of  infinitely  greater  importance. \nGive  me  any  subject  to  preach  on  of  more \nconsequence  than  the  truth  I  bring  to  you, \nand  I  will  preach  on  it  next  Sabbath.\"  1 \n\nGage's  support  from  the  pulpit  was  there- \nfore weak,  while  at  the  same  time  the  oppo- \n\n1  Sabine's  \"  Loyalists,\"  190. \n\n\n94  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nsition  from  the  same  source  was  strong. \nThose  country  ministers  who  were  of  the \npolitical  creed  of  Sam  Adams  confessed  it \neach  Sabbath,  and  desisted  not  on  week  days \nfrom  strengthening  the  wills  of  their  congre- \ngations. More  than  that,  like  their  prede- \ncessors in  older  times,  many  held  chaplain- \ncies in  the  militia,  and  on  training  days  turned \nout,  not  only  to  approve  by  their  presence  the \nobject  of  the  drill,  but  also  to  stir  the  spirit \nof  the  homespun  soldiery  by  prayers  to  the \nGod  of  Moses,  and  of  Joshua,  and  of  David. \nThose  in  Boston,  under  the  very  nose  of  the \ngeneral  and  in  the  presence  of  his  soldiery, \nabated  nothing  of  their  zeal,  but  preached \nresistance  as  before.  Gage,  as  he  looked \namong  them  for  signs  of  wavering,  could \nhave  found  very  little  comfort. \n\nThe  lawyers  next,  like  the  clergymen,  had \nsupplied  the  Whigs  much  of  their  strength. \nSurely,  up  to  the  present  the  patriot  party \nhad  been  distinguished  by  pliancy  and  per- \nsistence. These  characteristics  had  come  from \nthe  lawyers,  whose  rejoinders  and  remon- \n\n\nThe  Occupation  of  Boston  95 \n\nstrances,  petitions,  resolves,  and  appeals  were \nfamiliar  professional  devices.  Yet  Gage  might \nhave  found  hope  in  these  men.  For  the  pur- \npose of  all  their  delays  had  been  compromise, \nand  their  hope  was  the  avoidance  of  blood- \nshed. The  lawyers  had  showed,  too,  a  love \nof  fair  play ;  for  while  they  pressed  the  Tories \nhard,  they  had  also  taken  the  lead  in  protest- \ning against  mob  violence.  Again,  leading \nWhig  lawyers  had  defended  —  and  acquitted \n-the  perpetrators  of  the  Massacre.  Possi- \nbly such  men  might  be  made  to  see  reason. \n\nA  more  numerous  class  than  the  lawyers \nwas  made  up  of  the  merchants,  small  and \nlarge.  Some  few  of  these  men  had  made \ntheir  own  way  in  the  world,  yet  most  of  them \nmay  almost  have  been  said  to  have  held \nhereditary  positions  in  the  provincial  aristoc- \nracy. By  far  the  larger  number  of  them \nwere  Whigs,  some  of  considerable  estate, \nothers  —  like  that  John  Andrews  from  whose \nletters  I  have  already  quoted  and  shall  quote \nmore  —  were  men  of  moderate  means, \nshrewdly  working  for  a  \"  competency.\"  Gage, \n\n\n96  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nlooking  forward  to  the  enforcement  of  the \nPort  Bill,  could  see  that  these  men  would  be \nhard  hit.  While  they  had  so  far  been  firm \nin  the  colonial  cause,  the  coming  temptation \nto  desert  their  party  would  be  very  strong. \nIncome,  security,  and  the  favor  of  the  king \nawaited  them. \n\nAt  the  end  of  this  series  was  the  largest \nclass  of  all,  the  mechanics.  Until  now  these \nmen  had  been  eager  in  their  demonstrations \nagainst  technical  oppression  —  which  yet  was \ntechnical  after  all.  No  Boston  Whig  had \never  known  a  tithe  of  the  wrongs  of  the \nFrench  peasant  or  the  Russian  serf.  No \nlaboring  class  on  earth  enjoyed  or  ever  had \nenjoyed  greater  freedom  or  less  hampered \nprosperity.  But  with  the  enforcement  of  the \nPort  Bill  all  this  would  change.  Gage  hoped, \nand  the  Tories  declared,  that  the  mechanics, \nso  soon  as  pressure  was  applied,  would  \"fall \naway  from  the  faction.\" \n\nThe  first  results  of  the  new  regime  were \nnot  promising.  To  begin  with,  on  the  news \nof  the  passage  of  the  Port  Bill  the  Committee \n\n\nThe  Occupation  of  Boston  97 \n\nof  Correspondence  of  Boston  called  a  meeting \nof  the  committees  of  the  neighboring  towns. \nThis  meeting  scouted  the  idea  of  paying  for \nthe  tea,  and  in  a  circular  letter  to  the  other \ncolonies  proposed  a  general  cessation  of  trade \nwith  Great  Britain.  Similarly  the  town  meet- \ning of  Boston  discussed  the  situation,  pro- \nnounced against  the  Port  Bill,  and  appealed \nto  all  the  sister  colonies,  entreating  not  to  be \nleft  to  suffer  alone.  In  more  homely  language \nthe  merchants  appealed  to  their  friends. \n\"Yes,  Bill,\"  wrote  John  Andrews  to  his \nbrother-in-law  in  Philadelphia,  \"  nothing  will \nsave  us  but  an  entire  stoppage  of  trade,  both \nto  England  and  the  West  Indies.  .  .  .  The \nleast  hesitancy  on  your  part  to  the  Souther  d, \nand  the  matter  is  over.\" \n\nThere  was  little  hesitancy.  The  suggestion \nmade  by  the  Boston  Whigs  was  taken  up,  and \nthe  maritime  towns,  which  had  been  expected \nto  take  advantage  of  Boston's  predicament, \nbegan  to  discontinue  trade,  not  merely  with \nGreat  Britain,  but  also  with  the  West  Indies. \nThen  Salem,  which  was  to  be  the  capital  in \n\n\n98  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nplace  of  Boston,  formally  repudiated  the  idea \nof  profiting  by  the  situation.  The  news \nspread  to  the  other  colonies,  and  they  began \nto  act.  New  York  proposed,  and  the  sister \nprovinces  agreed  in,  a  call  for  \"a  general \nCongress.\"  In  less  than  a  month  after  the \ncoming  of  the  news  of  the  Port  Bill,  Boston \nwas  assured  that  the  continent  would  not \nleave  her  to  suffer  alone.  i \n\nBut  then,  on  the  first  of  June,  1774,  the \nPort  Bill  went  into  effect.  So  literally  was \nit  interpreted,  that  all  carriage  by  boat  in  the \nharbor  was  forbidden.  No  owner  of  a  pas- \nture on  the  harbor  islands  might  bring  his \nhay  to  the  town ;  no  goods  might  be  brought \nacross  any  ferry;  not  even  carriage  by  water \nfrom  wharf  to  wharf  in  the  town  was  allowed. \nFurther,  while  food  and  fuel,  according  to  the \nprovisions  of  the  act,  might  be  brought  to \nBoston  by  water,  all  vessels  carrying  them \nwere  forced  to  go  through  troublesome  formal- \nities. They  must  report  at  the  customs  in \nSalem,  unload,  load  again,  and  receive  a \nclearance  for  Boston.  Returning,  they  might \n\n\nThe  Occupation  of  Boston  99 \n\ncarry  enough  provision  to  last  them  only  to \nSalem.  Besides  all  this,  the  Commissioners \nof  Customs  at  Salem  undertook  to  decide \nwhen  Boston  had  enough  provisions.  The \nblockade,  as  enforced  by  them  and  the  ships \nof  war  in  Boston  Harbor,  was  minutely  com- \nplete and  vexatious. \n\nYet  at  their  mildest  its  provisions  were \ncomplete  enough.  Trade  by  sea  with  the \ntown  was  stopped.  Consequently,  so  mari- \ntime were  the  town's  activities,  prosperity \nwas  instantly  checked.  All  the  workers  im- \nmediately dependent  on  the  sea  for  a  living, \nsailors,  wharfingers,  longshoremen,  and  fisher- \nmen, were  at  once  thrown  out  of  employ- \nment. Then  by  a  severe  interpretation  of \nthe  act  all  ship-building  was  stopped,  since  the \nauthorities  declared  that,  on  launching,  any \nboat  would  be  confiscated.  The  shipyards \nshut  down,  the  boats  ready  to  launch  were \nfilled  with  water  \"for  their  preservation,\"  1 \nand  ship-carpenters,  calkers,  rope-makers, \nand  sailmakers  were  thrown  out  of  work. \n\n1  Andrews  Letters. \n\n\nioo  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nMuch  misery  to  the  unemployed  would  have \nbeen  the  result  but  for  the  forethought  of \nthe  patriot  leaders. \n\nThese  men,  early  realizing  the  threatened \nhardship,  called  for  help  from  the  rest  of  the \ncountry.  The  response  was  prompt.  \"A \nspecial  chronicle,\"  says  Bancroft,  \"could \nhardly  enumerate  all  the  generous  deeds.\" \nWhile  Lord  North,  fresh  from  an  interview \nwith  Hutchinson,  cheered  the  king  with  the \nbelief  that  the  province  would  soon  submit, \nSouth  Carolina  was  sending  a  cargo  of  pro- \nvisions in  a  vessel  offered  for  the  purpose  by \nthe  owner,  and  sailed  without  wages  by  the \ncaptain  and  her  crew.  Sheep  were  driven \ninto  Boston  from  all  New  England;  provi- \nsions of  every  kind  were  brought  in;  wheat \nwas  sent  by  the  French  in  Quebec ;  money \nwas  subscribed  and  sent  from  the  more  distant \npoints.  All  supplies  thus  received  were  put \nin  the  hands  of  a  donation  committee,  who \ndistributed  the  gifts  to  the  needy. \n\nYet  in  spite  of  such  relief  as  this,  and \nthough  for  a  short  time  employment  was \n\n\nThe  Occupation  of  Boston  101 \n\ngiven  to  workmen  by  permitting  them  to \nfinish,  launch,  rig,  and  send  away  the  ships \nthen  on  the  stocks,  the  situation  was  hard  at \nbest.  It  was  felt  not  only  by  the  lower \nclasses,  but  by  the  merchants,  whose  profits \nceased,  and  by  all  who  depended  for  their \nincome  on  the  current  trade  and  activity  of \nthe  town.  Gossipy  John  Andrews  gives  us \nthe  situation  as  it  affected  him.  \"If  you'll \nbelieve  me  (though  I  have  got  near  two \nthousand  sterling  out  in  debts  and  about  as \nmuch  more  in  stock),  I  have  not  received \nabove  eighty  or  ninety  pounds  Lawful  money \nfrom  both  resources  for  above  two  months \npast ;  though  previous  to  the  port's  being \nshut,  I  thought  it  an  ordinary  day's  work  if \nI  did  not  carry  home  from  twenty  to  forty \ndollars  every  evening.\"  So  little  ready  money \ncirculated  in  the  town  \"that  really,  Bill,  I \nthink  myself  well  off  to  satisfy  the  necessary \ndemands  of  my  family,  and  you  may  as  well \nask  a  man  for  the  teeth  out  of  his  head  as  to \nrequest  the  payment  of  money  that  he  owes \nyou  (either  in  town  or  country,  for  we  are \n\n\nIO2  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nalike  affected),  for  you'll  be  as  likely  to  get \nthe  one  as  the  other.\"  1 \n\nNow  was,  indeed,  the  time  to  discover  the \nweak  points  in  the  cause  and  organization  of \nthe  Americans.  Even  strong  Whigs  were  at \ntimes  discontented,  and  chiefly  among  the \nmiddle  class,  without  whom  the  leaders  could \nhave  no  strong  support.  Much  of  the  distress \nof  the  shopkeepers  and  merchants  came  from \nthe  \"Solemn  League  and  Covenant\"  which, \nproposed  on  the  first  news  of  the  Port  Bill, \nwas  now  in  actual  operation.  Andrews's  case \nmust  have  been  typical  of  many.  He  had \ncountermanded  all  goods  on  the  news  of  the \nPort  Bill,  and  acquiesced  in  the  non-importa- \ntion agreement:  \"but  upon  y?  measure  not \nbeing  adopted  by  the  Southern  Colonies,  I \nembraced  the  first  opportunity  and  re-ordered \nabout  one-fourth  part  of  such  goods  as  I \nthought  would  be  in  most  demand,  and  be- \n\n1  The  Andrews  Letters,  as  already  noted,  are  in  the \nMassachusetts  Historical  Society's  Proceedings  for \nthe  volume  of  1864-1865.  I  shall  refer  to  them  fre- \nquently without  quoting  pages. \n\n\nThe  Occupation  of  Boston  103 \n\nhold !  in  about  three  or  four  weeks  after \nthat,  I  heard  of  y?  amazing  progress  the  non- \nconsumption  agreement  had  made  through \ny?  country;  which,  in  my  opinion,  has \nserv'd  rather  to  create  dissensions  among \nourselves  than  to  answer  any  valuable \npurpose.\" \n\nMany  of  the  Tories  held  the  same  opinion. \nCould  not  the  waverers,  they  asked  Gage,  be \ninduced  to  change  their  political  faith,  and \nespecially  could  not  the  leaders  be  tempted  ? \n\nAmong  these  leaders  the  influence  of  Otis \nwas  waning.  He  had  always  been  eccentric \nand  unreliable,  and  now  his  intellect  was \nthreatened.  An  assault  upon  him  had  nearly \nruined  both  his  health  and  his  reason.  But \nhis  place  had  been  taken  by  others.  Samuel \nAdams,  John  Adams,  Joseph  Warren,  and \nJohn  Hancock  were  the  men  whose  names \nwere  oftenest  mentioned.  Sinister  rumors \nwere  frequent  that  Gage  had  been  directed \nto  seize  them  and  deport  them  to  England. \nWhether  or  not  more  evidence  against  them \nwas  needed,  no  arrest  was  as  yet  attempted. \n\n\n104  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nInstead,  in  at  least  three  quarters  there  was \nsome  hope  of  corruption. \n\nWarren  the  general  left  untempted ;  it  is \nno  small  tribute  to  the  patriot's  character \nthat  there  could  be  no  doubt  of  his  integrity. \nWarren  was  not  yet  thirty-five  years  old, \nwas  of  good  social  position,  had  an  excellent \npractice  and  an  assured  future.  His  tempera- \nment was  frank  and  manly,  and  so  enthusias- \ntic as  to  be  fiery.  Once  already,  on  the \nanniversary  of  the  Massacre  in  1772,  he  had \naddressed  the  town  meeting  in  condemnation \nof  the  government  measures ;  on  many  other \nopportunities,  before  and  since,  he  had  either \nspoken  in  public  or  expressed  his  opinions \nthrough  the  press.  While  no  advocate  of \nviolence,  he  was  unreservedly  a  Whig,  and \nnothing  could  be  made  of  him.  So  far  as  is \nknown,  no  attempt  was  made  to  corrupt  him. \n\nThe  case  of  John  Adams  was  different, \nat  least  to  Tory  eyes.  He  was  ambitious : \nno  one  who  knew  him  could  doubt  that  he \nwas  conscious  of  his  own  ability.  Further, \nhe  was  poor,  with  a  growing  family  to  support ; \n\n\nThe  Occupation  of  Boston          105 \n\nhe  was  known,  with  the  troubled  times  which \nhe  clearly  foresaw,  to  be  anxious  for  his \nchildren's  future.  Surely  there  was  a  pos- \nsibility that  Adams  might  be  wise,  and  be \ntempted  to  the  safer  course;  and  fortunately \nthere  was  at  hand  an  instrument  to  induce \nhim  to  become  a  Tory.  Adams  was  the  close \npersonal  friend  of  Jonathan  Sewall,  the  king's \nattorney-general  for  the  province,  and  an \nadmirable  character.  The  chance  of  dis- \ntinction, the  certainty  of  prosperity,  and \nthe  importunities  of  such  a  friend,  might  in \nthe  end  persuade  Adams. \n\nOf  John  Hancock  it  was  often  argued  among \nthe  Tories  that  he  might  almost  be  left \nto  himself.  If  Adams  was  ambitious,  Han- \ncock was  more  so ;  known  to  be  vain,  he  was \nbelieved  to  be  jealous  by  nature.  With  these \nweaknesses,  he  was  also  instinctively  an  aris- \ntocrat. How  long,  asked  the  Tories,  would \nhe  continue  to  consort  with  men  of  low \nsocial  position  ?  How  soon  would  he  rebel \nat  being  led  by  the  nose  by  the  wily  Adams  ? \nPosition  and  influence  were  ready  for  him  as \n\n\n106  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nsoon  as  he  chose  to  go  over  to  the  king.  The \nbait  was  always  plain,  and  he  might  be \ncounted  on  eventually  to  take  it. \n\nEven  Samuel  Adams,  so  reasoned  the  ad- \nvisers of  Gage,  might  be  bought.  For  Adams \nwas  poor.  In  his  devotion  to  public  affairs \nhe  had  let  his  business  go  to  ruin,  had  seen  his \nmoney  melt  away,  had  even  sold  off  parts  of \nhis  own  house-lot.  His  sentiments  were  no \nbetter  known  in  Boston  than  his  threadbare \nclothes.  His  sole  income  was  from  his  salary \nas  clerk  of  the  house  of  representatives,  only \na  hundred  pounds  a  year.  To  the  new  gov- \nernor it  was  the  most  natural  thing  in  the \nworld  to  suppose  that  the  discontent  of  such \na  man  could  soon  be  removed.  He  forgot \nHutchinson's  words :  \"  Such  is  the  obstinacy \nand  inflexible  disposition  of  the  man,  that \nhe  never  would  be  conciliated  by  any  office \nor  gift  whatever.\"  * \n\nGage  sent,  therefore,  Colonel  Fenton  to \nAdams  with  offers  which  would  tempt  any \nman  that  had  a  price.  No  definite  knowl- \n\n1  Wells,  \"Life  of  Adams,\"  ii,  193. \n\n\nThe  Occupation  of  Boston  107 \n\nedge  of  the  inducements  has  come  down  to \nus :  money,  place,  possibly  even  a  patent  of \nnobility.  We  know,  however,  that  they  were \ncoupled  with  a  threat  in  the  form  of  advice \nto  make  his  peace  with  the  king.  And  we \ncan  imagine  Adams  as,  rising  from  his \nseat,  and  standing  with  the  habitual  nervous \ntremor  of  head  and  hands  which  often  led \nhis  adversaries  to  mistake  his  mettle,  he \ndelivered  his  fearless  reply. \n\n\"Sir,  I  trust  I  have  long  since  made  my \npeace  with  the  King  of  kings.  No  personal \nconsideration  shall  induce  me  to  abandon \nthe  righteous  cause  of  my  country.  Tell \nGovernor  Gage  that  it  is  the  advice  of  Samuel \nAdams  to  him  no  longer  to  insult  the  feelings \nof  an  exasperated  people  !  \" 1 \n(  And  this  was  in  the  face  of  a  situation  the \nlike  of  which  had  never  been  known  in \nAmerica.  \"Notwithstanding  which,\"  wrote \nJohn  Andrews,  \"there  seems  to  be  ease, \ncontentment,  and  perfect  composure  in  the \ncountenance  of  almost  every  person  you \n\n1  Wells,  \"Adams,\"  ii,  193. \n\n\nio8  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nmeet  in  the  streets,  which  conduct  very  much \nperplexes  the  Governor  and  others,  our  lords \nand  masters,  that  they  are  greatly  puzzled, \nand  know  not  what  to  do  or  how  to  act,  as \nthey  expected  very  different  behaviour  from \n\n\nus.\" \n\n\nThere  is  but  one  explanation  of  such  a \nstate  of  mind  in  the  Whigs,  in  the  face  of \nthe  evidently  approaching  trial.  Their  con- \nsciences were  clear.  This  revolution,  when \nfinally  it  came  about,  was  quite  within  the \nspirit  of  the  British  Constitution.  The  Whigs \nbelieved  they  were  right,  and  had  no  fear \nof  the  consequences.  No  testimony  to  their \nvirtues,  as  the  backbone  of  a  new  nation, \nwill  speak  louder  than  their  present  attitude. \nExternal  testimony  is  not  hard  to  quote. \n\"The  people  of  Boston  and  Massachusetts \nBay,\"  wrote  Thomas  Hollis  but  a  few  weeks \nbefore  this  time,  \"are,  I  suppose,  take  them \nas  a  body,  the  soberest,  most  knowing,  vir- \ntuous people  at  this  time  upon  earth.\"  Other \nEnglish  opinion  to  the  same  effect,  and  French \nadmiration  by  the  chapter,  might  be  quoted. \n\n\nThe  Occupation  of  Boston  109 \n\nYet  a  truer  proof  of  the  quality  of  the  people \nis  to  be  found  in  the  calm  self-confidence \nwhich  \"very  much  perplexed\"  the  governor. \n\nOne  more  comment  may  safely  be  ventured \nhere.  Before  two  years  were  over  it  was \nknown  that  Gage,  and  perhaps  even  Hutch- \ninson  during  his  administration,  had  had \nthe  most  complete  information  of  the  secret \ndoings  of  the  Whig  leaders.  In  fact,  even \nthe  deliberations  of  the  workmen's  caucuses \nmust  have  been  known  to  Gage.  That  no \narrests  were  made  can  mean  but  one  thing : \nthat  the  Whigs  were  honest  in  their  endeavor \nto  work  their  ends  by  legal  means.  Samuel \nAdams  may  have  foreseen  the  eventual  out- \ncome, and  knowing  it  to  be  inevitable  may \nhave  striven  to  make  it  speedy  and  complete. \nBut  there  was  no  general  scheme  for  inde- \npendence, no  plot  for  a  revolt.  \"The  Father \nof  the  Revolution\"  laid  his  plans  in  silence, \nand  waited  for  the  ripening  of  the  times. \n\nGage  and  his  advisers,  \"greatly  puzzled,\" \nalso  watched  the  crystallizing  of  opinion. \nOf  the  temper  of  the  Bostonians,  although \n\n\nno  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\noppressed  by  the  Port  Bill,  there  could  pres- \nently be  no  doubt.  Emboldened  by  the  pres- \nence of  troops  in  the  town,  the  Tories  called \ntown  meetings,  first  to  resolve  to  pay  for  the \ntea,  and  then  to  dismiss  the  Committee  of \nCorrespondence.  These  two  actions,  if  taken, \nwould  have  totally  changed  the  situation. \nThe  meetings  were  crowded,  every  courtesy \nwas  shown  the  Tories,  and  in  the  second \nmeeting,  since  Adams  was  absent,  the  Whigs \nhad  to  be  content  with  the  leadership  of \nWarren.  But  there  was  no  hesitation  in \neither  case.  The  first  meeting  rejected  the \nproposal  to  pay  for  the  tea.  In  the  second \nthe  discretion  of  Warren  proved  equal  to  his \nzeal,  his  management  of  the  meeting  was \nperfect,  and  the  vote  upheld  the  Committee \nof  Correspondence  by  a  large  majority. \n\nThe  next  action  explains  the  absence  of \nAdams  from  Boston  at  such  an  important \ntime.  According  to  the  new  laws,  the  As- \nsembly met  at  Salem,  under  the  eye  of \nthe  governor  and  in  the  presence  of  his \ntroops.  Gage  knew  very  well  that  a  call \n\n\nThe  Occupation  of  Boston  ill \n\nhad  been  sent  throughout  the  colonies  for  an \nelection  of  delegates  to  a  general  Congress \nwhich  should  deliberate  on  the  present  situ- \nation. He  had  no  intention  that  delegates \nshould  be  elected  from  Massachusetts.  He \nhad  partisans  in  the  Assembly,  and  an  inform- \nant on  the  committee  to  introduce  legislation. \nEvery  move  was  reported  to  him.  Never \ndid  Sam  Adams  dissemble  more  cleverly. \nSo  dull  and  spiritless  did  public  matters \nseem,  that  Gage's  informant  thought  it \nsafe  to  go  home  on  private  business. \nThen  Adams  acted.  Quietly  laying  his \nplans,  on  the  morning  of  the  seventeenth \nof  June,  1774,  he  locked  the  door  of  the \nchamber  and  proposed  that  the  Assembly \nelect  delegates  to  the  Continental  Congress. \nA  Tory  pleaded  sickness  and  hurried  to  Gage \nwith  the  news  ;  but  the  door  was  again  locked, \nand  the  business  proceeded.  Though  the \ngovernor  sent  his  secretary  with  a  message \ndissolving  the  Assembly,  the  secretary  knocked \nin  vain.  The  doors  were  not  opened  until \ndelegates  had  been  elected  to  the  Congress, \n\n\n112  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\na  tax  laid  to  pay  their  expenses,  and  reso- \nlutions passed  exhorting  the  province  to \nstand  firm. \n\nOne  of  the  delegates-elect  was  John  Adams. \nFor  years  he  had  declined  to  hold  public \noffice,  and  had  even  avoided  town  meetings. \nThere  was  now  a  natural  Tory  hope  that  he \nmight  refuse  this  office;  there  was  even  a \nlast  chance  to  wean  him  from  the  Whig \ncause,  for  he  was  presently  to  ride  on  circuit, \nand  there  would  meet  his  friend  Sewall. \nWhen  the  two  met,  the  Tory  reasoned  ear- \nnestly, pointing  out  the  irresistible  power  of \nGreat  Britain.  But  Adams  was  ready  with \nhis  answer.  \"Sink  or  swim,  live  or  die, \nsurvive  or  perish  with  my  country  is  my \nunalterable  determination.\" l  And  so  went \nanother  hope  of  the  Tories. \n\nThe  summer  of  1774  wore  along,  with  no  im- \nprovement in  the  situation.  Rather  it  became \nworse.  So  much  time  had  elapsed  without \ndefinite  news  of  the  passing  of  the  Regulating \n\n1  Bancroft,  edition  of  1876,  iv,  344.  Subsequent \nreferences  to  Bancroft  will  be  to  this  edition. \n\n\nThe  Occupation  of  Boston  113 \n\nAct,  that  there  was  hope  that  the  measure \nhad  failed.  But  early  in  August  came  news  of \nits  passage,  and  with  it  a  list  of  appointments \nfor  the  new  Council.  The  appointees  were \nall  chosen  from  among  the  Tories,  or  from \nthose  inclined  to  the  king's  side.  \"It  is \napprehended,\"  wrote  Andrews,  \"that  most \nof  'em  will  accept.\" \n\nNow  at  last  it  was  natural  to  suppose \nthat  the  Whigs  had  come  to  the  end  of  their \nresources.  Their  Assembly  was  dissolved,  a \nTory  held  each  appointive  position,  Boston \nwas  filled  with  soldiers,  and  the  harbor  was \nguarded  by  ships  of  war.  Active  opposition \nto  the  troops  would  have  been  madness,  and \nit  seemed  impossible  to  conduct  even  the \nordinary  business  of  the  town,  for  now  town \nmeetings  might  legally  be  called  only  for \nthe  purpose  of  electing  officers.  Yet  when \nGage  called  the  selectmen  before  him,  and \ngraciously  indicated  his  willingness  to  allow \nmeetings  for  certain  harmless  purposes,  the \nreply  surprised  him.  There  was  no  need, \nsaid  the  selectmen,  to  ask  his  permission  for \n\n\n114  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\na  meeting :  they  had  one  in  existence  already. \nIn  fact  they  had  two,  the  May  meeting  and \nthe  June  meeting,  each  legally  called  before \nthe  enforcement  of  the  Regulating  Act,  and \neach  legally  \"adjourned\"  until  such  time \nas  it  was  needed.  The  technical  subterfuge \nwas  too  much  for  Gage,  and  the  adjournments \ncontinued  in  spite  of  the  law. \n\nAs  the  Massachusetts  delegates  prepared \nfor  their  journey  to  Philadelphia,  where  the \nCongress  was  to  be  held,  there  occurred,  if \nwe  can  believe  the  story  told  by  John  Andrews \n—  it  was  certainly  believed  in  Boston  at  the \ntime  —  a  demonstration  of  affection  for  Sam- \nuel Adams.  \"For  not  long  since  some  per- \nsons (their  names  unknown)  sent  and  ask'd \nhis  permission  to  build  him  a  new  barn,  the \nold  one  being  decay'd,  which  was  executed \nin  a  few  days.  A  second  sent  to  ask  leave \nto  repair  his  house,  which  was  thoroughly \neffected  soon.  A  third  sent  to  beg  the  favor \nof  him  to  call  at  a  taylor's  shop  and  be  meas- \nur'd  for  a  suit  of  cloaths  and  chuse  his  cloth, \nwhich  were  finish'd  and  sent  home  for  his \n\n\nThe  Occupation  of  Boston  115 \n\nacceptance.  A  fourth  presented  him  with  a \nnew  whig,1  a  fifth  with  a  new  Hatt,  a  sixth \nwith  a  pair  of  the  best  silk  hose,  a  seventh \nwith  six  pair  of  fine  thread  ditto,  a  eighth \nwith  six  pair  shoes,  and  a  ninth  modestly \ninquired  of  him  whether  his  finances  want \nrather  low  than  otherways.  He  reply'd  it \nwas  true  that  was  the  case,  but  he  was  very \nindifferent  about  these  matters,  so  that  his \npoor  abilities  was  of  any  service  to  the  Pub- \nlick  ;  upon  which  the  Gentleman  obliged  him \nto  accept  of  a  purse  containing  about  15  or \n20  Johannes.\"  It  is  possible  that  these \nattentions  to  Adams  grew  out  of  the  desire \nthat  he,  so  well  known  in  Boston  that  his \nshabbiness  meant  nothing,  should  appear \nwell  at  the  Congress,  where  his  dress  might \nprejudice  others  against  him.  True  or  not, \nthis  little  story  has  its  significance,  for,  says \nAndrews  to  his  correspondent,  \"  I  mention  this \nto  show  you  how  much  he  is  esteem'd  here. \nThey  value  him  for  his  good  sense,  great \nabilities,  amazing  fortitude,  noble  resolution, \n\nlSic! \n\n\nn6  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nand  undaunted  courage :  being  firm  and  un- \nmov'd  at  all  the  various  reports  that  were \npropagated  in  regard  to  his  being  taken  up \nand  sent  home,1  notwithstanding  he  had \nrepeated  letters  from  his  friends,  both  in \nEngland  as  well  as  here,  to  keep  out  of  the \nway.\" \n\nIf  the  governor  desired  to  arrest  Adams,  he \nhad  plenty  of  opportunity.  There  was  even \na  public  occasion  to  take  all  the  delegates \ntogether,  when  they  left  the  town  on  their \nway  to  Philadelphia.  \"A  very  respectable \nparade,\"  wrote  Andrews,  \"in  sight  of  five  of \nthe  Regiments  encamp'd  on  the  Common, \nbeing  in  a  coach  and  four,  preceded  by  two \nwhite  servants  well  mounted  and  arm'd,  with \nfour  blacks  behind  in  livery,  two  on  horse- \nback and  two  footmen.\"  Perhaps  Gage \nbreathed  a  sigh  of  relief  with  the  \"brace  of \nAdamses\"  away,  but  his  real  troubles  were \nonly  beginning. \n\nMassachusetts  would  have  nothing  to  do \nwith  the  newly  appointed  officers.  The  thirty- \n\n1  Note  the  use  of  the  word,  as  meaning  England. \n\n\nThe  Occupation  of  Boston  117 \n\nsix  councillors,  appointed  under  writ  of  man- \ndamus, excited  the  most  indignation.  Of  the \nBoston  nominees  thirteen  accepted,  two  de- \nclined, and  four  took  time  to  consider; \nthroughout  the  province  the  proportion  was \nabout  the  same.  But  those  who  wavered  and \nthose  who  accepted  presently  heard  from \ntheir  neighbors.  Leonard  of  Taunton,  hear- \ning of  a  surprise  party  mustering  from  the \nneighboring  towns,  departed  hastily  for  Bos- \nton. His  father,  by  promises  that  he  would \nurge  his  son  to  resign,  with  difficulty  pre- \nvailed on  the  disgusted  neighbors  to  leave  the \ncouncillor's  property  unharmed.  In  Worces- \nter, Timothy  Paine  was  taken  to  the  com- \nmon, and,  in  the  presence  of  two  thousand \nstanding  in  military  order,  he  read  his  declina- \ntion of  his  appointment.  Ruggles  of  Hard- \nwick  was  warned  not  to  return  home;  his \nneighbors  swore  that  he  should  never  pass \nthe  great  bridge  of  the  town  alive.  Murray \nof  Rutland,  like  Leonard  of  Taunton,  escaped \nthe  attentions  of  his  townspeople,  who  scorned \nthe  threat  of  confiscation  and  death,  and \n\n\nn8  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\ndemanded  his  resignation.  \"This,\"  wrote  his \nbrother  to  him,  \"is  not  the  language  of  the \ncommon  people  only:  those  that  have  here- \ntofore sustained  the  fairest  character  are  the \nwarmest  in  this  matter;  and,  among  the \nmany  friends  you  have  heretofore  had,  I \ncan  scarcely  mention  any  to  you  now.\" \n\nThe  people  did  not  always  act  with  vio- \nlence, but  the  compulsion  which  they  put \nupon  their  fellow-townsmen  was  strong. \nWatson  of  Plymouth,  long  respected  in  the \ntown,  had  been  appointed  by  the  king  to  the \nCouncil,  and  had  intended  to  accept.  But \nwhen  he  appeared  in  church  on  the  following \nSunday,  his  friends  rose  and  left  the  meeting- \nhouse. In  the  face  of  their  scorn  he  bowed \nhis  head  over  his  cane,  and  resolved  to  resign.1 \n\nMore  than  twenty  of  the  thirty-six  coun- \ncillors either  declined  their  appointment,  or \nresigned.  The  rest  could  find  no  safety  ex- \ncept in  Boston,  under  the  protection  of  the \ntroops.  Even  the  courts  were  prevented  from \n\n1 1  take  these  facts  from  Bancroft  and  the  Andrews \nLetters. \n\n\nThe  Occupation  of  Boston  119 \n\nsitting,  in  one  case  by  the  ingenious  method \nof  packing  the  court-room  so  solidly  with \nspectators  that  judge  and  sheriff  could  not \nenter.  Only  among  the  garrison  at  Boston \nwas  there  comfort  for  the  Tory  officials. \n\nBoston  itself  was  troublesome  enough. \nWhen  Gage,  regarding  himself  as  \"person- \nally affronted\"  by  John  Hancock,1  removed \nhim  from  command  of  the  Cadets,  the  com- \npany sent  a  deputation  to  Salem  and  returned \nhim  their  standard,  declining  longer  to  keep \nup  their  customary  service  as  the  governor's \nbody-guard.  The  governor,  vexed,  replied \nthat  had  he  previously  known  of  their  inten- \ntions, he  would  have  dismissed  them  himself. \n\nThe  town  meetings  troubled  him  also. \nSalem  held  one  under  his  nose,  in  spite  of  a \nfeint  to  interrupt  them  by  the  soldiers.  When \nhe  summoned  the  committee  of  correspond- \nence of  the  town  to  answer  for  the  meeting, \nthey  were  stubborn  and  defiant,  refused  to \n\n1  Hancock  seems  to  have  practised  upon  Gage  the \nsubterfuge  which  he  afterwards  used  with  Washington, \npretending  to  be  too  ill  to  wait  upon  him. \n\n\nI2O  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\ngive  bail  when  arrested,  and  were  conse- \nquently —  released  !  Other  towns  held  meet- \nings to  elect  delegates  to  a  county  conven- \ntion, and  the  governor  was  powerless  to  stop \nthem.  Although  he  had  many  more  troops \nthan  the  four  regiments  with  which  he  first \ndeclared  that  he  could  do  so  much,  he  felt \nhis  helplessness,  and,  cursing  the  town  meet- \nings, waited  for  more  soldiers.  He  sum- \nmoned the  remnant  of  his  council  to  meet  in \nSalem ;  but  the  members  were  afraid  to  come, \nand,  departing  from  his  orders,  he  allowed \nthem  to  sit  in  Boston. \n\nAnd  now,  as  the  weeks  passed  on,  even \nBoston  was  rumbling  with  the  thunder  of \nthe  coming  storm.  Israel  Putnam,  having \ndriven  to  Boston  a  flock  of  sheep,  the  gift \nto  the  poor  of  Boston  from  his  Connecticut \ntown,  became  the  lion  of  the  day.  Meeting \non  the  Common  some  of  his  old  friends  in \nthe  regular  army,  they  chaffed  him  on  the \nmilitary  situation.  Twenty  ships  and  twenty \nregiments,  they  told  him,  were  to  be  expected \nif  the  country  did  not  submit.  \"If  they \n\n\nThe  Occupation  of  Boston  121 \n\ncome,\"  returned  the  stanch  old  Indian  fighter, \n\"I  am  ready  to  treat  them  as  enemies.\" \n\nAt  length  the  forms  of  law  failed  even  in \nBoston.  When  the  judges  summoned  a  jury, \nit  not  only  refused  to  take  oath,  but  pre- \nsented a  written  protest  against  the  au- \nthority on  which  the  court  acted.  The  judges \ngave  up  the  attempt  in  despair,  and  the \ngovernor  and  his  advisers  thought  that  mat- \nters were  come  to  a  pretty  pass  when  a  mere \npetit  juror  could  declare  \"that  his  conscience \nwould  not  let  him  take  oath  whiles  Peter \nOliver  set  upon  the  bench.\" 1  There  was \napparently  no  punishment  to  meet  such \nobduracy. \n\nBut  at  last  news  came  to  Gage  on  which \nhe  felt  compelled  to  act.  Much  powder  had \nbeen  stored  in  the  magazine  at  Quarry  Hill \nin  Charlestown.  He  was  informed  that  dur- \ning August  the  towns  had  removed  their \nstock,  until  there  remained  only  that  which \nbelonged  to  the  province.  This  stock  Gage \ndetermined  to  secure  against  possible  illegal \n\n1  Andrews  Letters. \n\n\n122  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nseizure,  by  seizing  it  himself.  On  the  morning \nof  the  first  of  September,  by  early  daylight, \ndetachments  of  troops  in  boats  took  the \npowder  to  the  Castle,  and  also  secured \ntwo  cannon  from  Cambridge.  Rumors  of \nviolence  and  bloodshed  spread  rapidly,  and \nby  nightfall  half  of  New  England  was  in \nmotion,  marching  toward  Boston. \n\n\nCHAPTER  VI \n\nTHE     POWDER     ALARM     AND     THE     WINTER     OF \nI774-I77S \n\nGAGE  had  by  this  time  given  up  hope \nof  winning  to  his  side  the  leaders  of \nthe  Whigs.  If  he  still  retained  a \ndoubt  of  the  temper  of  the  people,  the  events \nof  the  first  and  second  of  September  would \nhave  made  him  certain.  Marching  in  com- \npanies, they  converged  upon  Cambridge, \nwhence  the  Lieutenant-Governor,  Andrew \nOliver,  hastily  departed  to  Boston,  to  implore \nGage  to  send  out  no  troops,  lest  not  a  man \nof  them  should  return  alive.  On  his  way  in, \nOliver  passed  Warren  hastening  out.  But \nhis  influence  was  not  needed.  The  militia \ncompanies  had  already  laid  aside  their  weapons \nand  were  parading  peacefully  upon  Cambridge \ncommon.  There  they  were  addressed  by \ntwo  of  the  Mandamus  Council,  who  confirmed \n\n123 \n\n\n124  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\ntheir  resignations  and  promised  in  no  way \nto  be  concerned  in  the  acts  of  Gage's  govern- \nment. Then  the  high-sheriff  came  under \nthe  attention  of  the  meeting,  and  likewise \npromised  to  do  nothing  under  the  new  laws. \n\nHallowell,  the  Commissioner  of  Customs, \nescaped  more  serious  handling.  Passing  by \nthe  common  and  its  assemblage  of  Whigs,  he \n\"spoke  somewhat  contemptuously  of  them.\" \nThey  promptly  sent  some  mounted  men  after \nhis  chaise.  On  seeing  them  coming  he  stopped \nhis  chaise,  unhitched  his  horse  and  mounted, \nand  ran  his  pursuers  a  close  race  to  Boston \nNeck,  where  he  found  safety  with  the  guard. \n\nOliver,  returning  to  Cambridge  with  the \ngovernor's  promise  to  send  out  no  troops, \nwas  waited  upon  by  the  great  assemblage. \nThe  Whigs  demanded  his  resignation  as  a \ncouncillor.  This,  after  demurring,  Oliver \ngave,  and  offered  to  resign  also  from  the \nlieutenant-governorship.  But  this  the  com- \npany allowed  him  to  keep.  Andrews  records, \n\"It  is  worthy  remark  that  Judge  Lee  re- \nmarked to  'em,  after  he  had  made  his  resig- \n\n\nThe  Powder  Alarm  125 \n\nnation,  that  he  never  saw  so  large  a  number \nof  people  together  and  preserve  so  peaceable \norder  before  in  his  life.\" \n\nThis  orderly  meeting,  proceeding  with  par- \nliamentary forms,  passed  a  resolve  that  Gage \nwas  within  his  legal  rights  in  removing  the \npowder  from  the  store-house.  They  then \n\"voted  unanimously  their  abhorrence  of  mobs \nand  riots,\"  1  and  with  these  lessons  given  for \nany  one  to  learn,  they  peaceably  turned  toward \ntheir  homes.  On  their  way  they  turned  back \nthose  who,  from  further  away,  were  eagerly \ncoming  to  avenge  the  rumored  death  of  their \ncountrymen  and  the  bombardment  of  the \ntown.  Putnam,  after  disbanding  his  Con- \nnecticut company,  wrote  to  urge  the  men  of \nMassachusetts  to  take  better  care  of  the \nremainder  of  their  powder. \n\nThe  \"Powder  Alarm\"  stirred  the  country \neverywhere.  At  Philadelphia  its  exaggerated \nreports  greatly  disturbed  the  Congress,  but \nthe  response  was  significant.  \"When  the \nhorrid  news  was  brought  here  of  the  bombard- \n\n1  Bancroft. \n\n\n126  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nment  of  Boston,\"  wrote  John  Adams,  \"which \nmade  us  completely  miserable  for  two  days, \nwe  saw  proofs  both  of  the  sympathy  and \nthe  resolution  of  the  continent.  War  !  war  ! \nwar !  was  the  cry,  and  it  was  pronounced  in \na  tone  which  would  have  done  honor  to  the \noratory  of  a  Briton  or  a  Roman.  If  it  had \nproved  true,  you  would  have  heard  the  thun- \nder of  an  American  Congress.\"  1  < \n\nGage  now,  for  the  first  time,  seems  to  have \nhad  a  glimmer  of  an  idea  of  the  formidable \nforces  that  were  against  him.  He  began  to \nconsider  the  military  situation,  and  the  de- \nfence of  the  town  against  another  such  rising. \nIf  on  the  next  occasion  the  provincials  should \nattempt  to  pursue  a  commissioner  not  merely \nto  the  Neck,  but  past  it,  there  must  be  means \nof  stopping  them.  Gage  gave  orders  to  for- \ntify the  Neck,  which  was  in  those  days  the \nsingle  land  approach  to  Boston. \n\nThe  modern  city  in  no  way  resembles  the \nold  town.  Now,  between  South  Boston  and \nCambridge,  a  score  of  highways  lead  into  the \n\n1  Adams  Letters,  39. \n\n\nThe  Powder  Alarm  127 \n\ncity.  Bridges  and  even  tunnels  give  direct \ncommunication  from  South  Boston,  Cam- \nbridge, Charlestown,  Chelsea,  and  East  Bos- \nton. But  in  1774  South  Boston  was  a  mud- \nflat  ;  the  Back  Bay  —  at  least  at  high  water \n—  was  what  its  name  implies ;  Chelsea  was \nWinnisimit,  with  but  half  a  dozen  houses; \nand  East  Boston  was  an  island,  having  but \ntwo  houses  on  it.  Now  the  flats  have  been \nfilled  up,  the  mainland  brought  closer,  and \nthe  approaches  bridged.  In  Governor  Gage's \nday  Boston  was  still  a  peninsula,  roughly \npear-shaped,  and  connected  with  the  main- \nland by  a  strip  of  land  which  was,  at  high \ntide,  scarcely  a  hundred  yards  wide. \n\nBatteries  commanding  the  road  which \ncrossed  this  isthmus  seemed,  at  the  time, \nquite  sufficient  to  defend  the  town.  It  was \nnot  till  later  that  Gage  began  to  consider  the \nheights  of  Dorchester  and  Charlestown,  which, \nto  the  south  and  north,  threatened  Boston. \nNow  he  set  to  work  upon  an  earthwork  at  the \nNeck,  brought  cannon  there,  and  began  to \nbuild  block-houses.  It  was  reported  that  he \n\n\n128  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nwas  to  cut  a  ditch  across  the  Neck,  and  con- \nfine traffic  to  a  narrow  bridge  ;  but  at  the \nobjection  of  the  selectmen  such  an  idea,  if \nhe  had  considered  it,  was  given  up.  Protest \nagainst  the  new  earthworks  was  also  lodged. \nThe  selectmen  of  the  town,  and  a  committee \nfrom  the  convention  for  Suffolk  County \nwhich  then  happened  to  sit,  came  to  Gage \nwith  remonstrances.  Warren,  from  the  con- \nvention, twice  urged  his  demands.  \"Good \nGod,  gentlemen,\"  responded  the  harried  gov- \nernor, \"make  yourselves  easy,  and  I  will  be \n\n\nso.\" \n\n\nThere  was  no  more  ease  of  mind  for  Gov- \nernor Gage.  Within  the  limits  of  Boston \nand  Charlestown  were  several  cannon  belong- \ning to  the  militia  organizations  of  the  town. \nWhen  the  general  tried  to  secure  the  Charles- \ntown  guns  from  secretion  by  the  provincials, \nthey  disappeared.  \"Ever  since,\"  wrote  An- \ndrews a  fortnight  later,  \"the  General  has \nordered  a  double  guard  to  y?  new  and  old \ngun  houses,  where  y?  brass  field  pieces  be- \n\n1  Andrews  Letters. \n\n\nThe  Powder  Alarm  129 \n\nlonging  to  our  militia  are  lodged:  notwith- \nstanding which  .  .  .  We'n'sday  evening,  or \nrather  night,  our  people  took  these  from  the \nOld  house  (by  opening  the  side  of  the  house) \nand  carried  away  through  Frank  Johonnot's \nGarden.  Upon  which  he  gave  it  in  orders \nthe  next  day  to  the  officer  on  guard  to  re- \nmove those  from  the  New  house  (which \nstands  directly  opposite  the  encampment  of \nthe  4th  Regiment  and  in  the  middle  of  the \nstreet  near  the  large  Elm  tree),  sometime  the \nnext  night  into  the  camp ;  and  to  place  a \nguard  at  each  end,  or  rather  at  both  doors, \ntill  then.  At  the  fixed  hour  the  Officer  went \nwith  a  number  of  Mattrosses  to  execute  his \norders,  but  behold,  the  guns  were  gone!\" \nLest  the  guns  in  the  North  Battery  should \nsimilarly  be  spirited  away,  the  bewildered \ngeneral  ordered  them  to  be  spiked. \n\nHis  state  of  mind  was  not  improved  when \nhe  received,  as  he  did  early  in  September, \nthe  resolutions  passed  by  the  Suffolk  conven- \ntion. The  Suffolk  Resolves,  as  they  are \ncalled,  covered  the  whole  of  the  existing  situa- \n\n\n130  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\ntion.  Repudiating  the  king's  claim  to  un- \nconditional obedience,  they  declared  the  Regu- \nlating Act  unconstitutional,  and  called  on  all \nofficers  under  it  to  resign  their  places.  They \nadvised  that  all  taxes  should  be  withheld \nfrom  the  king's  treasury,  and  suggested  a \nprovincial  congress  to  deal  with  the  affairs  of \nMassachusetts.  The  resolves  further  declared \nthat  the  Americans  had  no  intention  of  ag- \ngression, advised  peaceful  measures,  but \nthreatened  to  seize  all  crown  officers  if  any \npolitical  arrest  were  made.  Looking  forward \nto  the  eventual  rupture,  the  resolves  advised \nthe  towns  to  choose  their  military  officers \nwith  great  care,  and  finally  made  provision \nto  spread  alarm  or  summon  assistance  at  a \nmoment's  notice. \n\nAffairs  had  now  reached  a  new  phase. \nThe  barrier  which  Gage  had  erected  at  the \nNeck  had  effectually  cut  him  off  from  the \nprovince  which  he  had  been  sent  to  govern. \nFrom  that  time  on  he  had  no  authority  be- \nyond the  range  of  his  batteries. \n\nBoston  was  his,  to  be  sure.     In    spite  of \n\n\nThe  Powder  Alarm  131 \n\nalarms  (for  once  the  field  day  of  the  Ancient \nand  Honorable  Artillery  Company,  the  pride \nof  the  province,  aroused  the  fleet;  and  once \nthe  little  navy  was  awake  all  night  against \nan  attack  that  never  came),  in  spite  of  such \nalarms,  no  attempt  was  made  upon  his  army \nor  his  ships.  The  town  was  quiet,  and  Tory \nladies  and  gentlemen  were  at  last  at  ease. \nOn  the  Mall  they  might  daily  watch  the \nparade  of  the  troops,  speak  their  minds  about \nthe  faction,  and  agree  upon  the  cowardice  of \nthe  provincials.  Yet  the  Whigs  of  Boston \nmade  no  submission.  They  were,  as  Warren \nwrote  of  them,  \"silent  and  inflexible.\"  At \nthe  same  time  they  had  everything  at  stake. \nTheir  leaders  Hancock  and  Warren  still  lived \nopenly  among  them,  in  the  face  of  the  threat \nof  arrest.  The  artisans,  too,  at  this  period \nput  behind  them  a  great  temptation.  For \nmany  months  they  had  been  idle ;  now \nwithin  a  few  weeks  the  governor  had  com- \nmenced building  barracks  for  the  troops,  upon \nwhich  Boston  workmen  were  engaged.  For \nthe  first  time  since  the  Port  Bill  went  into \n\n\n132  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\neffect  they  were  earning  a  comfortable  living. \nBut  now  they  refused  to  work  longer  for  the \nking.  In  vain  Gage  appealed  to  the  select- \nmen and  to  Hancock.  One  and  all  the \nartisans  withdrew,  to  subsist,  as  before,  upon \nthe  donations  that  still  continued  to  come  in \nfrom  the  other  towns  and  colonies. \n\nOutside  the  barrier  at  the  Neck  was  an \nunparalleled  state  of  affairs.  In  Massachu- \nsetts there  was  no  legal  government.  The \ncharter  had  been  abrogated,  but  the  new \nsystem  had  been  rejected  by  the  people. \nThere  were  no  judges  and  no  courts,  no \nsheriffs ;  there  was  no  treasury,  and  no  ma- \nchinery of  government  whatever.  Conse- \nquently there  was  a  striking  opportunity \nfor  lawlessness.  Yet  the  quiet  in  the  province \nwas  remarkable.  In  the  absence  of  execu- \ntive and  judicial  officers,  the  selectmen  of \nthe  towns  and  the  Committees  of  Correspond- \nence took  upon  themselves  the  work  that \nwas  to  be  done,  and  did  it  quietly  and  well. \nThere  was  no  thievery,  no  murder,  no  re- \npudiation of  debts.  So  far  as  their  ordinary \n\n\nThe  Powder  Alarm  133 \n\nlife  was   concerned,  the  people  simply  lived \non  in  their  ancient  way. \n\nThere  was,  nevertheless,  plenty  of  law- \nlessness of  the  new  kind.  Just  as  soon  as \nthe  people  could  catch  the  newly  appointed \nofficials,  they  forced  them  to  resign ;  and \nwhenever  the  courts  attempted  to  sit  they \nwere  made  to  adjourn.  There  continued  the \nlittle  migration  of  Tories  toward  Boston, \nalways  in  the  expectation  that  the  sojourn \nwas  to  be  brief,  and  that  presently  Gage \nwould  have  the  situation  in  hand.  Most \nof  the  refugees,  however,  never  saw  their \nhomes  again.  As  for  Gage,  he  was  sus- \npected of  detaining  the  remaining  councillors \nin  Boston,  lest  he  should  not  have  any  left \nto  him.  Indeed,  his  position  in  Salem  had \nalready  become  so  undignified  and  uncom- \nfortable that  early  in  September,  with  the \nCommissioners  of  Customs  and  all  other \nofficials,  he  returned  to  Boston.  There  he \nalso  withdrew  the  two  regiments  with  which \nhe  had  ineffectually  endeavored  to  sustain \nhis  prestige  in  Salem.  Yet  he  had  not  been \n\n\n134  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nlong  in  Boston  before  he  was  forced  to  watch \nthe  preparations  for  a  new  act  of  defiance. \n\nAlready,  unfortunately  for  him,  he  had \nconvened  the  Assembly  to  meet  at  Salem. \nNow  that  he  was  in  Boston  he  desired  the \nlegislators  to  meet  there  also;  yet  he  could \nnot  adjourn  them  until  they  met.  This  he \nplanned  to  do.  The  delegates,  however,  knew \nthat  if  they  came  to  Boston  they  must  take \ntheir  oaths  of  office  before  the  Mandamus \nCouncil.  To  this  the  representatives  would \nnever  submit,  and  accordingly  planned  an- \nother move.  Boston  carried  out  its  part \nunder  the  eye  of  the  governor.  The  town \nelected  its  representatives,  chief  among  whom \nwere  Hancock,  Warren,  and  the  absent  Sam- \nuel Adams.  The  meeting  then  deliberately, \nreminding  the  delegates  that  they  could \nnot  conscientiously  discharge  their  duty  under \nthe  conditions  which  the  governor  would \nimpose,  \"empowered  and  instructed\"  them \nto  join  with  the  delegates  from  other  towns \nin  a  general  provincial  congress,  to  act \nupon  public  matters  in  such  a  manner  as \n\n\nThe  Powder  Alarm  135 \n\nshould  appear  \"most  conducive  to  the  true \ninterest  of  this  town  and  province,  and  most \nlikely  to  preserve  the  liberties  of  all  America.\" \n\nThus  the  town  of  Boston,  inflexible  but \nno  longer  silent,  calmly  ignored  the  gov- \nernor and  his  troops.  A  strong  governor \nwould  have  imprisoned  the  delegates  and \ndissolved  the  meeting;  Gage  allowed  it  to \nproceed  for  the  rest  of  the  day  with  illegal \nbusiness,  and  did  nothing. \n\nIt  was  at  this  time  that  the  conduct  of \naffairs  fell  into  the  hands  of  Warren.  Adams \nwas  away  at  Philadelphia,  and  Hancock, \nthough  older  than  Warren  and  an  excellent \nfigurehead,  had  neither  Warren's  wisdom \nnor  his  fiery  energy.  It  was  Warren  who \ncorresponded  with  the  Congress  at  Phila- \ndelphia and  with  the  Committees  of  Corre- \nspondence of  the  Massachusetts  towns,  and \nit  was  to  him  that  the  province  naturally \nturned.  When  we  remember  him  as  the \nhero  of  Bunker  Hill,  it  is  well  also  to  recall \nhim  as  the  tried  servant  and  the  excellent \nadviser  of  the  public. \n\n\n136  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nOne  act  of  his  at  this  point  is  worth  re- \nmembering. As  we  have  seen,  Episcopalians \nwere  not  in  good  odor  with  the  Massachu- \nsetts Whigs ;  the  colony  had  been  founded  as \nan  asylum  from  \"prelacy,\"  and  still,  after \nnearly  two  hundred  and  fifty  years,  the  few \nmembers  of  the  English  church  were  chiefly \nsupporters  of  the  crown.  Warren  now  took \noccasion  to  remind  his  brethren  that  to  the \nsouth  conditions  were  different,  and  that \n\"the  gentlemen  of  the  Established  Church  of \nEngland  are  men  of  the  most  just  and  liberal \nsentiments.\"  In  a  printed  letter  he  requested \nfair  treatment  of  all  Episcopalians,  and  ended \nby  quoting  from  a  letter  of  Samuel  Adams \nan  account  of  the  Episcopal  chaplain  of \nthe  Philadelphia  Congress,  whose  first  prayer \nmoved  many  of  the  members  to  tears.  Al- \nthough this  chaplain  later  turned  his  coat, \nthe  reminder  was  timely  and  valuable,  for \nmany  southern  Whigs,  among  them  Wash- \nington himself,  were  members  of  the  Estab- \nlished Church. \n\nAs    to    the    proposed    provincial    congress, \n\n\nThe  Powder  Alarm  137 \n\nGage  now  hastened  to  forestall  the  conse- \nquences of  his  own  action.  He  declared \nthe  convening  of  the  Assembly  inexpedient, \nand  removed  the  obligation  to  attend.  Never- \ntheless ninety  of  the  delegates  came  together, \nwaited  a  day  for  the  governor,  then  formed \nthemselves  into  a  provincial  congress,  and \nadjourned.  On  the  nth  of  October  they \nmet  again  at  Concord,  this  time  with  nearly \ntwo  hundred  more  members,  and  in  the  old \nmeeting-house  began  their  sessions  with  Han- \ncock as  their  president,  but  with  Warren  as \nthe  most  influential  member  of  their  body. \n\nHis  influence  was  thrown  on  the  side  of \nmoderation.  There  were  plenty  in  the  prov- \nince ready  to  urge  violence.  They  argued \nthat  the  old  charter  should  be  resumed;  and \nas  if  the  present  acts  were  not  sufficiently \nrevolutionary,  were  ready  to  proceed  to  vio- \nlent measures.  But  the  time  had  not  yet \ncome.  Massachusetts  sentiment,  responding \nto  persecution,  was  far  in  advance  of  the \nfeelings  of  the  rest  of  the  country.  No \naction  could  safely  be  taken  until  the  other \n\n\n138  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\ncolonies  were  ready  to  support  New  England. \nIn  constant  touch  with  Samuel  Adams  — \nfor  Paul  Revere  and  other  trusted  couriers \nwere  always  on  the  road  with  letters  —  Warren \nwas  able  to  remind  his  colleagues  of  the  need \nof  patience,  and  to  cool  their  ardor  by  his \nwarnings  that  in  open  rebellion  they  would \nstand  alone.  His  services,  and  those  of  the \nsteadfast  band  who  supported  him,  were  in- \nvaluable. In  these  days  he  rose  to  the  full \nstature  of  political  leadership,  in  guiding  the \nactions  of  the  provincial  congress  and  in  con- \nstraining it  to  patience. \n\nAnd  yet  its  acts  were  revolutionary  enough. \nIt  must  be  remembered  that  until  this  time \nthe  Whigs  of  Massachusetts  had  remained \nwithin  their  constitutional  rights.  Apart \nfrom  the  Tea-Party,  no  word  or  act  of  town \nmeeting  or  of  legislature,  or  even  of  any \nprominent  citizen,  needed  for  justification \nanything  more  than  the  ancient  charter \nrights  of  the  province.  But  now  the  pro- \nvincial congress  went  beyond  anything  that \nhad  ever  been  done  before.  It  appointed  a \n\n\nThe  Powder  Alarm  139 \n\nCommittee  of  Safety,  which  should  prepare \nfor  equipping  and  raising  an  army.  It  ap- \npointed a  Committee  of  Supplies,  which \npresently  gathered  together  a  few  hundred \nspades  and  pickaxes,  some  muskets,  a  thousand \nwooden  mess-bowls,  four  thousand  flints, \nand  a  small  supply  of  peas  and  flour  —  a \npitiful  attempt  to  compete  with  the  vast \nresources  of  Great  Britain.  More  than  this, \nit  appointed  a  Receiver-General,  to  keep  the \npublic  money  of  the  province.  It  might  be \nargued  that  all  these  acts  were  still  within \nthe  charter  rights,  yet  the  Whig  position \nwas  no  longer  so  strong  as  on  the  occasions \nwhen  it  had  caused  the  crown  lawyers  to \ndoubt.  With  a  treasurer  engaged  in  receiv- \ning the  taxes  which  the  towns  willingly  paid \nhim,  and  with  generals  appointed  to  command \nan  army,  it  began  to  look  as  if  Massachu- \nsetts were  in  rebellion. \n\nGage  was  perplexed.  His  province  was \nout  of  his  control,  and  now  came  the  news \nthat  the  Continental  Congress,  before  ad- \njourning, had  voted  approval  of  the  course  of \n\n\n140  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nMassachusetts.  In  fact,  Congress  had  voted \nits  support.  \"Resolved,  that  this  congress \napprove  of  the  opposition  made  by  the  in- \nhabitants of  the  Massachusetts  Bay  to  the \nexecution  of  the  late  acts  of  Parliament; \nand,  if  the  same  shall  be  attempted  to  be \ncarried  into  execution  by  force,  in  such  case \nall  America  ought  to  support  them  in  their \nopposition.\"  With  such  words  in  his  mind, \nGage  had  to  listen  to  the  ringing  of  the \nchurch  bells  in  welcome  to  Samuel  Adams  as \nhe  returned  from  Philadelphia.  Adams  and \nGushing,  two  of  the  Boston  delegates,  now \ntook  their  seats  in  the  provincial  congress, \nand  the  remaining  two  delegates  were  in- \nvited to  attend.  The  public  acts  of  the \ncongress  continued  bold  and  uncompromis- \ning, and  every  little  while  there  came  to \nthe  harried  governor  some  public  letter  of \nremonstrance,  or  some  delegation  from  an \naggrieved  town  or  county  convention,  to \nobject,  to  expostulate,  or  to  demand.  Never \nwere  people  better  trained  to  politics  than \nthe  Americans  at  this  moment.  Gage  was \n\n\nThe  Powder  Alarm  141 \n\nquite  unfitted  to  cope  with  them.  Hutchinson \nwould  have  been  more  vigorous,  and  even \nBernard  more  clever.  The  king  fitly  charac- \nterized his  governor  as  \"the  mild  general.\" \n\nGage,  in  his  perplexity,  now  made  trouble \nby  suggesting  the  recruiting  of  Indians  against \nthe  day  of  rebellion,  and  called  for  more \ntroops  from  England.  The  disgusted  king \nsought  to  replace  him  as  commander-in- \nchief  by  the  one  English  soldier  whom  the \nAmericans  held  in  respect,  in  fact,  as  the \nhero  of  the  French  war,  almost  in  reverence. \nBut  Sir  Jeffrey  Amherst  bluntly  told  the \nking  that  he  would  not  serve  against  the \nAmericans,  \"to  whom  he  had  been  so  much \nobliged.\"  The  king  was  forced  to  content  him- \nself by  sending  to  Gage's  support  three  major- \ngenerals,  as  if  in  the  hope  that  their  divided \ncounsels  would  bring  about  a  uniform  policy. \n\nOf  these  three  men  America  was  to  hear \na  good  deal  in  the  next  seven  years.  The \nleast  important  of  them  was  Sir  Henry  Clin- \nton, of  respectable  military  skill.  More  strik- \ning in  character  was  Sir  John  Burgoyne,  poet, \n\n\n142  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\ndramatist,  parliamentarian,  upon  whom \nAmerica  will  ever  look  with  the  indulgence \nwhich  the  victor  feels  for  one  who  is  signally \nand  completely  defeated.  \"General  Big- \ntalk,\"  the  Yankee  balladist  called  him  when \nonce  the  siege  was  in  progress.  It  is  true \nthat  Burgoyne  had  an  easy  flow  of  words, \nand  we  shall  before  long  find  him  doing  his \nshare  to  make  Gage  ridiculous.  But  Bur- \ngoyne had  his  manly  parts,  and  though  he \nlacked  greatness,  he  commands  at  times  our \nsympathy  and  our  respect.  He  made  a \nromantic  marriage,  which  proved  a  happy \none ;  and  his  real  claim  to  literary  distinction \nlies  in  the  letter  in  which,  on  his  departure \nfor  America,  he  commended  his  wife  to  the \ncare  of  the  king.  Burgoyne,  in  a  still  brutal \nage,  was  a  humanitarian,  and  was  one  of  the \nfirst,  not  only  to  oppose  flogging  in  the  army, \nbut  also  to  advocate  friendly  personal  rela- \ntions between  officers  and  men.  America \nseldom  took  Burgoyne  seriously,  but  he  is  to \nus  of  to-day  a  pleasing  and  picturesque \ncharacter. \n\n\nThe  Powder  Alarm  143 \n\nThe  third  of  the  new  generals  was  Sir \nWilliam  Howe,  whose  chief  misfortune  was \nthat  fate  had  set  him  to  oppose  Washington. \nHe  came  of  a  family  well  known  in  American \nannals,  for  one  brother  was  now  an  admiral \npopular  in  the  colonies,  and  another  was  still \nmourned  in  America  for  his  brilliant  talents \nand  magnetic  personality.  William  Howe \nhad  gained  his  seat  in  Parliament  by  appeals \nto  the  memory  of  that  brother,  and  by \npromises  to  take  no  active  military  command \nagainst  America.  But  on  being  offered  the \npost  under  Gage,  Howe  asked  if  this  were  a \nrequest  or  an  order.  The  adroit  king  re- \nturned the  proper  answer,  and  Howe,  protest- \ning that  no  other  course  was  open  to  him, \nprepared  to  sail  for  Boston. \n\nMeanwhile  Gage,  alone,  made  various  futile \nmoves,  at  which  the  province  looked  with \npatience.  From  time  to  time  his  troops \nmarched  a  few  miles  into  the  country,  and \nreturned  again.  In  January  he  sent  a  de- \ntachment to  Marshfield,  to  occupy  the  village \nso  that  the  loyal  residents  might  drink  their \n\n\n144  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\ntea  in  peace.  It  was  a  comfort  to  him  to \nthink  that  there  was  one  town  in  the  province \nin  which  a  militia  company  was  drilling  for \nhis  support,  and  with  the  king's  muskets.  A \nmonth  later  Gage  sent  troops  to  Salem,  in \norder  to  seize  some  cannon ;  but  the  com- \nmander, finding  the  country  in  arms  to \nreceive  him,  wisely  withdrew  his  little  force \nafter  —  to  use  a  term  yet  to  be  invented  — \n\"saving  his  face\"  by  crossing  a  bridge  under \npromise  of  immediate  return. \n\nThe  Reverend  Jonas  Clark,  speaking  of \nthis  event,  adds  an  indignant  note  to  an \nequally  indignant  sermon.1  \"This  unsuccess- \nful expedition  was  made  on  LORD'S  day, \nFeb.  26,  1775.  The  party  consisted  of  200 \nor  300  men ;  it  was  commanded  by  Lieut. \nCol.  Leslie.  The  vessels  which  brought  them \nto  Marblehead,  arrived  in  the  harbour,  on  the \nmorning  of  the  sabbath;  and  the  better  to \nconceal  their  intentions,  lay  quietly,  at  anchor, \nnear  to  the  wharves,  with  but  very  few  hands \nupon  deck  (the  troops  being  kept  close)  'till \n\n1 A  Sermon  preached  at  Lexington,  April  19, 1776,  26. \n\n\n* \n\n\nThe  Powder  Alarm \n\n\nthe  people  of  the  town  were  assembled  for \nthe  services  of  religion.  —  While  the  inhabit- \nants were  thus  engaged  in  their  devotions  to \nGOD,  the  party  landed  and  made  a  speedy \nmarch  to  Salem.  But  all  their  precaution \ndid  not  avail  them  for  the  accomplishment  of \ntheir  enterprize.  The  eagle-eyes  of  a  watch- \nful and  wary  people,  justly  jealous  of  every \nmeasure  of  their  oppressors,  are  not  easily \nevaded.  Their  motions  were  observed,  and \nsuch  timely  notice  given,  that  such  numbers \nwere  collected  and  such  measures  taken, \nbefore  they  arrived,  as  effectually  frustrated \ntheir  design  and  obliged  them  to  return  de- \nfeated and  chagrined.\" \n\nSo,  throughout  the  winter,  the  garrison  and  its \ngovernor  accomplished  nothing  —  or  less  than \nnothing,  if  one  considers  that  Gage  proved  to  the \nprovincials  the  weakness  of  his  character,  while \nat  the  same  time  he  angered  them  by  issuing, \nwhen  the  provincial  congress  appointed  a  day \nof  prayer,  a  proclamation  against  hypocrisy. \n\nAs  the  winter  passed  there  was  at  times \nhope  that  the  political  situation  might  be \n\n\n146  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nrelieved  by  action  of  Parliament.  Yet  though \nthe  worst  House  of  Commons  in  history  had \nbeen  dissolved,  the  one  which  took  its  place \nwas,  at  its  beginning,  little  better.  It  learned \nwisdom  only  from  the  events  of  the  war. \nTo  this  Parliament  Chatham  and  Burke  now \nappealed  in  vain ;  even  Fox,  at  last  definitely \ntaking  his  stand  with  the  supporters  of \nAmerica,  could  not  move  it  from  its  sub- \nservience to  the  king.  When  finally  a  bill \nwas  introduced  to  deprive  America  of  its \nfisheries,  it  began  to  seem  that  legislative \noppression  could  go  no  further. \n\nAnd  now  to  other  Americans  than  Samuel \nAdams  it  became  evident  that  there  was  no \nhope  of  concession  from  England.  The  second \nprovincial  congress  began  its  sittings.  War- \nren was  still  on  the  Committee  of  Safety. \nPreble,  Ward,  and  Pomeroy  were  reappointed \ngenerals,  and  to  them  were  added  Thomas \nand  Heath.  Supplies  were  voted  for  an  army \nof  fifteen  thousand.  There  was  still  hope  of \nconciliation,  but,  wrote  Warren,  \"every  day, \nevery  hour,  widens  the  breach.\" \n\n\nThe  Powder  Alarm  147 \n\nThe  town  of  Boston  knew  how  wide  the \nbreach  was,  and  how  different  the  points  of \nview.  The  letters  and  diaries  of  the  time \nshow  the  constant  little  irritations  which  ex- \nasperated both  sides.  In  those  days,  if  the \nBritish  soldier  was  not  so  sober  as  now,  the \nBritish  officer  was  far  more  given  to  drink. \nFrom  \"the  Erskine  incident\"  until  almost \nthe  outbreak  of  hostilities,  drunken  officers \nmade  trouble  with  the  inhabitants,  and  found \nthem  less  submissive  than  the  average  British \ncitizen.  Yankee  burghers  had  an  uncom- \nfortable trick  of  arming  themselves  with \ncudgels  and  returning  to  the  attack ;  the \nwatch  occasionally  locked  up  Lieutenant  This \nand  Ensign  That ;  and  more  dignified  ckizens, \ndisdaining  personal  conflict,  brought  their \ncomplaints  to  the  general,  thus  adding  to  his \ntroubles.  John  Andrews  tells  the  story  of \nthe  school  boys  who,  in  the  phrase  of  the \nday,  \"improv'd\"  the  coast  on  School  Street. \n\"General  Haldiman,  improving  the  house \nthat  belongs  to  Old  Cook,  his  servant  took  it \nupon  him  to  cut  up  their  coast  and  fling \n\n\n148  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nashes  upon  it.  The  lads  made  a  muster,  and \nchose  a  committee  to  wait  upon  the  General, \nwho  admitted  them,  and  heard  their  complaint, \nwhich  was  couch'd  in  very  genteel  terms,  com- \nplaining that  their  fathers  before  'em  had  im- \nprov'd  it  as  a  coast  from  time  immemorial,  &ca. \nHe  ordered  his  servant  to  repair  the  damage, \nand  acquainted  the  Governor  with  the  affair, \nwho  observ'd  that  it  was  impossible  to  beat \nthe  notion  of  Liberty  out  of  the  people,  as  it \nwas  rooted  in  'em from  their  Childhood\" \n\nGage  did  his  best  to  be  fair  to  the  inhabit- \nants, and  they  acknowledged  his  endeavor. \nBut  the  officers,  less  experienced  than  he \nand  with  fewer  responsibilities,  and  also  less \nacquainted  with  the  spirit  of  the  colonists, \nwere  angry  with  him  for  what  they  called  his \nsubservience.  They  dubbed  him  Tommy,  and \nconfided  their  indignation  to  their  diaries. \n\"Yesterday,\"  wrote  Lieutenant  Barker  of  the \nKing's  Own,1  \"in  compliance  with  the  request \n\n1  His  diary  is  published  in  the  Atlantic  Monthly  for \nApril  and  May,  1877,  384  and  544.  I  shall  use  it  freely \nwithout  further  definite  reference. \n\n\nThe  Powder  Alarm  149 \n\nof  the  Select  Men,  Genl  Gage  order'd  that \nno  Soldier  in  future  shou'd  appear  in  the \nStreets  with  his  side  Arms.  Query,  Is  this \nnot  encouraging  the  Inhabitants  in  their \nlicentious  and  riotous  disposition  ?  Also \norders  are  issued  for  the  Guards  to  seize  all \nmilitary  Men  found  engaged  in  any  disturb- \nance, whether  Agressors  or  not ;  and  to  secure \nthem,  'till  the  matter  is  enquired  into.  By \nWhom  ?  By  Villains  that  wou'd  not  censure  one \nof  their  own  Vagrants,  even  if  He  attempted \nthe  life  of  a  Soldier ;  whereas  if  a  Soldier \nerrs  in  the  least,  who  is  more  ready  to  accuse \nthan  Tommy  ?  His  negligence  on  the  other \nhand  has  been  too  conspicuous  in  the  affair  of \nCn.  Maginis  to  require  a  further  comment.\" \n\nDoubtless  there  is  much  to  be  said  for  the \nsoldiers,  both  officers  and  privates,  since  the \nBostonians  had  not  abandoned  their  irritating \nways,  even  in  the  midst  of  an  army.  But  the \narmy  was  also  very  hard  to  live  with.  On \nthe  first  of  January  our  discontented  officer \nrecords,  \"Nothing  remarkable  but  the  drunk- \nenness among  the  Soldiers,  which  is  now  got \n\n\n150  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nto  a  very  great  pitch ;  owing  to  the  cheap- \nness of  the  liquor,  a  Man  may  get  drunk  for \na  Copper  or  two.\"  The  officers,  we  have  seen, \ndid  not  set  their  men  a  very  good  example ; \nbut  even  in  their  sober  senses  they  were \nscarcely  conciliatory.  They  formed  burlesque \ncongresses,  and  marched  in  mock  procession \nin  the  streets,  absurdly  dressed  to  represent \nthe  leaders  of  the  Whigs.  On  the  queen's \nbirthday  a  banquet  was  held,  and  from  the \nbalcony  of  the  tavern  the  toasts  were  an- \nnounced, while  in  the  street  a  squad  of  sol- \ndiers fired  salutes.  Toasts  to  Lord  North \nwere  not  relished  in  Boston,  and  reminders \nof  Culloden  were  too  significant  for  those \nwhom  the  army  already  called  rebels.  It  is \nan  interesting  proof  of  the  weakness  of  Gage's \nhold  upon  his  own  army  that  such  childish- \nness should  have  been  permitted,  or  that \nsuch  threats  should  have  been  made  to  a \ntown  that  still  was  within  its  legal  rights. \n\nBeneath  these  petty  quarrels  we  perceive \nthe  fundamental  differences.  Over  these  the \nmore  learned  of  both  sides  carried  on  a  war \n\n\nThe  Powder  Alarm  151 \n\nof  words.  The  newspapers  teemed  with  let- \nters, poems,  essays,  and  dissertations ;  and \nNovanglus,  Massachusettensis,  Vindex,  and \nother  pseudo-Romans  endeavored  to  convert \neach  other,  or  else  to  point  solemn  warnings. \n\"Remember,\"  writes  a  yeoman  of  Suffolk \nCounty,  \"the  fate  of  Wat  Tyler,  and  think \nhow  vain  it  is  for  Jack,  Sam,  or  Will  to  war \nagainst  Great  Britain,  now  she  is  in  earnest ! \n.  .  .  Our  leaders  are  desperate  bankrupts  ! \nOur  country  is  without  money,  stores,  or  neces- \nsaries of  war,  —  without  one  place  of  refuge \nor  defence  !  If  we  were  called  together,  we \nshould  be  a  confused  herd,  without  any  dis- \nposition to  obedience,  without  a  general  of \nability  to  direct  and  guide  us ;  and  our  num- \nbers would  be  our  destruction  !  Never  did  a \npeople  rebel  with  so  little  reason;  therefore \nour  conduct  cannot  be  justified  before  God  ! \n.  .  .  Rouse,  rouse  ye,  Massachusetians, \nwhile  it  be  yet  time  !  Ask  pardon  of  God, \nsubmit  to  our  king  and  parliament,  .whom  we \nhave  wickedly  and  grievously  offended.\"  1 \n\n1  Frothingham's  \"Life  of  Warren,\"  413. \n\n\n152  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nThis  exclamatory  appeal  plainly  shows  a \ntype  of  mind  which  often  has  saved  the \nBritish  Empire,  yet  which  at  periods  in  his- \ntory has  come  near  to  ruining  it.  English \nconservatism  has  at  most  times  been  invaluable \nto  the  country ;  but  when,  as  repeatedly \nunder  the  Stuart  kings  and  again  under \nGeorge  III,  it  has  forsaken  its  true  task  in \norder  to  support  absolutism,  it  has  brought \nthe  ship  of  state  very  near  to  wreck.  In \nreminding  of  the  fate  of  Wat  Tyler  our  Suf- \nfolk yeoman  forgot,  if  indeed  he  ever  knew, \nthe  fate  of  Charles  and  James  Stuart.  The \nmajority  of  Englishmen  have  never  been  will- \ning to  admit  that  in  defending  their  consti- \ntutional rights  they  were  guilty  of  impiety. \nThough  such  warnings  and  appeals  were  at \nthis  time  frequent  enough,  the  Whigs  paid \nno  regard  to  them. \n\nWhen  we  leave  the  Tories  and  turn  to  the \nsoldiery  we  find  one  other  common  English \nfailing  —  underrating  an  adversary.  Eng- \nland had  so  long  been  victorious  on  land  and \nsea  that  it  was  almost  a  natural  assumption \n\n\nThe  Powder  Alarm  153 \n\nthat  she  was  superior  to  any  force  that  could \nbe  brought  against  her.  But  that  she  was \nalways  right,  or  her  opponents  always  cowards, \nwere  corollaries  that  did  not  necessarily  fol- \nlow. Yet  both  of  these  were  implicitly  believed, \nnot  only  by  supporters  at  home,  but  also  by \nthe  army  in  America.  As  to  Yankee  coward- \nice, many  a  Tory  could,  and  later  did,  warn \nthe  troops  against  belief  in  it.  But  now,  at \nany  rate,  the  belief  was  fully  indulged.  From \nit  was  an  easy  step  to  general  contempt. \nRascal  and  Scoundrel  were  common  synonyms \nfor  Whig.  Lord  Percy  was  a  brigadier-gen- \neral and  old  enough  to  form  his  own  con- \nclusions, yet  after  living  in  the  camp  at \nBoston  for  a  month,  he  gives  us  a  complete \nanalysis  of  the  American  character — the  sum- \nmary, no  doubt,  of  British  military  opinion. \n\"The  People  here,\"  he  wrote  home,  \"are  the \nmost  designing,  Artfull  Villains  in  the  World. \nThey  have  not  the  least  Idea  of  either  Re- \nligion or  Morality.  Nor  have  they  the  least \nScruple  of  taking  the  most  solemn  Oath  on \nany  Matter  that  can  assist  their  Purpose, \n\n\n154  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\ntho'  they  know  the  direct  contrary  can  be \nclearly  &  evidently  proved  in  half  an  Hour.\"  l \n\nWe  see,  then,  the  situation  fully  prepared : \nan  inflexible  people,  a  weak  governor,  a \nparty  of  belivers  in  divine  right,  and  a  con- \ntemptuous soldiery.  The  next  event,  which \nall  but  ended  in  violence,  showed  that  there \nneeded  but  a  little  tenser  situation  in  order \nto  bring  about  the  rupture. \n\nNow  occurred  the  annual  oration  on  the \nMassacre.  Since  that  tragedy,  five  years  ago, \nthere  had  been  an  annual  commemoration \nof  it  in  the  form  of  a  speech  by  one  of  the \nWhig  leaders.  This  year  the  post  was  one \nof  evident  responsibility  and  even  of  danger, \nbut  Warren,  true  to  his  character,  solicited \nthe  appointment.  He  announced  his  sub- \nject as  \"  The  Baleful  Influence  of  Standing \nArmies  in  Time  of  Peace.\"  On  the  fifth \nof  March  the  crowd  that  came  to  hear  him \nfilled  the  Old  South  to  the  doors. \n\nThe  chance  was  one  which,  had  Gage  re- \nceived the  orders  which  were  supposed  to \n\n1  Bulletin  of  Boston  Public  Library,  x,  No.  87,  320. \n\n\nThe  Powder  Alarm  155 \n\nhave  been  sent  him,  and  had  he  been  the  man \nhe  ought  to  have  been,  he  never  should  have \nlet  slip.  There  in  one  building  were,  of  the \nchiefs  of  the  \"faction,\"  Warren,  Samuel \nAdams,  Hancock,  and  many  lesser  men. \nThey  could  be  taken  at  one  blow.  Some \nforty  British  officers  were  present,  whether \nto  effect  a  capture  or  merely  to  cause  a  dis- \nturbance was  not  known.  At  Samuel  Adams' \ninstance  they  were  given  front  seats,  or  places \non  the  steps  of  the  pulpit.  There  they  lis- \ntened quietly  to  Warren's  words. \n\nThe  oration  was,  in  the  style  of  the  day, \nflorid ;  but  it  was  full  of  genuine  feeling. \nWarren  spoke  of  the  rise  of  the  British  Em- \npire in  America,  the  hope  of  its  future,  the \npolicy  of  the  king,  and  the  Massacre.  Turning \nthen  to  the  present  situation,  he  spoke  in  words \nwhich  no  one  could  mistake,  bolder,  perhaps, \nthan  ever  before  had  been  publicly  spoken  in \nthe  presence  of  hostile  soldiers.  He  reminded \nhis  countrymen  of  their  martial  achievements, \nhe  spoke  of  the  critical  situation,  and, \nwhile  disclaiming  the  desire  for  independence, \n\n\n156  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nencouraged  the  colonists  to  claim  their  rights. \n\"An  independence  of  Great  Britain  is  not \nour  aim.  No :  our  wish  is,  that  Britain  and \nthe  colonies  may,  like  the  oak  and  ivy, \ngrow  and  increase  in  strength  together.  But, \nwhilst  the  infatuated  plan  of  making  one \npart  of  the  empire  slaves  to  the  other  is  per- \nsisted in,  the  interest  and  safety  of  Britain \nas  well  as  the  colonies  require  that  the  wise \nmeasures  recommended  by  the  honorable, \nthe  Continental  Congress  be  steadily  pursued, \nwhereby  the  unnatural  contest  between  a \nparent  honored  and  a  child  beloved  may \nprobably  be  brought  to  such  an  issue  that  the \npeace  and  happiness  of  both  may  be  estab- \nlished upon  a  lasting  basis.  But,  if  these  pacific \nmeasures  are  ineffectual,  and  it  appears  the  only \nway  to  safety  lies  through  fields  of  blood,  I \nknow  you  will  not  turn  your  faces  from  our \nfoes,  but  will  undauntedly  press  forward  until \ntyranny  is  trodden  under  foot,  and  you  have \nfixed  your  adored  goddess,  Liberty,  fast  by  a \nBrunswick's  side,  on  the  American  throne.\"1 \n\n1  Frothingham's  \"  Life  of  Warren,\"  435-436. \n\n\nThe  Powder  Alarm  157 \n\nThese  were  fearless  words,  and  full  of  mean- \ning. Had  there  been  men  of  sense  among \nthe  officers  present,  they  must  have  been \nimpressed  by  the  solemnity  of  the  warning; \nin  fact,  they  were  silent  until  the  end.  It \nwas  not  until  after  the  oration,  when  the \nmeeting  was  voting  thanks  to  the  orator, \nthat  the  officers  endeavored  to  interrupt \nthe  proceedings.  The  cry  of  Fie !  was  mis- \ntaken for  that  of  Fire,  and  there  was  a \nmoment's  panic.  We  have  opposing  accounts \nof  it. \n\n\"It  was  imagined,\"  wrote  our  discontented \nLieutenant  of  the  King's  Own,  \"that  there \nwou'd  have  been  a  riot,  which  if  there  had \nwou'd  in  all  probability  have  proved  fatal \nto  Hancock,  Adams,  Warren,  and  the  rest \nof  those  Villains,  as  they  were  all  up  in  the \nPulpit  together,  and  the  meeting  was  crowded \nwith  Officers  and  Seamen  in  such  a  manner \nthat  they  cou'd  not  have  escaped;  however \nit  luckily  did  not  turn  out  so ;  it  wou'd  indeed \nhave  been  a  pity  for  them  to  have  made \ntheir  exit  in  that  way,  as  I  hope  before  long \n\n\n158  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nwe  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  them \ndo  it  by  the  hands  of  the  Hangman.\" \n\nJohn  Andrews  looked  at  the  matter  dif- \nferently. \"  The  officers  in  general  behave \nmore  like  a  parcel  of  children,  of  late,  than \n\nmen.  Captain  of  the  Royal  Irish  first \n\nexposed  himself  by  behaving  in  a  very  scan- \ndalous manner  at  the  South  meeting.  .  .  . \nHe  got  pretty  decently  frighted  for  it.  A \nwoman,  among  the  rest,  attacked  him  and \nthreatened  to  wring  his  nose.\"  An  outbreak \nmay  have  been  what  the  officers  wanted. \n\"But,\"  says  Samuel  Adams,  who  acted  on  his \nmaxim  that  it  is  good  politics  to  put  and \nkeep  the  enemy  in  the  wrong,  \"order  was \nrestored,  and  we  proceeded  regularly,  and \nfinished  the  business.  I  am  persuaded,  were \nit  not  for  the  danger  of  precipitating  a  crisis, \nnot  a  man  of  them  would  have  been  spared.\" 1 \n\nThe  whole  was  a  type  of  the  existing  situ- \nation. Here  were  the  officers,  still  causing \npetty  disturbances ;  here  too,  no  doubt,  were \nTories,  contemptuous  of  the  proceedings. \n\n1  Wells,  \"Life  of  Adams,\"  ii,  281. \n\n\nThe  Powder  Alarm  159 \n\nDeeper  still  appears  the  real  significance  of \nthe  occasion.  On  the  one  side  was  the  gov- \nernor, unable,  with  all  the  power  of  the  king, \nto  prevent  a  meeting  of  the  citizens  to  con- \ndemn his  presence  in  the  town  —  for  the \nmeeting  was  the  \"Port  Bill  meeting,\"  ad- \njourned from  time  to  time  since  the  previous \nMay.  And  on  the  other  side  were  the  citi- \nzens, legally  protesting  and  exasperatingly \ndefiant,  evidently  under  perfect  self-restraint, \ndetermined  not  to  strike  the  first  blow. \n\nThe  officers  took,  as  usual,  a  puerile  revenge \nin  the  form  of  a  burlesque.  \" A  vast  number\" \nof  them  assembled  at  the  Coffee  House  in \nKing  Street,  and  chose  selectmen  and  an \norator,  \"who  deliver'd  an  oration  from  the \nbalcony  to  a  crowd  of  few  else  beside  gaping \nofficers.\" *  Others  of  them  caught  a  country- \nman who  had  been  decoyed  into  buying  a \nmusket  from  a  soldier,  and  tarred  and  feath- \nered him. \n\nBut  these  were  surface  trivialities.  Be- \nneath them  the  true  situation  was  grow- \n\n1  Andrews  Letters. \n\n\n160  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\ning  worse.  Out  in  the  country  military \nstores  were  being  collected  at  Worcester  and \nat  Concord ;  and  over  in  Parliament  the \nfisheries  bill,  designed  to  deprive  thousands \nin  America  of  their  living,  was  sure  of  pass- \ning. At  last  Franklin,  who  had  stayed  in \nLondon  as  long  as  there  seemed  anything \nfor  him  to  accomplish,  patiently  bearing  hu- \nmiliation and  insults,  on  the  2Oth  of  March \ntook  ship  for  Philadelphia.  It  was  the  sign \nthat  there  was  no  further  hope  of  peace. \n\n\nCHAPTER  VII \n\nMILITARY  PREPARATIONS \n\nAS  the  spring  of  1775  advanced,  matters \ntook  on  a  constantly  more  threatening \naspect.  The  governor's  force  in  Bos- \nton was  steadily  increasing,  and  was  approach- \ning a  total  of  four  thousand  men.  Vessels  of \nwar  were  with  equal  steadiness  being  added  to \nthe  little  fleet  in  the  harbor.  With  each  bud- \nget of  news  from  England  it  became  evident \nthat  Parliament  would  not  yield,  and  at  last \ncame  word  that  Lord  North  had  offered  a  joint \nresolution  that  New  England  was  in  a  state \nof  rebellion,  which  both  houses  pledged  their \nlives  and  fortunes  to  suppress.  With  such \na  military  force  at  his  command,  and  with \nsuch  moral  support  from  King  and  Parlia- \nment, Gage  was  in  a  position  to  take  de- \ncided action. \n\nNo  one  could  doubt  what  that  action  would \n\nM  161 \n\n\n162  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nbe.  Since  September  the  province  had  been \ngathering  its  meagre  military  supplies.  It \nwas  but  common  sense  to  seize  them  be- \nfore they  could  be  used.  Soon  after  the \nnew  year  Gage  began  his  measures.  \"Genl. \nOrders,\"  writes  disgruntled  Lieutenant  Barker. \n\"If  any  officers  of  the  different  Regts.  are \ncapable  of  taking  sketches  of  a  Country, \nthey  will  send  their  names  to  the  Dep.  Adj. \nGenl.  .  .  .  that  is  an  extraordinary  method \nof  wording  the  order ;  it  might  at  least  have \nbeen  in  a  more  genteel  way ;  at  present  it \nlooks  as  if  he  doubted  whether  there  were \nany  such.\"  However,  there  were  such,  and \nin  February  the  governor  chose  Captain \nBrown  and  Ensign  De  Berniere  (or  Bernicre, \nas  the  name  is  sometimes  spelled)  and  sent \nthem  out  to  map  the  roads. \n\nThe  little  expedition  was  somewhat  absurd, \nfor  the  disguise  which  the  officers  wore  was \nsufficient  to  conceal  them  only  from  their \nfriends.  When,  at  the  first  tavern  at  which \nthey  stopped,  they  remarked  that  it  was  a \nvery  fine  country,  the  black  woman  who \n\n\nMilitary  Preparations  163 \n\nwaited  on  them  answered,  \"So  it  is,  and  we \nhave  got  brave  fellows  to  defend  it,  and  if  you \ngo  any  higher  you  will  find  it  so.\"  \"This,\" \nadmits  Ensign  De  Berniere,  whose  account \nof  the  expedition  was  left  in  Boston  at  the \nevacuation,  and  was  \"printed  for  the  in- \nformation and  amusement  of  the  curious,\" \n\"this  disconcerted  us  a  good  deal.\"  From \nthat  time  on,  any  one  who  took  the  trouble \nto  \"eye  them  attentively\"  was  in  no  doubt \nas  to  their  real  character. \n\nThey  went  first  to  Worcester,  where  it  was \npossible  that  the  governor  might  wish  to \nsend  troops,  to  protect  the  courts  as  well  as \nto  seize  stores.  The  weather  was  rough  and \nsnowy,  and  the  officers'  task  correspondingly \ndifficult ;  the  countrymen,  by  persevering  so- \nciability, kept  them  in  an  uneasy  state  of  mind. \nAfter  roughly  mapping  roads  concerning  which \nthe  general  should  long  before  have  had  ac- \ncurate information,  the  two  officers  made  their \nway  to  Sudbury,  where  they  hoped  to  rest  with \na  sympathizer,  after  walking  in  a  snow-storm \nfor  hours.  But  the  town  doctor,  though  long \n\n\n164  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\na  stranger  at  the  house,  came  to  call,  and  the \ntownspeople  showed  their  host  various  other \nundesirable  attentions,  so  that  in  twenty \nminutes  the  two  officers  were  glad  to  leave \nthe  place.  They  arrived  again  safely  at \nWorcester,  \"very  much  fatigued,  after  walk- \ning thirty-two  miles  between  two  o'clock  and \nhalf-after  ten  at  night,  through  a  road  that \nevery  step  we  sunk  up  to  the  ankles,  and  it \nblowing  and  drifting  snow  all  the  way.\" \n\nIn  spite  of  this  experience,  the  two  officers, \na  month  later,  undertook  a  similar  journey \nto  Concord.  In  this  they  succeeded,  return- \ning with  a  rough  sketch  of  the  roads,  but \nbringing  also  their  Concord  host,  who  did \nnot  think  it  safe  to  remain  after  entertaining \nthem.  They  brought  information  that  in \nConcord  there  were  \"fourteen  cannon  (ten \niron  and  four  brass)  and  two  cohorns,\"  with \n\"a  store  of  flour,  fish,  salt,  and  rice;  and  a \nmagazine  of  powder  and  cartridges.\" \n\nThey  might,  in  their  two  journeys,  have \nbrought  better  information  than  that  the \nConcord  Whigs  \"fired  their  morning  gun, \n\n\nMilitary  Preparations  165 \n\nand  mounted  a  guard  of  ten  men  at  night.\" \nThe  stores  at  Concord  had  far  better  pro- \ntection than  these,  as  the  two  officers  should \nhave  learned  at  Framingham,  where  they \nwatched  the  drill  of  the  militia  company. \n\"After  they  had  done  their  exercise,  one  of \ntheir  commanders  spoke  a  very  eloquent \nspeech,  recommending  patience,  coolness,  and \nbravery  (which  indeed  they  very  much \nwanted),  particularly  told  them  they  would \nalways  conquer  if  they  did  not  break,  and \nrecommended  them  to  charge  us  coolly,  and \nwait  for  our  fire,  and  everything  would  succeed \nwith  them  —  quoted  Caesar  and  Pompey, \nbrigadiers  Putnam  and  Ward,  and  all  such \ngreat  men ;  put  them  in  mind  of  Cape  Breton, \nand  all  the  battles  they  had  gained  for  his \nmajesty  in  the  last  war,  and  observed  that \nthe  regulars  must  have  been  ruined  but  for \nthem.\" \n\nHad  the  two  officers  known  it,  every  town \nin  the  province  had  just  such  a  militia  com- \npany, which  at  set  seasons  met,  and  drilled, \nand  listened  to  good  old-fashioned  exhorta- \n\n\n166  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\ntions  to  valor.  It  would  not  take  long, \ntherefore,  for  the  neighboring  towns  to  send \ntheir  companies  to  reinforce  the  guard  of  ten \nmen  which  Concord  set  over  its  stores  every \nnight.  And  yet  the  province  was  not  satis- \nfied with  this  ancient  militia  organization, \nfor  it  had  set  up  another  to  strengthen  it. \n\nThe  militia  was  composed,  as  it  had  been \nsince  the  foundation  of  the  colony,  of  the \nwhole  body  of  male  inhabitants  of  proper \nmilitary  age.  In  some  cases  even  clergymen \ndrilled  in  the  ranks.  More  than  once  this \nmilitia  had  gathered  to  repel  an  expected \nattack  of  French  or  Indians ;  it  had  stood \nbetween  the  settlers  and  their  foes  from  the \ndays  of  Miles  Standish  down  to  the  French \nand  Indian  War.  The  martial  spirit  still  pre- \nvailed among  the  youth  of  the  colony,  and \neach  town  took  pride  in  its  company.  In \n1774  John  Andrews  thus  records  his  innocent \ndelight  in  the  appearance  of  the  Boston \ntrainbands  :  — \n\n\"Am  almost  every  minute  taken  off  with \nagreeable  sight  of  our  militia  companies \n\n\nMilitary  Preparations  167 \n\nmarching  into  the  Common,  as  it  is  a  grand \nfield  day  with  us.  ...  They  now  vie  with \nthe  best  troops  in  his  majesties  service,  being \ndress'd  all  in  blue  uniforms,  with  drums  and \nfifes  to  each  company  dress'd  in  white  uni- \nforms trim'd  in  y?  most  elegant  manner; \nwith  a  company  of  Grenadiers  in  red  with \nevery  other  apparatus,  that  equal  any  regu- \nlar company  I  ever  saw  both  in  appearance \nand  discipline,  having  a  grand  band  of  musick \nconsisting  of  eight  that  play  nearly  equal  to \nthat  of  the  64th.  What  crowns  all  is  the \nCadet  company,  being  perfectly  compleat \nand  under  the  best  order  you  can  conceive  of, \nwith  a  band  of  musick  likewise,  that  perform \nadmirably  well.  What  with  these  and  Pad- \ndock's company  of  artillery  make  yf  com- \npletest  militia  in  America ;  not  a  drummer, \nfifer,  and  scarcely  a  soldier  but  what  are  in \ncompleat  uniforms  and  thoroughly  instructed \nin  the  military  exercises.\" \n\nIt  was  this  Boston  Cadet  company  that, \nat  the  affront  to  its  leader  Hancock  had  re- \nturned its  standard  to  the  governor  and  dis- \n\n\n1 68  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nbanded.  Gage  knew  too  well  that  others  of \nthe  companies  were  thoroughly  disaffected. \nIn  fact,  many  of  the  Boston  young  men  left \nthe  town  before  hostilities  began,  and  were \nready  to  join  with  their  country  brethren  in \nshowing  that  their  military  training  was  worth \nsomething. \n\nYet  early  in  the  fall  it  was  recognized  in \nthe  colony  that  the  militia  system  was  not \nsufficient,  being  too  slow  of  movement  to \nmeet  any  such  sudden  expedition  as  that \nwhich  Gage  sent  to  seize  the  powder.  It  is \nnot  surprising,  therefore,  to  find  John  Andrews \nreporting  on  October  5  the  existence  of  a \nnew  body  of  troops,  \"which  are  calPd  minute \nmen,  i.e.  to  be  ready  at  a  minute's  warning \nwith  a  fortnight's  provision,  and  ammunition \nand  arms.\"  There  is  doubt  of  the  origin  of \nthis  body,  but  it  was  first  officially  accepted \nin  Concord,  where  the  town  adopted  definite \nterms  of  enlistment,  the  more  important  of \nwhich  reads  :  — \n\n\"We  will  ...  to  the  utmost  of  our  power \nand  abilities,  defend  all  and  every  of  our \n\n\nMilitary  Preparations  169 \n\ncharter  rights,  liberties,  and  privileges ;  and \nwill  hold  ourselves  in  readiness  at  a  minute's \nwarning,  with  arms  and  ammunition  thus  to \ndo.\"  1 \n\nTradition  says  that  the  terms  of  the  en- \nlistment were  interpreted  literally,  and  that \nwherever  the  minute  men  went,  to  the  field, \nthe  shop,  or  to  church,  gun  and  powder-horn \nand  bullet-pouch  were  ready  to  hand.  It  is \nscarcely  an  exaggeration  to  suppose  that,  as \nrepresented  by  French's  statue,  the  farmers \nactually  left  the  plough  in  the  furrow  and \nsnatched  up  the  ready  rifle. \n\nOne  further  preparation  was  also  made. \nThe  rallying  point  was  possibly  Worcester, \nwhere  were  the  courts  and  some  few  stores ; \nbut  it  was  more  probably  Concord.  The \nshortest  route  to  Concord,  or  to  the  road \nbetween  Concord  and  Boston,  was  known  to \nthe  captain  of  every  company  of  minute  men \nwithin  a  hundred  miles.  But  that  the  cap- \ntains should  be  notified  of  any  emergency  was \nessential.  A  complete  system  of  couriers  for \n\n1  Tolman,  \"The  Concord  Minute  Man,\"  12. \n\n\n170  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nspreading  news  was  projected  in  September, \nand  now  was  in  good  working  order,  so  that, \nwith  Boston  as  a  radiating  point,  the  sum- \nmons could  be  sent  over  the  province  with \nthe  greatest  rapidity.  By  virtue  of  his  effi- \nciency, trustworthiness,  and  picturesque  per- \nsonality, Paul  Revere  is  accepted  as  the  type \nof  the  men  who  stood  ready  for  this  service. \n\nThis  system,  further,  had  been  tested. \nThe  spontaneous  response  to  the  Powder \nAlarm  in  September  had  been  ready  enough, \nfor  the  men  of  Connecticut  and  New  Hamp- \nshire were  in  motion  before  the  next  day. \nBut  through  the  winter  of  1774-1775  there \nhad  been  minor  alarms  at  each  little  expedi- \ntion on  which  Gage  sent  his  soldiers.  By \nthese  the  new  system  was  proved  efficient. \nWhether  the  troops  marched  to  Jamaica  Pond, \nto  the  \"punch  bowl\"  in  Brookline,  or  even \nwent,  by  sea  and  land,  as  far  as  Salem,  the \nmilitia  of  the  surrounding  towns  showed  a \nprompt  curiosity  as  to  the  object  of  the \nexcursion.  These  fruitless  musters,  far  from \nmaking  the  minute  men  callous  to  alarms, \n\n\nMilitary  Preparations  171 \n\nserved  to  prepare  them  to  meet  the  great \noccasion  which  they  foresaw  would  finally \ncome.  For  that  they  were  in  excellent  prac- \ntice. \n\nAs  to  Concord  itself,  it  had  become  very \nimportant.  The  Congress,  which  after  its \nfirst  week  in  Concord  had  been  sitting  in \nCambridge,  now  returned,  and  from  the  22d \nof  March  until  the  I5th  of  April1  sat  daily \nin  the  meeting-house.  The  Committee  of \nSafety  remained  still  longer,  busy  with  the \ngathering  of  supplies.  It  is  within  this  period \nthat  Berniere  and  Brown  came  on  their  spy- \ning expedition  to  Concord,  and  were  directed \nby  a  woman  to  the  house  of  Daniel  Bliss.  A \nthreat  of  the  Whigs  to  tar  and  feather  her \nsent  her  to  the  officers  for  refuge,  and  word \npresently  came  to  Bliss  that  the  Whigs \n\"would  not  let  him  go  out  of  the  town  alive \n\n1 1  take  many  facts  in  the  following  pages  from  the \nthree  pamphlets  by  George  Tolman,  \"The  Concord \nMinute  Man,\"  \"Preliminaries  of  Concord  Fight,\"  and \n\"Events  of  April  Nineteenth.\"  These,  published  by \nthe  Concord  Antiquarian  Society,  are  invaluable  to \nthe  student  of  this  period. \n\n\n172  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nthat  morning.\"  This  fate  the  officers  and \ntheir  host  avoided  by  leaving  in  the  night. \nWhat  became  of  the  woman  is  not  said,  but \nwe  may  be  easy  about  her :  no  injury,  and  in \nfact  no  serious  indignity,  was  put  upon  a \nwoman  in  New  England  at  this  period.  The \nofficers  returned  to  Boston  with  a  report  of \nthe  stores  in  Concord. \n\nThis  may  have  increased  the  anxiety  of \nthe  Committee  of  Safety.  Already  they  had \nvoted,  \"requiring  Colonel  Barrett  of  Concord \nto  engage  a  sufficient  number  of  faithful  men \nto  guard  the  Colony's  magazines  in  that \ntown ;  to  keep  a  suitable  number  of  teams \nin  constant  readiness,  by  day  and  night,  to \nremove  the  stores ;  and  to  provide  couriers \nto  alarm  the  neighboring  towns,  on  receiving \ninformation  of  any  movements  of  the  British \ntroops.\"  1  A  watch  was  kept  upon  the  British \nmovements;  and  finally,  when,  on  the  I5th, \nWarren  sent  Paul  Revere  from  Boston  with \nwarning  of  suspicious  movements,  the  Com- \nmittee felt  that  soon  Gage  must  strike.  On \n1  \"Preliminaries,\"  23-24. \n\n\nMilitary  Preparations  173 \n\nthe  1 8th  it  ordered  the  removal  of  some  of \nthe  stores.  \"That  very  night,\"  says  Tolmari, \nwithout  knowledge  of  affairs  in  Boston,  the \nwork  was  begun. \n\nMeanwhile,  in  response  to  another  vote  of \nthe  committee,  the  British  had  been  under \nclose  observation.  The  vote  was  that  \"mem- \nbers of  this  Committee  belonging  to  the  towns \nof  Charlestown,  Cambridge,  and  Roxbury,  be \nrequired  at  the  Province  expense  to  procure \nat  least  two  men  for  a  watch  every  night  to \nbe  placed  in  each  of  these  towns,  and  that \nsaid  members  be  in  readiness  to  send  couriers \nforward  to  the  towns  where  the  magazines \nare  placed,  when  sallies  are  made  by  the \narmy  by  night.\"  In  view  of  these  prepara- \ntions, it  scarcely  needs  to  be  said  that  there \nwas  nothing  accidental  about  Concord  fight. \nSome  day  Gage  was  bound  to  strike  at  Con- \ncord, and  for  that  day  the  Whigs  were  ready. \n\nIt  is  now  that  Paul  Revere  comes  promi- \nnently into  the  course  of  events.  Revere  was \na  Boston  craftsman  of  Huguenot  descent, \nwho  was  and  is  well  known  as  a  silversmith, \n\n\n174  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nengraver,  and  cartoonist.  His  prints  and \narticles  of  silverware  sell  to-day  for  high \nprices,  and  his  house  in  North  Square  has \nrecently  been  fitted  up  as  a  public  museum, \nchiefly  on  account  of  a  single  act  at  a  critical \nmoment.  One  is  glad  to  know,  however,  that \nRevere's  fame  is  not  accidental.  His  pictures \nare  historically  interesting;  we  should  be  the \npoorer  without  his  prints  which  give  views  of \nBoston,  and  without  his  picture  of  the  Mas- \nsacre. His  silver  —  we  have  mentioned  his \npunch-bowl  for  the  \"immortal  Ninety-two\" \n—  is  usually  beautiful.  From  the  foundry \nwhich  he  established  later  in  life  came  cannon, \nand  church-bells  which  are  in  use  to-day. \nAnd  finally  his  famous  ride,  the  object  of \nwhich  would  have  been  brought  about  had \nRevere  been  stopped  at  the  outset,  was  but \none  out  of  many. \n\n\"In  the  year  1773,\"  says  Revere  of  him- \nself,1 \"I  was  employed  by  the  selectmen  of \n\n1  After  the  Revolution,  Revere  wrote  a  narrative  of \nthe  events  in  which  he  was  concerned.  It  is  to  be  found \nin  several  books,  notably  Goff's  \"Life  of  Revere.\" \n\n\nMilitary  Preparations \n\n\n175 \n\n\n176  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nthe  town  of  Boston  to  carry  the  account  of \nthe  Destruction  of  the  Tea  to  New  York,  and \nafterwards,  1774,  to  carry  their  despatches \nto  New  York  and  Philadelphia  for  calling  a \nCongress ;  and  afterwards  to  Congress  several \ntimes.\"  Revere  does  not  mention  the  fact \nthat  he  was  himself  a  member  of  the  Tea- \nParty.  When  he  goes  on  to  speak  of  still \nmore  important  events,  he  suppresses  the  fact \nthat  he  was  one  of  the  leaders,  if  not  the \nchief  leader,  of  the  Boston  artisans. \n\n\"In  the  fall  of  1774,  and  winter  of  1775, \nI  was  one  of  upwards  of  thirty,  chiefly  me- \nchanics, who  formed  ourselves  into  a  com- \nmittee for  the  purpose  of  watching  the  move- \nments of  the  British  soldiers,  and  gaining \nevery  intelligence  of  the  movements  of  the \nTories.  We  held  our  meetings  at  the  Green \nDragon  Tavern.  We  were  so  careful  that \nour  meetings  should  be  kept  secret,  that  every \ntime  we  met,  every  person  swore  upon  the \nBible  that  they  would  not  discover  any  of \nour  transactions  but  to  Messrs.  Hancock, \nAdams,  Doctors  Warren,  Church,  and  one  or \n\n\nMilitary  Preparations  177 \n\ntwo  more.  ...  In  the  winter,  towards  the \nspring,  we  frequently  took  turns,  two  and \ntwo,  to  watch  the  soldiers,  by  patrolling  the \nstreets  all  night.\" \n\nSuch  was  the  watch,  then,  kept  upon  the \nroyalists,  and  such  were  the  preparations  to \nreceive  the  troops  when  they  should  march \nout.  We  know  now  that  Gage  was  informed \nof  them,  for  among  those  whom  Revere \nnames  as  confidants  of  the  mechanics  there \nwas  a  traitor  to  the  cause.  Yet  though  Gage \nknew  of  the  organization  of  the  Whigs,  of  its \nefficiency  he  had  apparently  not  the  glimmer \nof  an  idea.  It  was  with  no  expectation  of \nserious  results  that,  when  at  last  he  learned \nthat  the  resolution  declaring  the  colonies  to \nbe  in  rebellion  had  passed  Parliament,  he \nslowly  put  himself  in  motion  to  seize  the  stores \nof  the  provincials. \n\nThe  Americans  were  keenly  aware  of  all \nhis  movements.  There  were  two  common \nmethods  of  leaving  the  town,  one  by  the \nNeck,  the  other  over  Charlestown  ferry.  But \nthese  routes  lay  through  towns,  either  Rox- \n\n\n178  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nbury  or  Charlestown,  and  to  march  so  openly \nmeant  to  give  the  alarm.  The  Americans \nwere  ready  for  Gage  to  take  a  third  route: \nacross  the  Charles  by  means  of  boats,  and \nthen  by  unfrequented  roads  until  striking  the \nhighway  at  Cambridge  Common.  This  way \nthe  Whigs  suspected  he  might  choose,  and  this \nthey  found  he  did. \n\nGage's  preparations  were  almost  open.  The \nboats  of  the  men-of-war  were  hauled  up  and \nrepaired  at  the  foot  of  the  Common.  On  the \nI4th,  in  the  night,  they  were  launched,  and \nmoored  at  the  sterns  of  the  men-of-war.  On \nthe  1 5th  was  given  out  in  general  orders  that \n\"'The  Grenadiers  and  Light  Infantry  in \norder  to  learn  Grenadrs.  Exercise  and  new \nevolutions  are  to  be  off  all  duties  till  further \norders.'  —  This,\"  remarks  Lieutenant  Barker \nof  the  King's  Own,  \"I  suppose  is  by  way  of  a \nblind.  I  dare  say  they  have  something  for \nthem  to  do.\" \n\nThis  \"something\"  was  either  one  or  both \nof  two  objectives :  the  stores  at  Concord, \nand  the  persons  of  Adams  and  Hancock, \n\n\nMilitary  Preparations  179 \n\nthen  known  to  be  staying  at  the  house  of  the \nReverend  Jonas  Clark  in  Lexington.  That \nthis  latter  objective  was  seriously  considered, \nat  least  by  the  Americans,  we  shall  see  from \nRevere's  narrative.  There  never  has  been \nproof  that  Gage  endeavored  to  seize  either \nthem  or  Warren.  But  in  any  case  the \nstores  were  in  danger,  and  strict  watch  was \nkept. \n\nThere  was  evidence  enough  of  a  coming \nexpedition.  As  before  the  Massacre,  there \nwere  soldiers'  rumors  that  something  was  to \nhappen,  and  the  name  of  Concord  was  whis- \npered about.  On  the  night  of  the  i8th \nword  came  in  from  the  country  that  parties \nof  officers  were  riding  here  and  there.  This \nsame  notice  was  sent  by  vigilant  patriots \nto  Hancock  at  Lexington.  In  Boston  itself \ndifferent  persons  noticed  that  the  troops  were \nastir.  Word  of  all  this  came  from  various \nsources  to  Warren  who,  relinquishing  for  a \nwhile  his  sittings  with  the  Committee  of \nSafety,  had  for  some  days  been  working \nfor  it  at  the  post  of  responsibility  and  danger. \n\n\ni8o  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nWarren  finally  decided  that  he  must  act.  He \nsent  for  the  men  who  had  pledged  themselves \nfor  this  service,  and  gave  them  his  directions. \n\nOne  of  these  men  was  William  Dawes,  of \nwhom,  except  for  his  actions  on  this  night, \nwe  know  little.  Obeying  his  instructions,  he \ntook  horse,  and  rode  across  the  Neck  to  go \nto  Lexington  by  way  of  Roxbury  and  Water- \ntown. \n\n\"About  ten  o'clock,\"  writes  Revere,  \"Dr. \nWarren  sent  in  great  haste  for  me,  and  begged \nthat  I  would  immediately  set  off  for  Lex- \nington, where  Messrs.  Hancock  and  Adams \nwere,  and  acquaint  them  of  the  movement, \nand  that  it  was  thought  they  were  the  objects.\" \nRevere  was  ready.  In  returning  on  the  I5th \nhe  had  arranged  signals  to  his  friends  in \nCharlestown  to  inform  them  what  route \nthe  British  would  take;  he  knew,  also,  how \nhe  should  cross  —  for  the  ferry  was  closed \nat  nine  o'clock  —  and  where  he  should  get \nhis  horse.  From  Warren's  Revere  went  home, \ngot  his  \"boots  and  surtout,\"  and  started. \nTwo  of  his  friends  rowed  him  to  Charles- \n\n\n• \n\n\nTHE  OLD  NORTH  CHURCH \n\n(From  which  Paul  Revere's  signals  were  displayed.) \n\n\nMilitary  Preparations  181 \n\ntown  in  a  boat  which  was  kept  ready  for  the  pur- \npose, another  was  already  despatched  to  make \ncertain  of  the  route  the  British  would  take. \n\nOf  the  person  and  the  actions  of  this  other \nfriend  there  has  been  much  dispute.  The \nweight  of  evidence  seems  to  show  that  on \nmaking  sure  of  the  route  of  the  British,  he \nwent  to  the  Old  North  Church,  still  standing \nin  Salem  Street,  and  from  its  steeple  dis- \nplayed the  signal.  I  make  no  positive  asser- \ntion that  he  spent  any  time  in  watching  the \nBritish ;  Revere,  knowing  the  route,  may \nhave  signalled  in  order  to  make  sure  that  the \nnews  crossed  the  river,  even  though  he  him- \nself might  fail.  The  person  who  displayed  the \nsignals  seems  to  have  been  one  Newman,  the \nsexton  of  the  church,  rather  than  Captain \nPulling,  a  friend  of  Revere's.  At  any  rate, \nthe  signals  were  hung  while  Revere  was \ncrossing  the  river  to  Charlestown.  He  passed \nunobserved  not  far  from  the  Somerset  man- \nof-war,  and  remarks  that  \"it  was  then  young \nflood,  the  ship  was  winding,  and  the  moon \nwas  rising.\"  On  landing,  his  Charlestown \n\n\n1 82  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nfriends  told  him  they  had  already  seen  the \nsignals.  Revere  (if  we  still  suppose  that  he \nneeded  to  make  sure  of  the  route)  himself \nmust  have  taken  a  look  at  the  signal  lanterns, \nas  in  Longfellow's  poem.  \"Two  if  by  sea.\" \nThis  poetical  language  means  merely  that  the \ntroops  were  preparing  to  cross  the  river  in \ntheir  boats.  This  is  the  traditional  account \nof  Revere's  action.  A  contemporary  mem- \norandum states,  however,  that  on  landing \nRevere  \"informed  [us]  that  the  T  [troops] \nwere  actually  in  the  boats.\" \n\n\"I  got  a  horse,\"  says  Revere,  \"of  Deacon \nLarkin,\"  which  horse  the  deacon  never  saw \nagain.  Before  Revere  started  he  again  re- \nceived warning  that  there  were  British  officers \non  the  road,  but  he  was  quite  cool  enough  to \ntake  note  of  the  beauty  of  the  night,  \"about \neleven  o'clock  and  very  pleasant.\"  Crossing \nCharlestown  Neck,  he  started  on  the  road  for \nCambridge,  when  he  saw  before  him  two \nhorsemen  under  a  tree.  As  Revere  drew  near, \nthey  pushed  out  into  the  moonlight,  and  he \nsaw  their  uniforms.  One  of  them  blocked \n\n\nMilitary  Preparations  183 \n\nthe  road,  the  other  tried  to  take  him,  and \nRevere,  turning  back,  galloped  first  for \nCharlestown  and  then  \"pushed  for  the  Med- \nford  road.\"  Revere  made  the  turn  success- \nfully; the  officer  who  followed,  ignorant  of \nthe  locality,  mired  himself  in  a  clay  pond. \nRevere's  road  was  now  clear.  He  reached \nMedford,  and  roused  the  captain  of  the  minute \nmen ;  then,  hastening  on  through  Menotomy, \nnow  Arlington,  and  thence  to  Lexington, \nhe  \"  alarmed  almost  every  house.\"  He  reached \nLexington  about  midnight,  and  went  directly \nto  the  house  of  the  Reverend  Jonas  Clark, \nwhere  Hancock  and  Adams  were  sleeping  under \na  guard  of  the  militia.  Revere  asked  admit- \ntance, and  the  sergeant  informed  him  that  the \nfamily  had  requested  that  no  noise  be  made. \n\"Noise!\"  replied  Revere  in  the  phrase \nfamiliar  to  every  schoolboy,  \"you'll  have \nnoise  enough  before  long  —  the  regulars  are \ncoming  out!\"1  The  family  was  accordingly \nat  once  aroused. \n\n1  Most  of  these  facts  are  from  Frothingham's  \"  Siege,\" \n57-59,  and  from  Revere's  letter. \n\n\n184  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nMeanwhile  the  troops  had  actually  started. \n\"Between  10  and  n  o'clock,\"  says  Lieutenant \nBarker,  \"all  the  Grenadiers  and  Light  In- \nfantry of  the  Army,  making  about  600  Men, \n(under  command  of  Lt.  Coll.  Smith  of \nthe  loth  and  Major  Pitcairn  of  the  Marines,) \nembarked  and  were  landed  on  the  opposite \nshore  of  Cambridge  Marsh.\"  This  phras- \ning is  not  immediately  clear  to  one  of  to-day. \nIn  those  days  every  regiment  had  two  special \ncompanies,  the  heavy-armed  grenadiers,  so \ncalled  because  they  originally  carried  hand- \ngrenades,  and  the  light-infantry  company. \nThese  were  frequently  detached  for  special \nduty,  as  the  present,  when  the  Light  Infanty \nwould  be  used  for  flanking  purposes.  Thus \nevery  regiment  in  Boston  was  represented \nin  the  expedition  —  and  we  may  add  in  the \nlist  of  killed  and  wounded  on  the  following \nday.  The  number  is  generally  estimated  at \neight  hundred.  They  were  commanded  by \nthe  colonel  who  had  been  longest  on  duty \nin  New  England.  Smith  was  in  character \ntoo  much  like  Gage  himself.  The  general \n\n\nMilitary  Preparations  185 \n\nwould  have  done  better  to  send  one  of  his \nbrigadiers. \n\nOne  at  least  of  the  brigadiers  was  reason- \nably alert.  According  to  Stedman,  Lord \nPercy  was  crossing  the  Common  after  learning \nfrom  the  general  that  a  secret  expedition  had \njust  started.  Perceiving  a  group  of  men \ntalking  together,  the  nobleman  joined  them \nin  time  to  hear  one  say,  \"The  British  troops \nhave  marched,  but  have  missed  their  aim.\" \n\n\"What  aim  ?\"  asked  Lord  Percy. \n\nThe  reply  was,  \"The  cannon  at  Concord.\" \n\nPercy,  in  much  perturbation,  at  once  re- \nturned to  the  general  and  told  him  that  his \nsecret  was  known.  Poor  Gage  complained \nthat  his  confidence  had  been  betrayed,  \"for \nthat  he  had  communicated  his  design  to  one \nperson  only  besides  his  lordship.\" \n\nThe  student  of  the  time  sees  in  this  story \na  side-thrust  at  Mrs.  Gage,  on  whom,  as  an \nAmerican,  the  officers  were  ready  to  blame \nthe  knowledge  of  secrets  which  were  gained \nby  Yankee  shrewdness  alone.  In  this  case \nwe  have  seen  that  it  was  Gage  that  betrayed \n\n\n1 86  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nhimself  to  the  eyes  of  Revere's  volunteer \nwatch.  The  general  hastily  sent  to  order \nthe  guard  at  the  Neck  to  let  no  one  leave \nthe  town.  But  he  was  too  late  :  Dawes  was \ngone,  Revere  was  on  the  water,  and  the  news \nwas  out. \n\nThe  expedition  was  bungled  at  the  very \nstart.  \"After  getting  over  the  Marsh,  where \nwe  were  wet  up  to  the  knees,\"  says  Lieuten- \nant Barker,  \"we  were  halted  in  a  dirty  road \nand  stood  there  till  two  o'clock  in  the  morn- \ning, waiting  for  provisions  to  be  brought  from \nthe  boats  and  to  be  divided,  and  which  most \nof  the  men  threw  away,  having  carried  some \nwith  'em.\"  As  they  waited  there  they  might \nhave  heard  signal  guns,  and  learned  that  in \na  constantly  widening  circle  of  villages,  \"the \nbells  were  rung  backward,  the  drums  they \nwere  beat.\"  The  news  had  three  hours' \nstart  of  them.  At  last,  at  two  on  the  I9th, \nhaving  \"waded  through  a  very  long  ford \nup  to  our  middles,\"  wet,  dirty,  and  loaded \nwith  the  heavy  equipment  of  the  period,  they \nstarted  on  their  march. \n\n\nCHAPTER  VIII \n\nTHE    NINETEENTH    OF    APRIL \n\nJOHN  HANCOCK  never  showed  better \nin  his  life  than  on  the  morning  of  the \nI9th  of  April.  Many  times  the  Tories \nhad  tried  to  win  him  over.  Hutchinson \nhimself  had  written:  \"At  present,  Hancock \nand  Adams  are  at  variance.  Some  of  my \nfriends  blow  the  coals,  and  I  hope  to  see  a \ngood  effect.\"  Yet  Adams  and  Hancock  were \nstill  enlisted  in  the  same  cause  on  this  morn- \ning when  blood  was  to  be  shed.  And  Han- \ncock, when  roused  from  his  sleep  at  midnight, \nwas  hot  with  the  desire  to  take  his  musket \nand  fight  on  Lexington  Green. \n\nAdams  and  his  friends  —  among  them  his \nsweetheart  —  dissuaded  him.  The  two  Whig \nleaders  finally  took  the  road  to  Woburn, \nand  in  the  succeeding  days  passed  on  to \nWorcester  and  Hartford,  planned  the  taking \n\n187 \n\n\n1 88  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nof  Ticonderoga,  and,  joining  the  other  delegates \nfrom  Boston,  in  May  met  with  the  second \nContinental  Congress.  If  Gage  had  meant \nto  seize  Hancock  and  Adams,  he  had  lost \nhis  chance.  The  outcome  lay  in  the  hands \nof  the  fighting  men. \n\nRevere  waited  at  Mr.  Clark's  house  for \nabout  half  an  hour,  when  Dawes  arrived. \nThe  two  then  set  out  for  Concord,  and  were \njoined  on  the  way  by  \"a  young  Dr.  Prescott, \nwhom  we  found  to  be  a  high  son  of  liberty.\"1 \nThey  began  to  rouse  the  farmers  along  the \nroad,  and  had  already  gone  halfway  when \nthey  saw  in  the  road  horsemen  whom  Revere \nknew  at  once  to  be  British  officers.  Revere \nand  Prescott,  blocked  in  front  and  rear, \nturned  into  a  pasture;  but  this  was  a  trap \nwhere  other  officers  were  waiting.  Prescott, \nknowing  the  country,  put  his  horse  at  a  fence \nand  got  away ;  Revere  found  himself  sur- \nrounded by  six  horsemen  who,  with  swords \nand  pistols  ready,  ordered  him  to  dismount. \nThere  was  nothing  for  him  to  do  but  comply. \n1  Revere's  narrative. \n\n\nThe  Nineteenth  of  April  189 \n\nDawes,  who  had  been  behind  upon  the  road, \nturned  to  go  back,  and  was  pursued.  He \nrode  into  a  farmyard,  shouted  out  as  to  friends \nin  waiting,  and  frightened  off  his  pursuers. \nBoth  he  and  Prescott  were  useful  in  spreading \nthe  alarm  farther. \n\nBut  Revere  was  caught.  His  chief  captor \nexamined  him,  and  got  slight  satisfaction. \n\"I  told  him,  and  added  that  their  troops \nhad  catched  aground  in  passing  the  river \nand  that  there  would  be  five  hundred  Ameri- \ncans there  in  a  short  time,  for  I  had  alarmed \nthe  country  all  the  way  up.\"  His  anxious \ncaptors  consulted  together,  and  were  con- \nducting him  back  toward  Lexington,  \"when \nthe  militia  fired  a  volley  of  guns,  which \nseemed  to  alarm  them  very  much.\"  They \nasked  if  there  were  any  other  road  to  Cam- \nbridge, took  Revere's  horse,  and  left  him. \nHe  hurried  back  to  Lexington,  to  give  Han- \ncock and  Adams  the  news  that  sent  them \non  their  way.  Revere  himself  remained  long \nenough  to  save  a  trunk  of  papers  belonging  to \nHancock. \n\n\n190  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nMeanwhile  the  militia  of  the  town,  alarmed \nby  Revere,  assembled  and  waited  for  the \ntroops.  They  sent  two  messengers  toward \nCambridge  to  bring  certain  news,  but  each  of \nthese  blundered  into  the  advancing  regulars, \nand  were  seized  and  held.  The  militia  waited \nfor  some  hours,  but  on  hearing  no  word  they \nwere  finally  dismissed,  with  a  warning  to  be \nready  to  come  together  again  instantly.  Some \nwent  to  their  homes,  some  to  the  near-by \ntavern,  to  finish  out  the  night. \n\nNews  came  at  last  to  Captain  Parker  that \nthe  British  were  scarcely  a  mile  away,  and \nin  such  numbers  that  his  company  could  not \nhope  to  oppose  them.  He  called  his  men \ntogether,  nevertheless,  \"but  only  with  a  view \nto  determine  what  to  do,  when  and  where  to \nmeet,  and  to  dismiss  and  disperse.\"  l  The \nminute  men  were  still  standing  in  their  ranks \nwhen  the  British  suddenly  appeared. \n\nThe  succeeding  events  caused  much  con- \ntroversy at  the  time.  Gage  reported  \"that \nthe  troops  were  fired  upon  by  the  rebels  out \n\n1  Clark's  narrative. \n\n\nThe  Nineteenth  of  April  191 \n\nof  the  meeting-house,  and  the  neighboring \nhouses,  as  well  as  by  those  that  were  in  the \nfield;  and  that  the  troops  only  returned  the \nfire,  and  passed  on  their  way  to  Concord.\"  l \nBut  in  number  the  little  company  of  minute \nmen  were,  according  to  Revere,  who  had  just \npassed  through  them,  \"about  fifty\";  the  Rev- \nerend Jonas  Clark  says  \"fifty  or  sixty,  or  even \nseventy.\"  Had  there  been  even  the  two  or \nthree  hundred  of  the  British  reports,  these \nmen,  drawn  up  without  protection  on  an  open \ngreen,  are  scarcely  likely  to  have  attacked  a \nforce  of  more  than  twice  their  number.  The \nlogic  of  the  situation  seems  against  Gage. \n\nThere  is  one  more  factor  to  consider.  It  is \nwell  enough  known  that  both  the  British \nofficers,  and  the  Americans  as  a  whole,  were \nunder  instructions  not  to  fire,  and  earnest  to \nobey.  But  what  of  the  British  privates  ? \nTheir  eagerness  for  blood  at  the  time  of  the \nMassacre  was  so  great  as  to  account  for  that \ntragedy;  it  was  now  not  likely  to  be  less. \nThere  were  even  among  the  troops  at  Lex- \n\n1  Clark's  narrative. \n\n\n192  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nington  two  companies  from  one  of  the  \"Sam \nAdams  regiments.\"  When  we  learn  from \nLieutenant  Barker  that  after  the  skirmish \n\"the  Men  were  so  wild  they  cou'd  hear  no \norders,\"  we  may  even  suspect  that,  as  at  the \nMassacre,  the  men  may  have  taken  matters \ninto  their  own  hands. \n\n\"For,\"  says  the  minister  of  Lexington,  \"no \nsooner  did  they  come  in  sight  of  our  com- \npany, but  one  of  them,  supposed  to  be  an \nofficer  of  rank,  was  heard  to  say  to  the  troops, \n*  Damn  them,  we  will  have  them  ! '  —  Upon \nthis  the  troops  shouted  aloud,  huzza'd,  and \nrushed  furiously  towards  our  men.  —  About \nthe  same  time,  three  officers  (supposed  to  be \nCol.  Smith,  Major  Pitcairn  and  another \nofficer)  advanced,  on  horse  back,  to  the  front \nof  the  body,  and  coming  within  five  or  six \nrods  of  the  militia,  one  of  them  cried  out,  'ye \nvillains,  ye  Rebels,  disperse ;  Damn  you,  dis- \nperse !'  or  words  to  this  effect.  One  of \nthem  (whether  the  same,  or  not,  is  not  easily \ndetermined)  said,  'Lay  down  your  arms, \nDamn  you,  why  don't  you  lay  down  your \n\n\nThe  Nineteenth  of  April  193 \n\narms  ! '  —  The  second  of  these  officers,  about \nthis  time,  fired  a  pistol  towards  the  militia, \nas  they  were  dispersing.  —  The  foremost, \nwho  was  within  a  few  yards  of  our  men, \nbrandishing  his  sword,  and  then  pointing \ntowards  them,  said,  with  a  loud  voice,  to  the \ntroops,  '  Fire  !  —  By  God,  fire  ! '  —  which \nwas  instantly  followed  by  a  discharge  of  arms \nfrom  the  said  troops,  succeeded  by  a  very \nheavy  and  close  fire  upon  our  party,  dispers- \ning, so  long  as  any  of  them  were  within  reach. \n—  Eight  were  left  dead  upon  the  ground ! \nTen  were  wounded.\"  1 \n\nThis  is  the  best  contemporary  account \nwhich  we  have  of  the  affair.  It  is  evident \nfrom  his  careful  language  and  semi-legal \nterms  that  the  Reverend  Mr.  Clark,  though \nnot  on  the  ground  until  half  an  hour  after- \nwards, took  all  possible  pains  to  gather  the \nfacts,  and  considered  himself  upon  oath  in \nreporting  them.  He  was  himself  a  witness  of \nthe  exultation  of  the  troops  at  their  victory, \nand  expresses  his  indignation. \n1  Clark's  narrative. \n\n\n194  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nTradition  gives  Major  Pitcairn,  of  the  Ma- \nrines, a  prominent  part  in  the  affair.  \"A \ngood  man,\"  says  Stiles,  \"in  a  bad  cause,\" \nand  adds  that  had  Pitcairn  ever  been  able  to \nsay  that  he  was  sure  the  Americans  fired \nfirst,  he  would  have  believed  him.  Honest \nMajor  Pitcairn  could  only  state  his  belief. \n\nSo  the  first  blood  in  the  Revolution  was \nspilt.  The  death  of  one  of  the  Americans, \nJonathan  Harrington,  was  pitiful :  shot  within \nsight  of  his  home,  he  crawled  to  the  door,  and \nexpired  at  his  wife's  feet.  To  the  heavy \nvolleys  they  received,  the  Americans  returned \nbut  a  scattering  fire ;  some  of  them  did  not \nfire  at  all.1  Two  British  privates  were \nwounded,  and  Pitcairn's  horse. \n\nThe  troops,  as  soon  as  they  could  be \nmarshalled  again,  fired  a  volley  and  gave \nthree  cheers,  rested  for  a  little  while,  and \nmarched  on  toward  Concord.  There,  since \nearly  morning,  had  gathered  some  of  the \nmilitia  from  Bedford  and  Lincoln,  and  about \nsunrise  the  little  company  marched  out  of \n\n1  Clark's  narrative. \n\n\nThe  Nineteenth  of  April  195 \n\ntown.  \"We  thought,\"  says  Amos  Barrett \nquaintly,  \"we  would  go  and  meet  the  British. \nWe  marched  down  towards  Lexington  about \na  mile  or  mile  and  a  half,  and  we  saw  them \ncoming.\"  But  on  seeing  their  numbers  the \nmilitia  turned  back,  \"and  marched  before \nthem  with  our  drums  and  fifes  going,  and \nalso  the  British.  We  had  grand  musick.\" \nThe  provincials  halted  once  or  twice  on  the \nhill  that  ran  along  the  high  road,  and  came \nat  last  to  the  liberty  pole,  overlooking  the \ntown.  \"  The  Yankees,\"  records  Lieutenant \nBarker  of  the  King's  Own,  \"had  that  hill  but \nleft  it  to  us ;  we  expected  they  wou'd  have \nmade  a  stand  there,  but  they  did  not  chuse \nit.\"  The  militia,  still  withdrawing  before \nsuperior  numbers,  retreated  across  the  river, \nand  the  British  occupied  the  town. \n\nIn  place  of  the  five  bridges  which  to-day, \nwithin  a  mile  of  the  meeting-house,  encircle \nConcord,  the  town  in  1775  had  but  two. \nThe  first  of  these  was  the  South  Bridge,  on \nthe  present  Main  Street  route  to  Marlborough \n\n1  Letter  of  Amos  Barrett,  privately  printed. \n\n\n196  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nand  South  Acton.  The  other  was  the  North \nBridge,  on  a  highway  now  abandoned,  which \nin  those  days  led  to  Acton,  Carlisle,  and  Bed- \nford. Colonel  Smith  took  possession  of  both \nthese  bridges,  and  while  his  men  searched \nthe  town  for  stores,  he  sent  a  detachment \nacross  the  North  Bridge  to  the  farm  of \nColonel  Barrett,  where  it  was  known  that \nsupplies  had  been  kept.  Of  our  two  British \ninformants  of  the  events  of  the  day,  Ensign \nBerniere  guided  the  troops  that  went  to  the \nBarrett  farm,  Lieutenant  Barker  remained \nwith  a  detachment  that  stayed  to  guard  the \nbridge.  Meanwhile,  on  a  hillside  beyond  the \nriver,  almost  within  gunshot  of  the  bridge, \nthe  militia  watched  the  first  detachment  pass \non  its  errand,  and  counted  the  numbers  of \nthe  redcoats  that  held  the  nearer  side  of  the \npassage. \n\nColonel  Smith  speedily  learned  that  his \njourney  had  been  nearly  in  vain.  As  we \nhave  seen,  already  on  the  night  before,  with- \nout news  from  Boston,  the  removal  of  the \nstores  had  been  begun.  The  alarm  brought \n\n\nThe  Nineteenth  of  April  197 \n\nin  by  Dr.  Prescott  hastened  the  work.  Men \nand  boys,  and  even  women  and  girls,  were \nbusy  in  hiding  the  stores  or  carrying  them \naway.  Some  of  them  were  skilfully  secreted \nunder  the  very  eyes  of  the  British.  The \ntroops  found  little.  In  the  town  some  few \ngun-carriages,  barrels  of  flour,  wooden  mess- \nbowls,  and  wooden  spoons  were  found  and \ndestroyed.  At  Colonel  Barrett's,  acknowl- \nedges Berniere,  \"we  did  not  find  so  much \nas  we  expected,  but  what  there  was  we  de- \nstroyed.\" He  was  unaware  that  the  cannon \nhad  been  laid  in  a  ploughed  field,  and  concealed \nby  turning  a  furrow  over  them,  the  work \ncontinuing  even  while  the  troops  were  in  sight. \nOf  proceedings  in  the  town  we  get  the  best \npicture  from  the  petition  of  Martha  Moulton, \n\"widow- woman,\"  who  in  her  deposition  \"hum- \nbly sheweth :  That  on  the  iQth  day  of  April, \n1775,  in  the  forenoon,  the  town  of  Concord, \nwherein  I  dwell,  was  beset  with  an  army  of \nregulars,  who,  in  a  hostile  manner,  entered \nthe  town,  and  drawed  up  in  form  before  the \nhouse  in  which  I  live ;  and  there  they  con- \n\n\n198  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\ntinued  on  the  green,  feeding  their  horses \nwithin  five  feet  of  the  door ;  and  about  fifty \nor  sixty  of  them  was  in  and  out  of  the  house, \ncalling  for  water  and  what  they  wanted,  for \nabout  three  hours.\"  The  neighbors  had  fled, \nand  poor  Mrs.  Moulton  was  left  with  \"no \nperson  near  but  an  old  man  of  eighty-five \nyears,  and  myself  seventy-one  years  old,  and \nboth  very  infirm.  It  may  easily  be  imagined \nwhat  a  sad  condition  your  petitioner  must  be \nin.\"  But  she  committed  herself  to  Provi- \ndence, \"and  was  very  remarkably  helpt  with \nso  much  fortitude  of  mind,  as  to  wait  on \n\n* \n\nthem,  as  they  called,  with  what  we  had,  — \nchairs  for  Major  Pitcairn  and  four  or  five \nmore  officers,  —  who  sat  at  the  door  viewing \ntheir  men.  At  length  your  petitioner  had, \nby  degrees,  cultivated  so  much  favor  as  to \ntalk  a  little  with  them.  When  all  on  a  sudden \nthey  had  set  fire  to  the  great  gun-carriages \njust  by  the  house,  and  while  they  were  in \nflames  your  petitioner  saw  smoke  arise  out \nof  the  Town  House  higher  than  the  ridge  of \nthe  house.  Then  your  petitioner  did  put  her \n\n\nThe  Nineteenth  of  April  199 \n\nlife,  as  it  were,  in  her  hand,  and  ventured \nto  beg  of  the  officers  to  send  some  of  their \nmen  to  put  out  the  fire;  but  they  took  no \nnotice,  only  sneered.  Your  petitioner,  seeing \nthe  Town  House  on  fire,  and  must  in  a  few \nminutes  be  past  recovery,  did  yet  venture  to \nexpostulate  with  the  officers  just  by  her,  as \nshe  stood  with  a  pail  of  water  in  her  hand, \nbegging  them  to  send,  &c.  When  they  only \nsaid,  '  O,  mother,  we  won't  do  you  any \nharm!'  'Don't  be  concerned,  mother,'  and \nsuch  like  talk.\"  But  the  widow  Moulton  per- \nsisted, until  \"at  last,  by  one  pail  of  water \nand  another,  they  did  send  and  extinguish \nthe  fire.\"  1  It  is  pleasant  to  know  that  the \ncourageous  old  lady  received  three  pounds  for \nher  services,  and  that  the  smoke  which  rose \nhigher  than  the  Town  House  served  only  to \ngive  the  signal  for  Concord  fight. \n\nAll  this  while  the  numbers  of  the  militia \nhad  been  growing.  They  were  stationed  on \nthe  slope  of  Punkatasset  Hill,  and  from \nminute  to  minute  squads  and  companies \n\n1  Frothingham's  \"Siege,\"  Appendix,  369-370. \n\n\n2OO  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\ncame  in  from  the  neighboring  towns.  It  has \nbeen  made  a  reproach  to  Concord  that  so \nfew  of  her  men  were  there,  but  they  were \nengaged  in  the  far  more  important  duty  of \nsaving  the  stores.  Nevertheless,  one  of  her \nmilitia  companies  was  on  the  ground,  with \nthose  individuals  who  were  able  to  hurry \nback  after  putting  the  stores  in  safety.  The \nCarlisle  and  Acton  men  had  joined  the  wait- \ning provincials,  whose  numbers  at  last  be- \ncame so  threatening  that  the  guard  at  the \nbridge,  in  full  sight  of  them,  became  uneasy. \n\nThe  militia  became  uneasy  also.  Beyond \nthe  bridge,  in  the  town,  they  saw  more  smoke \nthan  seemed  warranted  by  merely  burning \ncannon  wheels  and  spoons.  The  officers  con- \nsulted, and  Captain  Smith,  of  Lincoln,  urged \nthat  the  bridge  be  forced.  Davis  of  Acton, \nspeaking  of  his  company,  said,  \"I  haven't  a \nman  that's  afraid  to  go!\"  The  movement \nwas  decided  upon,  and  the  militia,  in  double \nfile,  marched  down  toward  the  bridge.  The \nActon  company  had  the  lead,  with  Davis  at \nits  head;  beside  him  marched  Major  John \n\n\nThe  Nineteenth  of  April  201 \n\nButtrick,  of  Concord,  in  command,  with \nLieutenant-Colonel  Robinson,  of  Westford, \nas  a  volunteer  aid.  As  the  provincials  drew \nnear,  the  British  hastily  retreated  across  the \nbridge,  and  their  commander  awkwardly  mar- \nshalled his  three  companies  one  behind  the \nother,  so  that  only  the  first  could  fire.  As \nsome  of  the  soldiers  began  to  take  up  the \nplanks  of  the  bridge,  the  Americans  hastened \ntheir  march,  and  presently  the  British  fired. \nThere  is  no  question  that  they  began  the \nfight,  with  first  a  few  scattering  guns,  \"up \nthe  river,\"  and  then  a  volley  at  close  range. \n\nThe  whole  was  seen  by  the  Concord  min- \nister, William  Emerson,  from  his  study  in  the \nManse,  close  by.  For  a  moment,  he  records, \nhe  feared  that  the  fire  was  not  to  be  returned ; \nbut  he  need  not  have  doubted.  The  British \nvolley  killed  the  Acton  captain,  Davis,  and \nHosmer,  his  adjutant.  Then  Major  Buttrick, \nleaping  into  the  air  as  he  turned  to  his  men, \ncried,  \"Fire,  fellow-soldiers;  for  God's  sake, \nfire!\" \n\n\"We  were   then,\"    records   Amos    Barrett, \n\n\n2O2  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nof  the  second  company,  \"all  ordered  to  fire \nthat  could  fire  and  not  kill  our  own  men.\" \nThe  return  fire,  though  from  the  awkward \nposition  of  double  file,  was  effective.  Two \nof  the  British  were  killed  outright,  another \nfell  wounded,  and  the  whole,  apparently \ndoubting  their  ability  to  hold  the  bridge, \nhastily  retreated  upon  the  main  body.  \"We \ndid  not  follow  them,\"  records  Barrett. \n\"  There  were  eight  or  ten  that  were  wounded \nand  a-running  and  a-hobbling  about,  looking \nback  to  see  if  we  were  after  them.\" \n\nAs  reminders  of  the  fight,  besides  the \nbridge  which  Concord,  many  years  after  its \ndisappearance,  rebuilt  on  the  centenary  of \nthe  day,  the  town  points  to  the  graves  of  the \ntwo  soldiers  killed  in  the  fight,  who  were \nburied  close  by.  Another  memorial  is  seen \nin  the  bullet-hole  in  the  Elisha  Jones  house \nnear  at  hand,  at  whose  door  the  proprietor \nshowed  himself  as  the  regulars  hastily  re- \ntreated. On  being  fired  at,  Jones  speedily \nremoved  himself  from  the  scene,  and  from \nsubsequent  history. \n\n\nThe  Nineteenth  of  April  203 \n\nThere  were  no  further  immediate  conse- \nquences. The  Americans  crossed  the  bridge, \nand  stationed  themselves  behind  the  ridge \nthat  overlooked  the  town ;  the  search-party \nthat  had  gone  to  Colonel  Barrett's  returned. \n\"They  had  taken  up  some  planks  of  the \nbridge,\"  says  Berniere  of  the  Americans, \nthough  the  work  was  done  by  the  British. \n\"Had  they  destroyed  it,  we  were  most  certainly \nall  lost ;  however,  we  joined  the  main  body.\" \nColonel  Smith  now  had  his  force  together, \nand  had  done  all  that  could  be  done,  yet  for \ntwo  hours  more  he,  by  futile  marchings  and \ncountermarchings,  \"discovered  great  Fickle- \nness 1  and  Inconstancy  of  Mind.\"  The  de- \nlay was  serious ;  he  had  earlier  sent  to  Gage \nfor  reinforcements,  and  he  ought  now  to  have \nconsidered  that  every  minute  was  bringing \nmore  Americans  to  the  line  of  his  retreat. \nWhen,  about  noon,  he  started  for  Boston, \nthe  situation  was  very  grave. \n\nThe  British  left  the  town  as  they  had  come \n\n1  \"Feekelness,\"  Emerson's  letter,  \"Source  Book  of \nthe  American  Revolution,\"  146. \n\n\n204  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nin,  with  the  grenadiers  on  the  highway,  the \nlight  infantry  flanking  them  on  the  ridge. \nOn  this  elevation,  above  the  house  he  later \ninhabited,  Hawthorne  laid  the  scene  of  the \nduel  between  Septimius  Felton  and  the  British \nofficer.  At  Merriam's  Corner  the  ridge  ends. \nHere  the  flankers  joined  the  main  body,  and \ntogether  noted  the  approach  of  the  Americans, \nwho  had  dogged  them.  The  regulars  turned \nand  fired,  only  to  be  driven  onward  by  an \naccurate  response.  \"  When  I  got  there,\"  says \nAmos  Barrett,  \"a  great  many  lay  dead,  and \nthe  road  was  bloody.\"  From  that  time  en- \nsued a  scattering  general  engagement  along \nthe  line  of  the  retreat. \n\nIn  this  kind  of  fighting  the  odds  were \ngreatly  with  the  Americans,  as  Gage,  with \nhis  memory  of  Braddock's  defeat,  might  have \nforeseen.  The  British  complained  with  exas- \nperation that  the  militia  would  not  stand \nup  to  them.  The  provincials  knew  better \nthan  to  do  so.  Lightly  armed,  carrying  lit- \ntle besides  musket  or  rifle,  powder  horn  and \nbullet-pouch, —  and  all  these  smaller  and \n\n\nThe  Nineteenth  of  April  205 \n\nlighter  than  the  British  equipment,  —  the \nfarmers  were  able  with  ease  to  keep  up  with \nthe  troops,  to  fire  from  cover,  to  load,  and \nthen  again  to  regain  the  distance  lost.  Every \nfurlong  saw  their  numbers  increase.  At  Mer- \nriam's  Corner  came  in  the  Reading  company ; \nbefore  long  the  survivors  of  the  Lexington \ncompany  joined  the  fight  to  take  their  revenge  ; \nand  from  that  time  on,  from  north,  from \nsouth,  and  from  the  east,  the  minute  men  and \nmilitia  came  hurrying  up  to  join  the  chase. \n\nBefore  five  miles  were  passed,  the  retreat \nhad  degenerated  into  a  mere  rout.  \"  We  at \nfirst,\"  says  Berniere,  \"kept  our  order  and \nreturned  their  fire  as  hot  as  we  received \nit,  but  when  we  arrived  within  a  mile  of \nLexington,  our  ammunition  began  to  fail,  and \nthe  light  companies  were  so  fatigued  with \nflanking  they  were  scarce  able  to  act,  and  a \ngreat  number  of  wounded  scarce  able  to  get \nforward,  made  a  great  confusion;  Col.  Smith \n(our  commanding  officer)  had  received  a  wound \nthrough  his  leg,  a  number  of  officers  were  also \nwounded,  so  that  we  began  to  run  rather \n\n\n206  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nthan  retreat  in  order.  ...  At  last,  after \nwe  got  through  Lexington,  the  officers  got  to \nthe  front  and  presented  their  bayonets,  and \ntold  the  men  that  if  they  advanced  they \nshould  die :  Upon  this  they  began  to  form \nunder  a  heavy  fire.\"  There  was,  however,\"  no \nhope  for  them  unless  they  should  be  reinforced. \nIn  the  nick  of  time  the  succor  came.  Early \nin  the  morning  Gage  had  received  word  that \nthe  country  was  alarmed,  and  started  to  send \nout  reinforcements.  There  were  the  usual \ndelays  ;  among  other  mistakes,  they  waited  for \nPitcairn,  who  was  with  the  first  detachment. \nThe  relief  party  as  finally  made  up  com- \nprised about  twelve  hundred  men,  with  two \nsix-pounder  field-pieces,  under  Lord  Percy. \nPercy  went  out  through  Roxbury  with  his \nband  playing  Yankee  Doodle,  and  as  he  went \na  quick-witted  lad  reminded  him  of  Chevy \nChase.  More  than  once  before  night  Percy \nmust  have  thought  of  the  Whig  youngster. \nHe  was  momentarily  delayed  at  the  Cam- \nbridge bridge,  where  the  Committee  of  Safety \nhad  taken  up  the  planks,  but  had  frugally \n\n\nThe  Nineteenth  of  April  207 \n\nstored  them  in  full  view  of  the  road.  Percy \nrelaid  some  of  the  planks  and  hurried  on \nwith  his  guns,  leaving  behind  his  baggage \ntrain  and  hospital  supplies,  which  were  pres- \nently captured  by  a  company  headed  by  a \nwarlike  minister.  Percy  was  again  delayed \non  Cambridge  Common  for  want  of  a  guide ; \nwhen  again  he  was  able  to  push  on  he  spared \nno  time,  and  reached  Lexington  at  the  criti- \ncal moment.  He  formed  his  men  into  a  hol- \nlow square,  to  protect  Smith's  exhausted \nmen,  who  threw  themselves  down  on  the \nground,  \"their  tongues  hanging  out  of  their \nmouths  like  those  of  dogs  after  a  chase.\" 1 \nPercy  turned  on  the  militia  his  two  field- \npieces,  \"which  our  people,\"  grimly  remarks \nMr.  Clark,  writing  after  Bunker  Hill,  \"were \nnot  so  well  acquainted  with  then,  as  they \nhave  been  since.\"  Percy  had  the  satisfaction, \nwhich  both  Berniere  and  Barker  express,  of \nsilencing  the  provincials. \n\n1  This  quotation  from  Stedman,  himself  a  British \nofficer,  is  perhaps  as  well  known  as  Revere's  midnight \nremark,  already  given. \n\n\n208  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nHe  knew  too  well,  however,  that  the  Ameri- \ncans were  willing  to  be  quiet  only  because \nthey  awaited  their  own  reinforcements.  Every \nminute  of  delay  was  dangerous,  for  now  the \nAmerican  military  leaders  were  gathering. \nIf  Hancock  and  Adams  had  left  the  field, \nWarren  hastened  to  it.  We  know  some  of  his \nsayings  as  he  left  Boston.  uThey  have  be- \ngun it,  —  that  either  party  can  do ;  and  we'll \nend  it,  —  that  only  one  can  do.\"  To  the \nremark,  \"Well,  they  are  gone  out,\"  he  re- \nplied, \"Yes,  and  we  will  be  up  with  them \nbefore  night.\"  Warren  probably  was  present \nat  a  meeting  of  the  Committee  of  Safety \nwhich  was  held  that  morning,  but  his  biog- \nrapher says:  \"I  am  unable  to  locate  him \nuntil  the  afternoon,  about  the  time  Lord \nPercy's  column  rescued  Colonel  Smith's  party \nfrom  entire  destruction,  which  was  at  two \no'clock.\" \n\nWarren  was  no  mere  adviser.  With  Gen- \neral Heath  he  had  been  planning  for  the  work \nof  the  day,  and  when,  after  half  an  hour's \nrest,  Percy's  troops  moved  onward,  the \n\n\nThe  Nineteenth  of  April  209 \n\ntime  came  for  the  measures  to  be  put  into \neffect.  Warren  went  with  Heath  to  the \nscene  of  battle.  Yet  little  could  be  done  in \norganized  form,  at  least  in  the  open  country, \nand  the  minute  men  continued  to  pick \noff  the  British.  But  when  the  troops  were \namong  houses,  and  in  revenge  for  their  losses \nbegan  to  plunder  1  and  burn,  the  Americans \nfor  the  first  time  began  to  close  in.  Many \nof  them  fired  from  barricaded  houses,  and \nwere  killed  in  consequence.  The  Danvers \ncompany,  the  only  one  that  tried  to  fight  as \na  body,  were  caught  between  the  main  col- \numn of  the  regulars  and  a  strong  flanking \nparty,  and  many  were  killed  in  an  improvised \nenclosure.  But  even  without  defences  the \nAmericans  became  very  bold,  and  the  fight \nfiercer.  Warren,  rashly  exposing  himself,  had \na  pin  shot  out  of  his  hair.  Percy,  on  the  other \nhand,  lost  a  button  from  his  waistcoat. \nNothing  can  explain  the  comparatively  slight \n\n1  \"The  plundering  was  shameful,\"  says  Lieutenant \nBarker  indignantly.  See  also  depositions  in  Froth- \ningham's  \"Siege,\"  Appendices. \n\n\n2io  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nlosses  of  the  British  except  the  rapidity  of \ntheir  march  to  safety.  As  it  was,  the  regulars \nwere  almost  worn  out  with  their  exertions \nwhen  they  saw  ahead  of  them  the  hills  of \nCharlestown,  and  looking  across  the  Back  Bay, \nmight  perceive  on  the  slopes  of  Beacon  Hill \nhalf  the  population  of  Boston  watching  their \ndisgrace. \n\nBoston  had  been  in  suspense  since  early \nmorning.  All  the  Whigs  had  suspected  the \nmeaning  of  Gage's  preparations,  and  the \ntown  was  no  sooner  astir  than  the  news  was \nabroad  that  the  expedition  had  started. \nNext  came  word  that  an  officer  had  come \nin  haste  with  a  message  for  Gage.  At  about \neight  came  news  of  the  death  of  five  men  in \nLexington.  Already  Lord  Percy's  detach- \nment was  parading,  waiting  for  the  Marines, \nwho  in  turn  waited  for  their  absent  com- \nmander. Thousands  of  people  were  in  the \nstreet,  and  even  the  schoolboys  were  running \nabout,  for  Master  Lovell  had  dismissed  his \nschool  with  the  words,  \"War's  begun,  and \nschool's  done.\"  Through  the  day  came  con- \n\n\nThe  Nineteenth  of  April  211 \n\nflicting  rumors.  \"About  twelve  o'clock  it  was \ngave  out  by  the  General's  Aide  camps  that \nno  person  was  kilPd,  and  that  a  single  gun \nhad  not  been  fir'd,  which  report  was  variously \nbeliev'd.\" 1  Fairly  correct  accounts  of  the \nfight  at  Lexington  began  to  come  in,  em- \nbellished with  the  addition  that  men  had  been \nkilled  in  the  meeting-house.  In  the  after- \nnoon people  began  to  watch  from  the  hills \nfor  the  return  of  the  troops,  and  before  sun- \nset the  noise  of  firing  was  heard. \n\nOf  the  three  British  commanders,  Lord \nPercy  was  the  only  one  who  displayed  any \nmilitary  ability.  He  showed  it  in  the  route \nwhich  he  chose  for  his  retreat.  From  Cam- \nbridge Common,  where  at  last  he  arrived, \nthe  road  to  Boston  was  long,  and  was  broken \nby  the  bridge  whose  difficult  passage  in \nthe  morning  he  remembered.  Therefore  he \navoided  it  —  and  wisely,  for  the  planks  of \nthe  bridge  were  up  again,  and  this  time  in \nuse  as  barricades,  while  the  militia  were \nready  for  him.  Instead,  Percy  shook  off \n1  Andrews  Letters. \n\n\n212  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nmany  of  his  waylayers,  and  saved  some  miles \nof  march,  by  taking  the  direct  road  to  Charles- \ntown.  Yet  even  this  route  was  hard  beset. \n\"I  stood  upon  the  hills  in  town,\"  says  An- \ndrews, \"and  saw  the  engagement  very  plain.\" \nMany  a  Whig  exulted  as  he  watched,  many \na  Tory  cursed,  at  the  sight  of  the  weary \nregulars  struggling  forward,  and  of  red  figures \nthat  dropped  and  lay  still.  Percy  was  barely \nin  time.  Had  the  men  of  Essex,  whose \nstrong  regiment  arrived  just  too  late,  been \nquick  enough  to  intercept  them,  and  reso- \nlute enough  to  throw  themselves  across  the \nretreat,  it  is  more  than  likely  that  Percy \nmust  have  surrendered,  for  his  ammunition \nwas  almost  gone.  The  exasperation  of  the \nAmericans  at  losing  their  prey  was  later \nexpressed  in  a  court-martial  of  the  Essex \ncolonel.  At  any  rate,  Percy  was  not  headed, \nand  the  regulars  at  last  streamed  across \nCharlestown  Neck,  to  find  protection  under \nthe  guns  of  the  fleet. \n\n\"  Thus,\"     grumbles      Lieutenant      Barker, \n\"ended   this    expedition,    which   from   begin- \n\n\nThe  Nineteenth  of  April  213 \n\nning  to  end  was  as  ill  plan'd  and  ill  executed \nas  it  was  possible  to  be.  .  .  .  For  a  few \ntrifling  Stores  the  Grenadiers  and  Light  In- \nfantry had  a  march  of  about  50  miles  (going \nand  returning)  and  in  all  human  probability \nmust  every  Man  have  been  cut  off  if  the \nBrigade  had  not  fortunately  come  to  their \nAssistance.\" \n\nSpeaking  for  the  reinforcing  brigade,  Lord \nPercy  confessed  that  he  had  learned  some- \nthing. \"Whoever  looks  upon  them  [the \nAmericans]  merely  as  an  irregular  mob  will \nfind  himself  much  mistaken.  They  have \nmen  among  them  who  know  very  well  what \nthey  are  about,  having  been  employed  as \nrangers  against  the  Indians  and  Arcadians. \n.  .  .  Nor  are  several  of  their  men  void  of  a \nspirit  of  enthusiasm,  ...  for  many  of  them \nconcealed  themselves  in  houses,  and  advanced \nwithin  ten  yards  to  fire  at  me  and  other \nofficers,  though  they  were  morally  certain  of \nbeing  put  to  death.  .  .  .  For  my  part  I \nnever  believed,  I  confess,  that  they  would \nhave  attacked  the  King's  troops,  or  have  had \n\n\n214  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nthe  perseverance  I  found  in  them  yester- \nday.\" 1 \n\nThis  was  the  day  which  Massachusetts \nnow  celebrates  as  Patriots'  Day.  Of  her  sons \nforty-nine  were  killed,  thirty-nine  were \nwounded,  and  five  were  taken  prisoners. \nBerniere's  figures  of  the  British  losses  are  73 \nkilled,  174  wounded,  and  26  missing.  The \ntotals,  for  a  day  more  important,  as  says \nBancroft,  than  Agincourt  or  Blenheim,  are \nvery  small.  But  the  significance  of  the  day \nwas  indeed  enormous.  Previously,  said  War- \nren, not  above  fifty  persons  in  the  province \nhad  expected  bloodshed,  and  the  ties  to \nEngland  were  still  strong.  Within  ten  weeks \nWarren  himself  had  written  of  England  as \n\"home.\"  After  this  day  there  was  no  turn- \ning back  from  bloodshed,  and  no  American \never  again  spoke  of  Britain  by  the  endearing \nname. \n\nAnd  the  military  situation  was  entirely \nchanged.  In  the  morning  Gage  was  still \nthe  nominal  governor  of  the  province,  free \n\n1  \"Memorial  History  of  Boston,\"  iii,  102. \n\n\nThe  Nineteenth  of  April  215 \n\nto  come  and  go  at  will.  At  night  he  looked \nout  upon  a  circle  of  hostile  camp-fires.  \"  From \na  plentiful  town,\"  says  Berniere  mournfully, \n\"we  were  reduced  to  the  disagreeable  neces- \nsity of  living  on  salt  provisions,  and  fairly \nblocked  up  in  Boston.\" \n\n\nCHAPTER  IX \n\nBOSTON    BELEAGUERED \n\nGAGE  and  his  army  were  at  first  sur- \nrounded by  a  mere  collection  of \nmilitia  companies.  As  the  pursuit \nceased  on  the  evening  of  the  iQth  the  baffled \nAmericans  withdrew  from  the  range  of  the \nguns  of  the  fleet.  As  well  as  they  could  they \ngathered  into  their  organizations  and  made \nsome  kind  of  a  camp,  sleeping  either  out  of \ndoors,  or  in  convenient  houses.  A  watch \nwas  set  at  Charlestown  Neck,  and  at  Rox- \nbury  Prescott  of  Pepperell  and  his  men  stood \non  guard  against  a  sortie.  The  circuit  be- \ntween these  points,  comprising  the  whole \nsweep  of  the  Charles  River  and  the  Back  Bay, \nwas  likewise  occupied.  Headquarters  were  at \nCambridge.  On  the  following  days  men  from \nthe  more  distant  towns  came  in,  until  before \nlong  the  minute  men  and  militia  from  the \n\n216 \n\n\nBoston  Beleaguered  217 \n\nadjoining  provinces,  New  Hampshire,  Rhode \nIsland,  and  Connecticut,  were  upon  the  ground. \n\nSome  of  the  records  are  striking.  The  men \nof  Nottingham,  New  Hampshire,  gathered  by \nnoon  of  the  2Oth  and,  after  being  joined \nby  men  of  the  neighboring  towns,  set  out \nat  two  o'clock.  \"At  dusk,\"  says  Bancroft, \n\"they  reached  Haverhill  Ferry,  a  distance  of \ntwenty-seven  miles,  having  run  rather  than \nmarched ;  they  halted  in  Andover  only  for \nrefreshments,  and,  traversing  fifty-five  miles \nin  less  than  twenty  hours,  by  sunrise  of  the \ntwenty-first  paraded  on  Cambridge  common.\"  l \n\nIsrael  Putnam,  working  on  his  farm  in \nBrooklyn,  Connecticut,  received  the  news  the \nmorning  after  the  fight  at  Concord.  He \nleft  his  work  at  once,  and,  mounting  a  horse, \nstarted  out  to  rouse  the  militia,  who,  upon \nmustering,  chose  him  leader.  As  his  idea  of \na  leader  was  one  who  went  in  front,  he  set \nout  at  once  for  Boston,  ordering  them  to \nfollow.  He  arrived  in  Cambridge  at  the \ntime  when  the  Nottingham  men  are  reported \n\n1  Bancroft,  iv,  535. \n\n\n21 8  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nas  parading,  \"having  ridden  the  same  horse \na  hundred  miles  in  eighteen  hours.\"  1 \n\nOthers  followed  in  similar  haste.  Among \nthem,  Benedict  Arnold  first  began  to  attract \nto  himself  public  notice.  Sabine  says  of  him, \n\"I  am  inclined  to  believe,  that  he  was  a  finished \nscoundrel  from  early  manhood  to  his  grave.\" \nNevertheless,  his  fiery  nature  kept  him  for  a \ntime  with  the  Americans,  and  at  the  very  out- \nset he  showed  his  independent  spirit,  having \ncharacteristically  refused  to  \"wait  for  proper \norders.\"  From  New  Hampshire  came  Stark, \nthe  hero  of  the  frontier  wars.  And  from  all  the \ntowns  came  the  militia  leaders,  who,  gathering \ntheir  companies  into  regiments,  began  the \nloose  organization  and  crude  subordination \nwhich  should  make  of  the  crowd  an  army. \n\nIn  all  this  convergence  of  the  militia  toward \nBoston,  there  was  one  side  current.  This  set \ntoward  Marshfield,  where  for  some  weeks  had \nbeen  a  detachment  of  regulars.  During  this \ntime  there  had  been  peace  in  the  town  but \nstrong  feeling  on  both  sides  —  Marshfield  had \n\n1  Bancroft,  iv,  536. \n\n\nBoston  Beleaguered  219 \n\nalready  produced  a  general  for  the  king,  and \nnow  was  about  to  give  one  to  the  provincials. \nThere  had  been  one  or  two  threatening  demon- \nstrations from  neighboring  towns,  which  now \nwere  repeated  in  earnest.  On  hearing  the \nnews  from  Lexington  and  Concord,  the  militia \nof  the  neighborhood  gathered  for  an  attack \non  the  regulars.  But  they  came  too  late. \nThe  British  were  embarking  at  Brant  Rock, \nhastened  by  the  signal  guns  of  the  Marsh- \nfield  men  from  a  neighboring  hill.  Yet \nthough  the  regulars  got  safely  away,  they \nleft  behind  them  the  three  hundred  muskets \nwith  which  the  Tory  militia  had  drilled,  and \nwhich  presently  formed  a  part  of  the  equip- \nment of  the  Whigs  before  Boston.  That \nequipment,  while  most  irregular,  was  not  to \nbe  despised.  By  the  22d  a  strong  army  cov- \nered all  land  approach  to  Gage,  who  began  to \nconsider  himself  between  two  fires. \nj  \"The  regulars  encamped,\"  says  one  British \naccount  of  the  Concord  expedition,  \"on  a \nplace  called  Bunker's  Hill.\"  1  There,  under \n\n1  \"Memorial  History  of  Boston,\"  iii,  15. \n\n\n22O  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nthe  guns  of  the  fleet,  the  tired  troops  found \nsafety ;  and  there,  for  all  that  any  one  can \nsee,  it  would  have  been  wise  of  Gage  to  leave \nthem.  With  Bunker  Hill  at  his  command, \nand  with  Dorchester  Heights  once  occupied \nby  his  forces,  Boston  would  be  safe  from  all \nattack  by  the  Americans  —  and  not  till  then. \n\nBut  on  the  next  morning  Gage  withdrew \nthe  troops  to  Boston.  As  a  matter  of  fact, \nhe  doubted  his  own  strength,  and  greatly \nexaggerated  the  power  of  the  rebels,  since  his \nfirst  sensation  was  a  dread  lest  the  town \nshould  rise  at  his  back,  and  his  army  be \ndestroyed.  Of  this  there  was  no  real  chance  at \nany  time.  Yet  he  drew  in  his  men  in  order \nto  make  himself  secure,  and  began  with  the \nselectmen  negotiations  looking  to  his  safety. \n\nThere  were  many  in  the  town  who  were \neager  to  leave  it,  and  many  outside  anxious \nto  come  in.  The  governor  made  the  rule \nthat  for  the  purpose  of  taking  out  family \neffects  but  thirty  wagons  might  enter  the \ntown  at  a  time.  The  ruling  drew  from  War- \nren the  following  very  characteristic  letter. \n\n\nBoston  Beleaguered  221 \n\nCAMBRIDGE,  April  20,  1775. \n\nSIR  :  —  The  unhappy  situation  into  which  this \ncolony  is  thrown  gives  the  greatest  uneasiness  to \nevery  man  who  regards  the  welfare  of  the  em- \npire, or  feels  for  the  distresses  of  his  fellow-men : \nbut  even  now  much  may  be  done  to  alleviate \nthose  misfortunes  which  cannot  be  entirely \nremedied ;  and  I  think  it  of  the  utmost  importance \nto  us,  that  our  conduct  be  such  as  that  the  con- \ntending parties  may  entirely  rely  upon  the  honor \nand  integrity  of  each  other  for  the  punctual  per- \nformance of  any  agreement  that  shall  be  made \nbetween  them.  Your  Excellency,  I  believe,  knows \nvery  well  the  part  I  have  taken  in  public  affairs  : \nI  ever  scorned  disguise.  I  think  I  have  done  my \nduty  :  some  will  think  otherwise ;  but  be  assured, \nsir,  as  far  as  my  influence  goes,  everything  which \ncan  reasonably  be  required  of  us  to  do  shall  be \ndone,  and  everything  promised  shall  be  religiously \nperformed.  I  should  now  be  very  glad  to  know \nfrom  you,  sir,  how  many  days  you  desire  may  be \nallowed  for  such  as  desire  to  remove  to  Boston \nwith  their  effects,  and  what  time  you  will  allow \nthe  people  in  Boston  for  their  removal.  When \nI  have  received  that  information,  I  will  repair  to \ncongress,  and  hasten,  as  far  as  I  am  able,  the \nissuing  a  proclamation.  I  beg  leave  to  suggest, \n\n\n222  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nthat  the  condition  of  admitting  only  thirty \nwagons  at  a  time  into  the  town  appears  to  me  to \nbe  very  inconvenient,  and  will  prevent  the  good \neffects  of  a  proclamation  intended  to  be  issued \nfor  encouraging  all  wagoners  to  assist  in  removing \nthe  effects  from  Boston  with  all  possible  speed. \nIf  Your  Excellency  will  be  pleased  to  take  the \nmatter  into  consideration,  and  favor  me,  as  soon  as \nmay  be,  with  an  answer,  it  will  lay  me  under  a  great \nobligation,  as  it  so  nearly  concerns  the  welfare  of  my \nfriends  in  Boston.  I  have  many  things  which  I \nwish  to  say  to  Your  Excellency,  and  most  sincerely \nwish  that  I  had  broken  through  the  formalities \nwhich  I  thought  due  to  your  rank,  and  freely  told \nyou  all  I  knew  or  thought  of  public  affairs ;  and \nI  must  ever  confess,  whatever  may  be  the  event, \nthat  you  generously  gave  me  such  opening,  as \nI  now  think  I  ought  to  have  embraced :  but \nthe  true  cause  of  my  not  doing  it  was  the \nvileness  and  treachery  of  many  persons  around \nyou,  who,  I  supposed,  had  gained  your  entire \nconfidence. \n\nI  am,  &c., \n\nJOSEPH  WARREN. \n\nHis  Excellency  General  Gage.1 \n\n1  Frothingham's  \"Warren,\"  467. \n\n\nBoston  Beleaguered  223 \n\nIn  striking  contrast  to  the  manly  regret \nexpressed  by  Warren  in  this  letter  is  the \nscene  enacted  that  afternoon  at  Cambridge, \nwhere  the  Committee  of  Safety  met.  Doctor \nBenjamin  Church,  one  of  the  trusted  leaders \nof  the  Whigs,  an  orator  on  the  Massacre,  and \na  pamphleteer,  was  a  member  of  the  com- \nmittee, for  which  Warren  had  recently  en- \ngaged Paul  Revere  as  messenger.  Revere \nwrites,  in  the  letter  already  quoted  :  \"I  was \nsitting  with  some,  or  near  all  that  commit- \ntee, in  their  room  ...  in  Cambridge.  Dr. \nChurch,  all  at  once,  started  up.  'Dr.  War- \nren,' said  he,  'I  am  determined  to  go \ninto  Boston  to-morrow.'  (It  set  them  all \na-staring.)  Dr.  Warren  replied:  'Are  you \nserious,  Dr.  Church  ?  They  will  hang  you \nif  they  catch  you  in  Boston.'  He  replied: \n'I  am  serious,  and  am  determined  to  go \nat  all  adventures.'  After  a  considerable \nconversation,  Dr.  Warren  said:  'If  you  are \ndetermined,  let  us  make  some  business  for  you.' \nThey  agreed  that  he  should  go  and  get  medicine \n\nfor  their  and  our  wounded  officers.\"  1 \n1  Revere's  narrative. \n\n\n224  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nChurch  was  the  first  American  traitor. \nAlthough  possessed  of  all  the  Whig  secrets, \nhe  had  for  some  months,  perhaps  longer, \nbeen  in  communication  with  Gage.  His  jour- \nney to  town  was  for  the  purpose  of  delivering \ninformation,  and  for  some  time  yet  he  managed \nto  carry  on  the  double  role.  Nevertheless  his \ninformation,  put  in  the  hands  of  Gage,  did \nno  harm.  It  throws  but  one  more  light  upon \nthe  incompetence  of  the  general  that,  with \nsuch  information  as  Church  now  gave  him,  he \nblundered  so  continually. \n\nWe  learn  from  John  Andrews'  letters  of \nthe  agreement  made  between  Gage  and  the \ntown.  \"Yesterday,\"  he  writes  on  the  24th, \n\"we  had  town  meetings  all  day,  and  finally \nconcluded  to  deliver  up  all  our  arms  to  the \nSelectmen,  on  condition  that  the  Governor \nwould  open  the  avenues  to  the  town.\"  In \nthis  agreement  the  townspeople  were  advised \nby  the  Committee  of  Safety  to  join.  Accord- \ningly, there  were  delivered  to  the  Selectmen, \nand  lodged  in  Faneuil  Hall,  \"1778  fire-arms, \n634  pistols,  978  bayonets,  and  38  blunder- \n\n\nBoston  Beleaguered  225 \n\nbusses.\" 1  These  were  marked  with  their \nowners'  names,  and  were  later  to  be  restored. \nAs  soon  as  this  delivery  of  arms  was  effected, \nhundreds  applied  for  passes  to  leave  the \ntown.  Andrews  must  have  reflected  the  feel- \nings of  many  when  he  wrote,  \"If  I  can  escape \nwith  the  skin  of  my  teeth,  shall  be  glad.\" \n\nThere  were  for  a  few  days  much  hurry \nand  bustle,  both  of  egress  and  of  ingress.  At \nfirst  as  many  as  wished  were  allowed  to  go \nout,  and  the  chief  difficulty  was  one  of  trans- \nportation. It  is  to  be  supposed  that  for  a \nwhile  the  admiral  kept  to  his  agreement  to \nlend  boats  to  the  refugees.  There  was  a  very \nconsiderable  exodus.  \"Near  half  the  inhab- \nitants,\" wrote  Andrews  on  May  6,  \"have  left \nthe  town  already,  and  another  quarter,  at \nleast,  have  been  waiting  for  a  week  past.\" \nAndrews  probably  exaggerated,  yet  hundreds \nof  the  better  class  went  out,  and  about  five \nthousand  of  the  poor.  These  latter  were \nquartered  among  the  different  towns  at  pub- \nlic expense. \n\n. 1  Frothingham's  \"Siege,\"  95. \n\n\n226  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nBut  the  outflow  from  Boston  was  speedily \nchecked.  On  the  6th  Andrews  was  still  in \nBoston,  and  making  up  his  mind  to  stay \non  account  of  his  property,  but  still  anxious \nto  secure  a  pass  for  his  wife,  whose  personal \nfears  —  she  was  an  aesthetic  person,  an  amateur \nartist  whose  landscapes  Lord  Percy  had  ad- \nmired —  were  greater  than  her  interest  in \nher  husband's  safety.  She  did  safely  get \naway,  amid  the  miserable  procession  that  her \nhusband  describes.  \"You'll  see  parents  that \nare  lucky  enough  to  procure  papers,  with \nbundles  in  one  hand  and  a  string  of  children \nin  another,  wandering  out  of  the  town  (with \nonly  a  sufferance  of  one  day's  permission)  not \nknowing  where  they'll  go.\"  Andrews'  wife \nwent  out  in  a  sailing  vessel,  but  whether  by \nland  or  by  water  she  was  one  of  the  last  to  go. \n\nThis  was  because  the  Tories  interfered  in \nthe  general  removal.  It  alarmed  them  to  see \nso  many  leave :  these  Whigs,  and  especially \nthose  of  good  social  position,  were  the  best \nhostages  for  the  safety  of  the  town  from \nassault.  So  they  made  vigorous  expression  of \n\n\nBoston  Beleaguered  227 \n\ntheir  discontent,  and  to  them  Gage  yielded. \nThey  had  already  formed  military  organiza- \ntions for  his  support,  and  when  they  threatened \nto  quit  the  town  and  seek  refuge  in  Canada \nor  London,  the  threat  was  too  much  for  him. \nRestrictions  were  at  once  put  upon  the  issu- \ning of  passes,  and  in  a  very  short  time  the \nconditions  imposed  were  so  severe  that  it  was \npractically  impossible  for  people  of  the  better \nclass  to  leave  the  town.  \"There  are  but  very \nfew,\"  wrote  Abigail  Adams,  \"who  are  per- \nmitted to  come  out  in  a  day;  they  delay \ngiving  passes,  make  them  wait  from  hour  to \nhour,  and  their  counsels  are  not  two  hours \ntogether'  alike.  One  day,  they  shall  come \nout  with  their  effects ;  the  next  day,  mer- \nchandise is  not  effects.  One  day,  their  house- \nhold furniture  is  to  come  out;  the  next,  only \nwearing  apparel ;  the  next,  Pharaoh's  heart  is \nhardened,  and  he  refuseth  to  hearken  to  them, \nand  will  not  let  the  people  go.\"  1  Neverthe- \nless the  poor  were  still  welcome  to  depart, \nand  from  time  to  time  were  even  sent  out  in \n\n1  \"Familiar  Letters  of  John  and  Abigail  Adams,\"  54. \n\n\n228  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\norder  to  relieve  Gage  of  the  necessity  of  feed- \ning them.1 \n\nDuring  this  period  a  number  of  Tories \ncame  to  Boston.  These  were  the  families  of \nmen  already  in  the  town,  or  were  others  who \nfelt  that,  though  until  the  present  their \nhomes  had  been  safe  for  them,  the  future  was \ntoo  doubtful.  They  hastened  to  put  the \nBritish  defences  between  them  and  the  Whigs. \nAmong  them  the  most  notable  was  Lady \nFrankland  of  Hopkinton,  who  once  had \nbeen  Agnes  Surriage,  the  barefooted  serving- \nmaid  of  the  tavern  at  Marblehead.  She  now \nwas  a  widow  of  nearly  fifty,  and  came  down \nfrom  Hopkinton  only  to  be  detained  before \nthe  lines,  and  made  the  subject  of  memoranda \nand  petitions.  The  lieutenant  who  detained \nher  person  was  reprimanded,  and  by  vote  of \nthe  provincial  congress  she  was  permitted  to \nenter  Boston  with  \"  seven  trunks ;  all  the \n\n1  Lieutenant  Barker  makes  a  suggestion  that  must \nhave  been  popular  among  the  officers.  \"I  wonder  the \n\nG 1  will  allow  any  of  their  people  to  quit  the  Town \n\ntill  they  return  the  Prisoners ;  one  wou'd  think  he  might \nget  'em  if  he'd  try.\" \n\n\nBoston  Beleaguered  229 \n\nbeds  with  the  furniture  to  them;  all  the \nboxes  and  crates ;  a  basket  of  chickens,  and \na  bag  of  corn ;  two  barrels  and  a  hamper ; \ntwo  horses  and  two  chaises,  and  all  the  articles \nin  the  chaise,  excepting  arms  and  ammuni- \ntion ;  one  phaeton ;  some  tongues,  ham,  and \nveal ;  and  sundry  small  bundles.\" 1  Evi- \ndently thinking  that  Lady  Frankland's  house- \nhold was  well  enough  supplied,  the  congress \ndid  not  allow  to  pass  her  seven  wethers  and \ntwo  pigs. \n\nThere  were  others  who  left  their  homes, \nthough  not  to  go  to  Boston.  Of  these  Judge \nCurwen  of  Salem  is  a  type.  He  was  con- \nsidered —  unjustly,  he  protests  —  as  a  Tory, \nand  finding  his  neighbors  daily  becoming \n\"more  and  more  soured  and  malevolent \nagainst  moderate  men,\"  he  left  Massachu- \nsetts. In  this  case  it  was  the  wife  who  re- \nmained behind,  \"her  apprehensions  of  danger \nfrom  an  incensed  soldiery,  a  people  licentious \nand  enthusiastically  mad  and  broken  loose \nfrom  all  the  restraints  of  law  and  religion, \n\n1  \"Memorial  History  of  Boston,\"  iii,  77. \n\n\n230  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nbeing  less  terrible  to  her  than  a  short  passage \non  the  ocean.\"  1  Curwen  went  to  Philadel- \nphia, but  finding  the  situation  the  same, \nproceeded  to  London  and  there  lived  out  the \nwar.  Many  others,  like  him,  repaired  to  the \ncapital,  and  formed  a  miserable  colony,  living \non  hope,  watching  the  news  from  home, \npensioned  or  grudgingly  maintained  by  the \ngovernment,  and  sadly  feeling  themselves \nstrangers  in  a  strange  land. \n\nWithout  doubt  the  times  were  very  hard \nfor  men  who,  like  Judge  Curwen,  wished \nto  take  no  side,  but  to  live  at  peace  with  all \nmen.  Of  such  men  there  was  a  very  large \nclass,  so  large  in  fact  that  more  than  one \nTory  sympathizer  has  claimed  that  the  Revo- \nlution was  fought  by  a  minority  of  the  people \nof  the  colonies,  who  were  so  virulent  as  to \nforce  the  moderates  into  their  ranks  from \ndread  of  personal  consequences.  Such  a  claim \nis  weak  upon  its  very  face,  and  will  not \nbear  examination.  Most  of  the  moderates \nwere  but  waiting  to  see  how  the  cat  would \n\n1  Curwen's  \"Journal,\"  25. \n\n\nBoston  Beleaguered  231 \n\njump,  and  when  once  a  preponderance  of \nsentiment  showed  they  speedily  took  sides. \nHad  there  been  in  the  colonies  a  majority \ndesirous  of  a  return  to  allegiance,  the  Whig \ncause  surely  could  not  have  survived  the  dark \ndays  of  the  war.  We  can  safely  conclude \nthe  majority  to  have  been  in  favor  of  the \nrights  of  the  colonies,  always  understanding \nthat  they  desired  nothing  more  than  they \nhad  always  had  since  the  accession  of  George \nthe  Third.  A  man  of  such  a  type  is  clearly \nseen  in  John  Andrews,  with  his  occasional \nfits  of  depression  and  doubt,  and  his  impatient \nexclamations  against  the  radicals  among  the \nWhigs.  Note,  for  instance,  what  he  says \non  the  death  of  William  Molineux,  one  of  the \nprominent  Boston  Whigs,  whose  death  was \na  loss  to  the  cause.  \"If  he  was  too  rash,\" \nremarked  Andrews,  \"and  drove  matters  to \nan  imprudent  pitch,  it  was  owing  to  his \nnatural  temper;  as  when  he  was  in  business, \nhe  pursued  it  with  the  same  impetuous  zeal. \nHis  loss  is  not  much  regretted  by  the  more \nprudent  and  judicious  part  of  the  community.\" \n\n\n232  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nYet  though  Andrews  could  thus  express \nhimself,  he  could  again  speak  quite  otherwise, \nas  the  remarks  quoted  in  this  book  have \nalready  shown.  He  doubted  at  times,  and \nwas  petulant  against  the  fortune  that  brought \nhim  discomfort  and  loss,  but  in  the  main  he \nwas  stanch.  Andrews  was,  then,  a  type  of \nthe  moderate  who  threw  in  his  lot  with  his \ncountry.  Judge  Curwen,  on  the  other  hand, \nwas  one  of  the  smaller  class  which,  in  doubt \nand  despair,  withdrew  to  the  protection  of \nthe  crown.  Many  of  them  were  too  old  to \nfight ;  many  had  not  the  heart  to  lift  their \nhands  against  their  neighbors.  Every  country \nsees  such  men  at  every  war.  Often  they \nmay  live  peaceably,  anguished  with  doubt, \nand  distressed  for  humanity.  But  in  a  civil \nwar  there  is  seldom  a  refuge  for  them.  It \nwas  certainly  so  at  the  Revolution.  A  very \nfew  among  the  Tories,  venerated  by  their \nneighbors,  might  remain  neutral ;  the  re- \nmainder must  take  sides,  or  go.  The  fight- \ning men  felt  that  those  who  were  not  with \nthem  were  against  them,  and  among  the  stay- \n\n\nBoston  Beleaguered  233 \n\nat-home  Whigs  were  plenty  who  were  willing \nto  express  the  feeling.  Hence  the  reproaches \nand  menaces  which  drove  Judge  Curwen \nfrom  his  home,  and  hence  the  doubtful  looks \nin  Philadelphia  which  made  him  \"fearful \nwhether,  like  Cain,  I  had  not  a  discouraging \nmark  upon  me,  or  a  strong  feature  of  toryism.\" \nCurwen  crossed  the  water,  and  other  mod- \nerates slipped  into  Boston,  to  find  themselves \nas  unhappy  within  the  town  as  they  had \nbeen  outside,  in  spite  of  the  strength  which \nGage  was  slowly  gaining. \n\nThis  strength  was,  so  far,  purely  defensive. \nGage  did  not  consider  himself  ready  to  take \nthe  offensive.  Those  Tories  who  came  to  town \ninformed  him  of  the  numbers  outside,  and \nhe  saw  very  plainly  the  result  of  sending  an \nexpedition  against  a  militia  which  would \nmelt  before  the  head  of  his  column,  only  to \nattack  it  in  flank  and  rear.  So  no  action \nwas  considered,  especially  as  the  rebels  offered, \nso  far,  nothing  to  strike  at.  Gage  made  him- \nself as  strong  as  he  could,  and  waited  rein- \nforcements. \n\n\n234  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nHis  strength  was  partly,  as  we  have  seen, \nin  the  organization  of  the  Tories.  Their \nmen  began  at  once  to  form  themselves  in \ncompanies,  under  the  general  leadership  of \nTimothy  Ruggles,  who  had  long  been  a  politi- \ncal tower  of  strength,  and  was  now  assuming \nmilitary  importance.  The  new  volunteer  com- \npanies were,  as  we  have  seen,  of  such  value \nto  Gage  that  they  were  able  to  make  him \nbreak  his  promise  to  let  the  townspeople  leave \nBoston.  Yet  so  far  as  is  known  they  did  noth- \ning more  in  the  siege  than  to  parade  and  mount \nguard. \n\nGage's  chief  attention  was  directed  to  for- \ntifying. His  situation  was  easily  defensible \nat  certain  points,  and  of  them  he  first  made \nsure.  At  the  south,  across  the  passage  to \nRoxbury,  were  the  \"lines\"  of  which  all  con- \ntemporary accounts  speak.  These  Gage \nstrengthened  until  by  the  4th  of  May  Lieu- \ntenant Barker  records  that  the  works  were \nalmost  ready  for  ten  twenty-four-pounders. \nFrom  the  Neck  the  western  line  of  the  penin- \nsula of  Boston  ran  in  a  general  northerly \n\n\nBoston  Beleaguered \n\n\n23S \n\n\nPLAN  OF  THE  SIEGE \n\n\n236  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\ndirection  for  about  a  mile  and  a  half ;  it  then \nran  east  for  nearly  a  mile  ;  then  turning  south, \nit  finally  swept  inward  to  the  Neck.  The  out- \nline had  three  projections,  each  caused  by  a \nhill :  Barton's  Point  at  the  northwest ;  Copp's \nHill  at  the  northeast;  and  Fort  Hill  on  the \nmiddle  of  the  eastern  side.  Each  of  these  was \nfortified  as  soon  as  possible.  The  four  points \nwere  Gage's  main  defences. \n\nWhen  these  forts  were  finished,  the  town \nwas  by  no  means  secure.  The  forts  com- \nmanded most  of  the  northerly  and  easterly \nsides,  of  which  the  war-ships  commanded \nthe  remainder ;  but  the  whole  western  side \nof  the  town,  along  the  Common  and  the  foot \nof  Beacon  Hill,  was  open  to  attack.  This \nwas,  roughly  speaking,  along  the  line  of  the \npresent  Charles  Street,  prolonged  into  Tre- \nmont  Street.  The  Back  Bay  beyond  this \nwater-line  was  so  shallow  that  no  war-ship \ncould  anchor  there ;  a  night  attack,  delivered \nin  boats,  might  surprise  the  soldiers  on  the \nCommon  in  their  barracks  or  their  tents. \nIn  order  to  command  the  western  shore, \n\n\nBoston  Beleaguered  237 \n\nand  also  to  quell  a  possible  rising  in  the  town, \nGage  erected  a  \"small  work\"  on  Beacon  Hill. \nLater  in  the  siege  every  one  of  these  points \nwas  strengthened ;  a  low  hill,  near  the  present \nLouisburg  Square,  was  protected;  and  re- \ndoubts were  thrown  up  to  defend  the  shore- \nline of  the  Common.  But  the  four  main \nworks,  and  the  Beacon  Hill  fort,  were  all \nthat  Gage  was  able  to  accomplish  before \nBunker  Hill  battle.  He  managed,  however, \nto  put  his  army  under  strict  military  disci- \npline, which  before  the  I9th  of  April  he  had \nnot  imposed  on  them. \n\nFrom  letters  and  diaries  we  get  glimpses \nof  the  situation  of  the  troops.  They  were \nshort  of  fresh  provision,  disgusted  with  their \nsituation,  and  at  times  not  a  little  alarmed. \nWhat  other  unexpected  qualities  the  Yankees \nmight  show  no  one  could  predict.  They \nwere  still,  however,  regarded  as  low  in  the \nscale  of  humanity.  On  the  fifth  of  May \nLieutenant  Barker  records  the  discovery  of \na  \"most  shocking\"  plot.  \"It  was  a  scheme \nto  cut  off  all  the  officers  of  the  Garrison. \n\n\n238  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nUpon  the  24th,  the  day  we  were  to  keep  St. \nGeorge's  day,  the  Rebels  were  to  make  a \nfeint  Attack  at  night  upon  the  Lines  :  a  num- \nber of  men  were  to  be  posted  at  the  Lodgings \nof  all  the  Officers,  and  upon  the  Alarm  Guns \nfiring  they  were  to  put  the  Officers  to  death \nas  they  were  coming  out  of  their  houses  to \ngo  to  their  Barracks.  What  a  set  of  Villains \nmust  they  be  to  think  of  such  a  thing  !  but \nthere  is  nothing  be  it  ever  so  bad  that  these \npeople  will  stick  at  to  gain  their  ends.\"  The \nhorrified  lieutenant  ascribes  to  this  dis- \ncovery the  fact  that  Gage  ordered  the  officers \nto  sleep  at  barracks.  It  is,  however,  more \nlikely  that  the  general  paid  no  attention  to \nthe  tale,  but  thought  it  time  for  officers  and \nmen  to  be  together. \n\nOnce  more  the  army  was  shocked.  A  fire \nbroke  out  near  property  owned  by  Hancock, \nand  in  putting  out  the  blaze  there  was  dis- \ncovered a  chest  of  bullets  \"in  Hancock's \nstore.\"  The  news  spread  rapidly,  and  was \nregarded  as  another  proof  of  the  desperate \nnature  of  the  Whigs. \n\n\nBoston  Beleaguered  239 \n\nSo  the  army,  uncomfortable  and  uneasy, \nlooked  for  its  reinforcements,  which  before \nlong  began  to  come  in.  Troop-ships  arrived, \nbut  the  most  welcome  was  the  Cerberus,  with \nthe  three  major-generals.  The  relief  of  the \ngarrison  found  expression  in  waggery ;  they \ncalled  the  generals  the  three  bow-wows,  and \ncirculated  the  doggerel :  — \n\n\"Behold  the  Cerberus  the  Atlantic  plow, \nHer  precious  cargo  Burgoyne,  Clinton,  Howe, \nBow  wow  wow  ! \" \n\nBurgoyne  at  this  time  made  a  special  nick- \nname for  himself.  Hailing  a  ship  as  they \nentered  the  harbor,  the  generals  learned  that \nthe  army  was  shut  up  by  the  provincials. \n\"What!\"  cried  Burgoyne.  \"Ten  thousand \npeasants  keep  five  thousand  king's  troops  shut \nup  !  Well,  let  us  get  in,  and  we'll  soon  find \nelbow-room!\"1  And  Elbow-room  was  Bur- \ngoyne's  name  for  a  long  time  thereafter. \n\nYet  the  three  new  generals  for  a  while  did \nnothing.  Lieutenant  Barker  regretfully  re- \n\n1  Current  newspapers,  quoted  in  Frothingham's \n\"Siege,\"  114. \n\n\n240  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\ncords :  \"Tho'  we  have  new  Generals  come \nout,  yet  they  have  brought  no  more  authority \nthan  we  had  before,  which  was  none  at  all.\" \nIt  is  safe  to  assume  that  on  learning  the \nquality  of  the  \"peasants,\"  Burgoyne  was  not \nanxious  to  attack  them  with  an  inferior  force. \nThe  British  therefore  continued  to  await \nreinforcements. \n\nFrom  Burgoyne's  voluminous  correspond- \nence we  learn  his  state  of  mind.  He  had  come \nto  the  country  unwillingly :  \"  I  received  your \nMajesty's  commands  for  America  with  regret,\" \nhe  wrote  in  his  letter  to  the  king,  and  else- \nwhere records  that  the  event  was  one  of  the \nmost  disagreeable  in  his  life.  Nevertheless, \nonce  enlisted  in  the  campaign,  he  had  thrown \nhimself  into  it.  Perceiving  in  advance  how \nlittle,  as  junior  major-general,  he  would  have \nto  do,  he  endeavored  to  have  himself  trans- \nferred to  the  post  at  New  York,  where  he \nrightly  perceived  that  there  was  much  to  be \ndone.  He  was  in  favor  of  attempting  con- \nciliation. Had  that  post  at  this  time  been \noccupied  by  Burgoyne,  his  quick  wit,  true \n\n\nBoston  Beleaguered  241 \n\nsympathies  with  the  Americans,  and  real \nabilities  might  have  made  for  him  a  different \nname  in  the  history  of  America.  But  his \nattempt  failed,  and  now,  almost  inactive  in \nhis  post  at  Boston,  he  was  studying  the  situa- \ntion, probing  the  weakness  of  Gage  and  learn- \ning the  difficulties  of  his  position.  Gage  had \nlittle  money  for  secret  service,  it  is  true,  and \nthe  provincials  were  stubborn  foes  whose  true \nmeasure  Burgoyne  had  not  yet  taken,1  but \nhe  saw  how  poorly  Gage  had  provided  against \nthe  calamities  which  had  come  upon  him. \nBurgoyne  doubted  the  outcome,  and  fretted \nat  the  situation. \n\nIn  the  meanwhile  the  rebels  had  been  work- \ning to  make  that  situation  worse.  Their \nfirst  need  was  to  get  some  semblance  of  order \namong  the  troops.  At  the  head  of  the  Massa- \nchusetts army  was  Artemas  Ward,  a  veteran \nof  the  French  wars,  no  longer  vigorous,  and \n\n1  \"There  was  hardly  a  leading  man  among  the \nrebels,  in  council,  or  in  the  field,  but  at  a  proper \ntime,  and  by  proper  management,  might  have  been \nbought.\" — BURGOYNE  to  Lord  Rochfort,  June,  1775. \nFonblanque's  \"  Burgoyne,\"  149-1 50. \n\n\n242  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nnever  used  to  independent  command.  He \ndrew  his  authority  from  the  Provincial  Con- \ngress of  Massachusetts,  which  now  hastily \ncame  together,  and  communicated  with  Ward \nchiefly  through  the  Committee  of  Safety,  of \none  of  whose  meetings  we  have  already  had  a \nglimpse.  The  active  head  of  the  committee \nwas  Warren,  who  kept  in  close  touch  with \nWard. \n\nOrganization  proceeded  slowly,  complicated \nby  the  fact  that  the  other  provinces  main- \ntained separate  armies.  The  names  of  some \nof  the  commanders  are  still  familiar.  Put- \nnam and  Spencer  were  the  heads  of  the  Con- \nnecticut troops ;  John  Stark  was  prominent \namong  the  New  Hampshire  men ;  while  to \ncommand  the  Rhode  Islanders  came  Na- \nthanael  Greene.  With  praiseworthy  suppres- \nsion of  provincial  jealousies  the  commanders \nspeedily  agreed  to  subordinate  themselves  to \nWard,  as  the  oldest  among  them,  and  the \nhead  of  the  largest  body  of  troops.  He  was \nregarded  as  commander-in-chief,  and  his \norders  were  to  be  observed  by  all.  Yet  the \n\n\nBoston  Beleaguered  243 \n\nmeans  to  communicate  orders  and  to  receive \nreports  were  long  lacking.  The  combined \narmies  were  far  from  being  a  unit,  and  if \nattacked  could  resist  little  better  than  on \nthe  I9th,  as  scattered  bands,  and  not  as  a \nwhole. \n\nThe  very  size  of  the  army  was  uncertain. \nOn  paper  there  were  more  than  twenty  thou- \nsand men ;  as  a  matter  of  fact  there  can \nseldom  have  been  more  than  four-fifths  of \nthat  number.  Of  the  actual  total  Massa- \nchusetts provided  11,500,  Connecticut  2300, \nNew  Hampshire  1200,  Rhode  Island  looo.1 \nFurther,  in  its  variable  size  this  was  the  very \ntype  of  a  volunteer  army,  of  which  every \nman  owned  his  equipment,  clothed  himself, \nand  considered  himself  still,  to  a  large  ex- \ntent, his  own  master.  Of  the  thousands  living \nwithin  twenty-five  miles  of  Boston,  who \nsprang  to  arms  on  the  iQth,  knowing  that  if \nthey  were  quick  they  might  strike  the  Brit- \nish before  night,  few  had  the  foresight  to \nprepare  themselves  properly  for  the  cam- \n\n1  Frothingham's  \"Siege,\"  101. \n\n\n244  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\npaign  that  was  to  follow.  There  were  no  com- \nmissary stores  to  supply  them.  Their  affairs \nat  home  they  left  just  where  they  stood.  In \nthe  next  few  days  many  of  these  men  went \nhome,  for  the  necessary  arrangement  of  their \naffairs  and  for  more  clothing.  The  larger \nnumber  of  them  returned  to  camp  imme- \ndiately, some  were  slower,  and  yet  others \nstayed  for  a  longer  time.  Even  those  who \njoined  the  army  after  more  preparation  often \nhad  business  that  called  them  home,  in  which \ncase  they  considered  it  a  hardship  to  be \ndenied.  The  officers  sympathized,  especially \nwhen  that  business  was  haying.  Cases  oc- \ncurred in  which  the  men  on  furlough  were \nmaking  their  officers'  hay,  while  at  the  same \ntime  drawing  the  pay  of  the  province.  The \nposition  of  the  general  commanding  such \ntroops  was  not  to  be  envied. \n\nFurther,  military  supplies  were  very  few. \nIn  spite  of  the  preparations  of  the  provincial \ncongress,  there  were  on  hand  only  sixty- \neight  half-barrels  of  powder,  a  scanty  stock \nwith  which  to  begin  the  siege  of  a  military \n\n\nBoston  Beleaguered  H&  Ontario \n\n\ngarrison.  Of  cannon  a  varying  number  is \nreported,  few  of  them  as  yet  of  value,  for \nlack  of  shot  to  fit  them.  It  was  doubtless  a \ngreat  relief  to  Ward  that  he  was  not  called \nupon  to  use  his  cannon,  since  they  would \nhave  drawn  too  heavily  upon  his  scanty \nsupply  of  ammunition,  which  could  be  re- \nplaced but  slowly. \n\nAltogether,  the  position  of  senior  major- \ngeneral  was  a  difficult  one.  To  knit  into  an \narmy  such  a  mass  of  units,  to  create  supplies \nout  of  nothing,  to  organize  a  commissary  and \nmeans  of  communication,  and  maintain  a  firm \nfront  over  a  line  of  ten  miles,  these  were  the \nneeds  of  the  situation.  We  need  scarcely \nmarvel  that  Ward,  old  and  enfeebled,  with \nhis  hands  tied  by  uncertain  authority,  could \nnot  meet  them.  A  genius  was  needed  in  his \nplace,  and  the  good  fortune  was  that  the \ngenius  eventually  came.  In  the  meanwhile \nWard,  pottering  at  his  task,  depended  much \non  the  initiative  of  his  subordinates.  The \npassage  from  the  Neck  to  Roxbury  was  now \nguarded  by  Brigadier-General  John  Thomas \n\n\n246  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nof  Marshfield,1  who  to  deceive  the  enemy  as \nto  his  numbers  occasionally  marched  his  force \nof  seven  hundred  round  and  round  a  hill. \nThe  ruse  was  successful,  for  Lieutenant  Bar- \nker wrote  that  \"at  Roxbury  there  must  be \nbetween  2  and  3000.\"  Nevertheless,  it  is \nhard  to  believe  that  so  important  a  post \nwas  long  left  so  slightly  guarded.  Thomas \nexercised  his  men  with  equal  profit  in  cutting \ndown  trees  to  obstruct  the  passage,  and  in \nthrowing  up  earthworks.  Of  other  entrench- \nments, at  this  stage,  we  hear  little.  Putnam \nwanted  to  fortify  Prospect  Hill,  commanding \nthe  passage  from  Charlestown  Neck,  but  could \nnot  get  permission.  Yet  the  whole  country \nabout  Boston  was  dotted  with  low  hills,  on \nwhich  might  easily  be  made  a  chain  of  forti- \nfications. \n\nBesides    such    work    as    Thomas's,    for    a \n\n1  \"And  yet  to-day,  if  you  should  ask  ten  Boston  men, \n'Who  was  Artemas  Ward  ?'  nine  would  say  he  was  an \namusing  showman.  If  you  asked  'Who  was  John \nThomas  ?'  nine  would  say  he  was  a  flunky  commemo- \nrated by  Thackeray.\" — E.  E.  HALE,  \"Memorial  History \nof  Boston,\"  iii,  100. \n\n\nBoston  Beleaguered  247 \n\nmonth  little  was  done.  To  be  sure,  early  in \nMay  a  party  of  provincials,  gathered  in  Con- \nnecticut and  Vermont,  and  headed  by  Ethan \nAllen  and  Benedict  Arnold,  took  Ticonderoga \nby  surprise,  and  gained  for  America  a  fine \nsupply  of  cannon.  We  shall  later  see  what \nwas  done  with  this  artillery,  but  there  was  no \npresent  means  of  transporting  it  to  Boston, \nand  no  powder  for  its  use,  and  so  there  was \nno  profit  to  the  country  save  in  encourage- \nment. Until  the  2ist  of  May  nothing  hap- \npened near  Boston  save  small  skirmishes,  and \nbrushes  of  outposts.  Here  and  there  a  float- \ning battery  of  the  British  warped  up  near \nland  and  fired  a  few  shots,  and  occasionally  a \nsquad  of  riflemen  did  a  little  pot-hunting  on \nits  own  account.  These  skirmishes,  except \nas  they  accustomed  the  provincials  to  the \nsmell  of  powder,  had  no  effect  on  the  situa- \ntion, until  at  last  the  opposing  sides  found \nthat  they  had  something  worth  contending \nfor. \n\nGage  had   in   Boston   no   supply  of  fresh \nmeat,  but  plenty  of  horses  needing  hay.     It \n\n\n248  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\noccurred  to  him,  finally,  that  the  islands  iri \nthe  harbor  were  plentifully  stocked  with  sheep \nand  cattle,  and  besides  grew  plenty  of  grass. \nHe  sent,  therefore,  on  the  2ist  of  May,  a \nparty  to  bring  hay  from  Grape  Island,  near \nWeymouth.  The  Americans  took  the  alarm, \nsoldiers  were  sent  from  the  camp,  the  militia \nwho  were  at  home  turned  out,  and  much \nlong-range  shooting  was  indulged  in.  \"It \nwas  impossible  to  reach  them,  for  want  of \nboats,\"  wrote  Abigail  Adams,  \"but  the  sight \nof  so  many  persons,  and  the  firing  at  them, \nprevented  their  getting  more  than  three  tons \nof  hay,  though  they  carted  much  more  down \nto  the  water.  At  last  a  lighter  was  mustered, \nand  a  sloop  from  Hingham,  which  had  six \nport  holes.  Our  men  eagerly  jumped  on \nboard,  and  put  off  for  the  island.  As  soon  as \nthey  perceived  it,  they  decamped.  Our  people \nlanded  upon  the  island,  and  in  an  instant  set \nfire  to  the  hay,  which,  with  the  barn,  was  soon \nconsumed,  —  about  eighty  tons,  it  is  said.\" \n\nEmboldened   by   this   success,    the   provin- \ncials began  to  take  steps  to  remove  from  the \n\n\nBoston  Beleaguered  249 \n\nislands  the  whole  stock  of  cattle,  sheep,  and \nhay.  Though,  on  the  25th  of  May,  the  gar- \nrison of  Boston  was  largely  reinforced  and \nships  were  added  to  the  squadron,  the  Ameri- \ncans began  work  boldly  with  the  islands \nnearest  at  hand.  Noddle's  Island,  now  East \nBoston,  stretched  within  easy  cannon  shot  of \nthe  town ;  it  was  reached  from  Hog  Island \nby  means  of  a  couple  of  fords,  passable  at \nlow  tide.  In  broad  day,  on  the  27th,  the \nAmericans  occupied  the  islands,  and  were \npromptly  assailed  by  the  British  in  a  schooner \nand  a  sloop.  The  skirmish  grew  very  obsti- \nnate, but  the  schooner  was  left  by  the  fleet  to \nfight  it  out  by  her  own  means  and  those  of  her \nsmaller  consort.  As  a  result,  when  she  ran \naground  she  was  seized,  stripped,  and  burned. \nOn  this  day  the  Americans  drove  off  the \nstock  on  Hog  Island,  which,  with  their  cap- \nture of  the  schooner,  was  considered  a  great \nachievement.  Three  days  later  the  stock \nwas  driven  from  Noddle's  Island  :  \"a  trifling \nproperty,\"  says  Lieutenant  Barker,  \"which \nwe  have  no  connexion  with.\"  This  non- \n\n\n250  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nchalant  dismissal  of  five  hundred  sheep  and \nlambs  1  scarcely  comes  well  from  one  who  had \nrecently  recorded  that  his  mess  had  \"luckily \ngot  a  Sheep.\"  Within  a  week  other  large \nislands,  which  the  army  and  the  fleet  might \nnaturally  have  regarded  as  their  own  store- \nhouses, were  stripped  of  livestock  and  hay. \nBy  these  means  the  Americans  were  made \nstill  more  used  to  war,  and  according  to  con- \ntemporary accounts  acted  boldly,  running \nconsiderable  risks.  The  total  of  stock  saved \nby  this  means  was  about  twenty-two  hundred, \nand  the  loss  of  life  trifling. \n\nBut  the  time  was  coming  for  more  serious \nwork.  Gage  felt  his  courage  rise  with  his \nstrength,  and  with  his  major-generals  to  back \nhim  he  planned  action.  But  first  he  had  to \nfulminate.  Much  irritation  had  been  caused \nby  mock  proclamations  mysteriously  appear- \ning on  the  walls  of  the  residences  of  the  new \ngenerals,  and  Gage  now  determined  to  issue \none  in  earnest.  He  called  Burgoyne  to  his \naid,  and  the  literary  general  drafted  a  master- \n\n1  Frothingham's  \"Siege,\"  no. \n\n\nBoston  Beleaguered  251 \n\npiece.  It  was  published  on  the  I2th  of \nJune. \n\nBeginning  \"Whereas  the  infatuated  multi- \ntudes,\" it  proceeded  in  pompous  style  to  the \nstatement  that  the  rebels  were  adding  \"insult \nto  outrage,\"  for  \"with  a  preposterous  parade  of \nmilitary  arrangement,  they  affected  to  hold  the \narmy  besieged.\"  Gage  offered  to  pardon  all \nwho  would  lay  down  their  arms,  except  Samuel \nAdams  and  John  Hancock,  \"whose  offences \nare  of  too  flagitious  a  nature\"  for  forgiveness. \n\nThe  bombastic  proclamation  delighted  the \nTories,  who  hoped  for  results  from  it.  But \nit  deeply  angered  the  Americans.  \"All  the \nrecords  of  time,\"  wrote  Abigail  Adams,1 \n\"cannot  produce  a  blacker  page.  Satan, \nwhen  driven  from  the  regions  of  bliss,  ex- \nhibited not  more  malice.  Surely  the  father \nof  lies  is  superseded.\"  The  provincial  con- \ngress prepared  a  counter  proclamation,  which \nsimilarly  offered  annesty  to  all  on  the  other \nside,  \"excepting  only  .  .  .  Thomas  Gage, \nSamuel  Graves,  those  counsellors  who  were \n\n1  Adams  Letters,  p.  64. \n\n\n252  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nappointed  by  Mandamus  and  have  not \nsignified  their  resignation,  Jonathan  Sewall, \nCharles  Paxton,  Benjamin  Hallowell,1  and \nall  the  natives  of  America  who  went  out  with \nthe  British  troops  on  the  I9th  of  April.\" \nWe  get  from  this  an  interesting  glimpse  of \nthose  who  most  excited  American  resentment, \nbut  the  proclamation  was  never  issued.  More \nexciting  events  occurred  to  prevent  it. \n\nGage  was  planning  to  make  himself  secure \nin  Boston.  Even  he  could  not  fail  to  see \nthat  the  heights  of  Charlestown  and  of  Dor- \nchester threatened  his  army.  Now  that  his \nthree  major-generals  had  come,  and  that \nhis  reinforcements  were  arriving  (the  troop- \nships, said  Lieutenant  Barker,  were  \"con- \ntinually dropping  in  \"),  he  felt  strong  enough \nto  take  and  hold  the  dangerous  posts.  His \nplan  was  first  to  seize  Dorchester  Heights,  and \nfor  the  action  was  set  a  date  —  the  night  of \nthe  eighteenth  of  June.  But  Gage's  counsel \n\n1  Graves  was  the  admiral,  Sewall  the  attorney- \ngeneral,  and  Paxton  and  Hallowell  were  commissioners \nof  customs. \n\n\nBoston  Beleaguered  253 \n\nwas  never  well  kept.  While  Burgoyne  com- \nplained that  the  British  \"are  ignorant  not \nonly  of  what  passes  in  Congress,  but  want \nspies  for  the  hill  half  a  mile  off,\"  the  Ameri- \ncans were  in  no  such  embarrassment.  They \nhad  spies  at  every  corner,  and  —  we  may \nsuppose  —  listeners  at  many  a  door.  Gage \nhad  already  arrested  men  supposed  to  have \nbeen  signalling  from  steeples.  We  do  not \nknow  how  the  news  got  through  on  this \noccasion ;  at  any  rate  the  Americans  were \ninformed  as  early  as  the  13th.1 \n\nThe  chiefs  of  the  provincial  army  felt  that \nthey  were  called  upon  to  act.  In  the  seven \nweeks  of  the  siege  they  had  to  some  degree \ntested  the  mettle  of  their  men,  and  now  be- \nlieved they  could  be  depended  on  to  keep \ntogether  against  an  attack.  The  troops  had, \non  one  occasion,  made  an  expedition  to \nCharlestown,  which  lay  practically  deserted  on \nits  peninsula,  as  if  conscious  of  the  fate  which \nwas  to  overtake  it.  On  the  I3th  of  May, \nPutnam,  to  give  his  men  confidence,  marched \n\n1  Frothingham's  \"Siege,\"  116. \n\n\n254  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nhis  command,  some  twenty-two  hundred  men, \ninto  the  town,  over  Bunker  and  Breed's  Hills, \nwhere  some  of  them  were  soon  to  lay  down \ntheir  lives,  along  the  water-front  close  by  the \nBritish  shipping,  and  out  of  the  town  once \nmore.  \"It  was,\"  wrote  Lieutenant  Barker, \n\"expected  the  Body  at  Charles  Town  wou'd \nhave  fired  on  the  Somerset,  at  least  it  was \nwished  for,  as  she  had  everything  ready  for \nAction,  and  must  have  destroyed  great  num- \nbers of  them,  besides  putting  the  Town  in \nAshes.\"  But  no  powder  was  burned. \nI  Now  it  was  destined  that  Charlestown \nshould  smell  powder  enough.  On  learning \nthe  news  of  Gage's  projected  move,  the \nCommittee  of  Safety  called  for  an  accounting \nof  the  condition  and  supplies  of  the  various \nregiments,  advised  an  increase  in  the  army, \nrecommended  that  all  persons  go  armed, \neven  to  church,  and  finally  on  the  1 5th  of \nJune  took  the  decisive  step  of  advising  the \nseizure  of  Bunker  Hill.  \"And  as  the  par- \nticular situation  of  Dorchester  Neck  is  un- \nknown to  this  Committee,  they  advise  that \n\n\nBoston  Beleaguered  255 \n\nthe  council  of  war  take  and  pursue  such \nsteps  respecting  the  same,  as  to  them  shall \nappear  to  be  for  the  security  of  this  colony.\" \nThus  inadequate  was  still  the  American \nmilitary  organization :  Ward  was  too  old  and \ntoo  weak  to  assume  actual  leadership,  and \nwe  find  two  consultative  bodies  advising  each \nother,  with  no  responsible  head.  Up  to  this \ntime  the  Massachusetts  congress  had  hoped \nthat  the  second  Continental  Congress,  now \nin  session  in  Philadelphia,  would  adopt  the \narmy  as  its  own  and  send  it  a  general ;  but  so \nfar  no  answer  had  come  to  their  requests. \nNevertheless,  even  with  this  deficient  or- \nganization something  was  effected.  A  de- \ntachment was  made  up,  consisting  on  paper \nof  fifteen  hundred  men,  but  in  fact  of  about \ntwelve  hundred.  These  were  placed  under \nthe  command  of  Colonel  William  Prescott  of \nPepperell,  a  veteran  of  Louisburg  and  an  ex- \ncellent soldier.  Assembling  on  Cambridge \nCommon  on  the  night  of  the  i6th,  \"after \nprayer  by  President  Langdon,  they  marched \nto  Bunker  Hill.\"  1 \n\n1  Inscription  in  Cambridge. \n\n\nCHAPTER  X \n\nTHE    BATTLE    OF    BUNKER    HILL \n\nTHE  strategy  of  Bunker  Hill  battle  has \nbeen  criticised  as  often  as  the  battle \nhas  been  described.  We  have  already \nseen  that  the  choice  of  Charlestown  instead \nof  Dorchester  was  owing  to  ignorance,  on \nthe  part  of  the  Committee  of  Safety,  of  the \nadvantages  of  the  latter.  From  Dorchester \nHeights  the  town  could  equally  well  have \nbeen  threatened,  the  shipping  more  effec- \ntively annoyed,  reinforcements  more  safely \nsummoned,  and  retreat  much  better  secured. \nNevertheless,  since  at  this  stage  the  British \nmight  have  taken  any  fortification,  it  is  for- \ntunate that  the  Americans  chose  as  they \ndid,  and  left  Dorchester  for  a  later  attempt. \nPrescott's  party  of  twelve  hundred  marched \nin  silence  to  Charlestown,  and  on  the  lower \nslope  of  Bunker  Hill  the  men  rested  for  some \n\n256 \n\n\nThe  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill          257 \n\ntime  while  the  officers  discussed  the  situation. \nOn  the  ground  were  Prescott,  Putnam,  and \n\"another  general,\"1  with  Colonel  Richard \nGridley,  the  chief  engineer.  Their  discussion \nwas  as  to  the  proper  point  to  fortify. \n\nThe  peninsula  of  Charlestown,  as  has  al- \nready been  said,  stretched  toward  Boston \nfrom  the  northwest.  The  approach  to  it \nwas  by  a  narrow  neck  of  land,  on  one  side  of \nwhich,  the  northeast,  ran  the  Mystic  River; \nwhile  on  the  southwesterly  side  was  an  inlet \nfrom  the  Charles.  The  town,  a  settlement \nof  several  houses,  was  on  the  bulge  of  the \npeninsula  nearest  Boston ;  but  along  the \nMystic  rose  a  series  of  three  hills,  from  the \nlowest  at  Morton's  or  Moulton's  Point,  to \nthe  highest  at  Bunker  Hill.  Morton's  Hill \nwas  35  feet  high,  Breed's,  in  the  centre,  was  75 \nfeet,  and  Bunker's  was  no.  The  question \narose,  should  Bunker  Hill  be  fortified,  as  in \nthe  orders,  or  Breed's,  which  was  nearer \nBoston  and  the  shipping  ? \n\nMuch  time   was    spent    in    the  discussion. \n\n1  Frothingham's  \"  Siege,\"  123. \n\n\n258  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nBunker  Hill  was  higher  and  the  safer,  and  com- \nmanded most  landing  points ;  but  Breed's  Hill \nseemed  better  suited  to  the  eager  spirits  of  the \nofficers.  When  at  last  Gridley  reminded  that \ntime  was  passing,  the  question  seems  to  have \nbeen  decided  by  the  urgency  of  the  unknown \ngeneral,  and  a  redoubt  was  laid  out  by  the \nengineer  on  the  summit  of  Breed's  Hill. \nIn  the  bright  moonlight  Prescott  at  once \nset  his  men  at  work  digging,  endeavoring  to \nraise  a  good  protection  before  morning. \n\nIn  this  he  was  successful.  His  men  were \nall  farmers,  used  to  the  shovel  and  pick; \nthe  earth  was  soft  and  scarcely  stony;  and \nthere  was  no  interruption.  Cheered  from \ntime  to  time  by  the  cry  of  the  sentry  on  the \nnearer  ship,  \"  All's  Well ! \"  they  pushed  on \nthe  work.  When  at  daybreak  the  redoubt  was \nseen,  the  British  could  scarcely  believe  their \neyes,  for  a  completed  fort  seemed  to  stand \nthere. \n\nAnd  now  was  a  chance  for  a  display  of \nmilitary  science  on  the  part  of  Gage  and \nhis  three  major-generals.  There  stood  the \n\n\nThe  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill          259 \n\nlittle  low  redoubt,  unflanked  and  unsupported \nby  any  other  fortifications,  easily  cut  off \nfrom  its  own  line  of  relief  or  retreat.  If \nnow  Gage  had  promptly  seized  the  isthmus, \ndrawn  his  ships  up  close,  and  dragged  a  bat- \ntery to  the  top  of  Bunker  Hill,  the  Ameri- \ncan force  could  very  soon  have  been  driven \nto  surrender.  Ruggles,  the  Tory  brigadier,  is \nknown  to  have  advised  this,  and  there  were \nsome  among  the  British  leaders  who  urged \nit.  The  general  feeling,  however,  seems  to \nhave  been  that  it  would  be  unmanly  to \ncatch  the  Americans  in  the  trap  which  they \nhad  laid  for  themselves.  In  a  hasty  council \nof  war  it  was  decided  to  assault  the  redoubt \nin  the  good  old  British  fashion  of  marching \nup  to  its  face.  Gage  was  in  no  hurry  even \nfor  this.  Contenting  himself  with  ordering \nthe  shipping  and  the  Boston  batteries  to  fire \nupon  the  little  fort,  he  gave  the  Americans \nevery  chance  to  complete  their  defences, \nwhile  leaving  the  way  open  for  reinforce- \nments. In  a  leisurely  way  he  set  about \npreparing  an  expedition  to  cross  Charlestown \n\n\n260  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nferry.  The  men  were  mustered,  and  equipped \nas  for  a  march. \n\nHowe  was  to  take  charge  of  the  assault, \nand  Burgoyne  and  Clinton  to  direct  the  Bos- \nton batteries.  The  fleet  joined  in  the  fire. \nFrom  Copp's  Hill,  from  Barton's  Point, \nfrom  five  ships  of  war,  and  from  a  couple  of \nfloating  batteries,  such  a  storm  of  round- \nshot  was  poured  upon  the  redoubt  that  its \ndefenders  were  amazed,  and  on  the  death \nof  a  comrade  were  ready  to  stop  work.  But \nPrescott,  coolly  insisting  —  against  the  pro- \ntest of  a  horrified  chaplain  —  that  the  body  be \nimmediately  buried,  took  his  stand  upon  the \nparapet,  and  from  there  directed  the  finish- \ning of  the  redoubt. \n\nIn  this  position  he  was  seen  from  Boston. \nGage,  handing  his  field-glasses  to  a  Tory  who \nstood  near  him,  asked  if  he  recognized  the  rebel. \nThe  Tory  was  Willard  of  Lancaster,  a  man- \ndamus councillor,  who  well  knew  Prescott's \ndeclared  intention  never  to  be  taken  alive. \n\n\"He  is  my  brother-in-law,\"  he  replied. \n\n\"Will  he  fight?\"  asked  Gage. \n\n\nThe  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill          261 \n\n\"I  cannot  answer  for  his  men,\"  said  Wil- \nlard;  \"  but  Prescott  will  fight  you  to  the  gates \nof  hell!\"1 \n\nAt  the  redoubt  one  of  Prescott's  aids  fol- \nlowed his  example,  and  walking  back  and \nforth  on  the  parapet  the  two  gave  courage \nto  their  men.  These  fell  to  and  completed \nthe  work.  The  rampart  was  raised  to  a  con- \nsiderable height,  platforms  of  earth  or  wood \nwere  made  inside  for  the  defenders,  and  at \nabout  eleven  o'clock  the  men  stacked  their \ntools  and  were  ready. \n\nThe  redoubt,  when  thus  finished,  was \nroughly  square,  about  \"eight  rods  on  the \nlongest  side,\"  which  had  a  single  angle  pro- \njecting toward  the  south.  Running  north- \nwards from  the  northeast  corner  Prescott  had \nmade  a  breastwork  of  perhaps  two  hundred \nfeet,2  to  prevent  flanking.  It  stretched  toward \nthe  Mystic  River,  but  fell  short  by  more  than \na  hundred  yards. \n\n1  Frothingham's  \"Siege,\"  126,  and  Sabine's  \"Loyal- \nists,\" 707. \n\n2  Reports  vary  from  eighty  to  three  hundred  feet. \n\n\n262  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nCooped  up  in  this  little  fort,  inadequately \nprotected  against  flanking,  with  shot  con- \ntinually striking  on  the  sides  of  the  redoubt, \nPrescott's  men  waited.  They  had  worked  all \nnight  and  most  of  the  morning,  had  little  food \nand  water,  saw  as  yet  nothing  of  the  relief \nthat  had  been  promised  them,  and  could  tell \nby  the  fever  of  activity  visible  in  Boston's \nstreets  that  the  red  coats  soon  would  come \nagainst  them.  There  is  no  wonder  that \nwhen  Putnam  rode  up  and  asked  for  the  en- \ntrenching tools  (proposing,  with  the  best  of \nmilitary  good  sense,  to  make  a  supporting \nredoubt  on  Bunker  Hill),  many  of  Prescott's \nmen  were  glad  of  the  excuse  to  remove  them- \nselves from  so  dangerous  a  neighborhood.  Of \nthose  who  carried  back  the  tools,  few  returned. \n\nBut  Prescott's  remainder  was  stanch.  The \nmen  were  already  veterans,  having  endured \nthe  work  and  the  cannonade.  Waiting  in  the \nfort,  some  of  them  could  appreciate  the  marvel \nof  the  scene :  a  great  stretch  of  intermingled \nland  and  water,  the  shipping  spread  below, \nclose  at  hand  the  town  of  Charlestown,  and \n\n\nThe  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill          263 \n\nacross  the  narrow  river  the  larger  town  of \nBoston,  with  its  heights  and  house-tops \nalready  crowded  by  non-combatants,  viewing \nthe  field  that  was  prepared  for  the  slaughter. \nIt  was  all  in  bright  and  warm  weather,  under \na  cloudless  sky.  Since  the  world  began,  there \nhad  been  few  battle-fields  so  spectacularly \nlaid  out. \n\nAt  last  the  bustle  in  Boston's  streets  pro- \nduced results.  From  the  wharves  pushed \nout  into  the  placid  water  the  boats  of  the \nfleet,  loaded  to  the  gunwales  with  soldiers  in \nfull  equipment.  As  they  neared  the  Charles- \ntown  shore,  the  fire  upon  the  redoubt  was \ndoubled,  and  under  its  cover  the  troops \nlanded  upon  Moulton's  Point.  There  Howe \nat  first  deployed  them,  but  after  inspecting \nthe  ground  sent  back  for  reinforcements. \nFor  the  men  in  the  redoubt  there  were  two \nmore  hours  of  waiting. \n\nThose  two  hours  very  nearly  decided  the \nfate  of  the  struggle,  for  had  Howe  moved \nimmediately  to  the  assault  there  could  have \nbeen  no  such  resistance  offered  him  as  later \n\n\n264  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nhe  met.  Prescott  decided  to  send  to  Cam- \nbridge for  reinforcements ;  but  such  was  the \nconfusion  that  the  messenger  could  get  no \nhorse,  and  had  to  walk  the  six  miles  to \nheadquarters.  There  he  was  ill  received,  for \nWard,  who  during  the  whole  day  did  not \nleave  his  house,  feared  an  attack  on  Cam- \nbridge, dreaded  to  deplete  his  supply  of  pow- \nder, and  only  upon  repeated  representations \nordered  a  couple  of  regiments  in  support  of \nPrescott.  These  regiments  had  to  draw  their \npowder  and  make  up  their  cartridges,  and \narrived  when  the  battle  was  just  about  to \nbegin. \n\nThe  student  of  this  day  finds  it  difficult  to \ndisentangle  the  varied  accounts.  Who  was \non  the  field  and  who  was  not,  what  part  was \ntaken  by  each,  who  was  in  command  at  this \npoint  and  who  there,  and  the  total  of  men \nengaged,  all  either  were  or  still  are  disputed \npoints.  It  seems  to  be  beyond  doubt,  how- \never, that  Prescott  from  the  first  was  in  com- \nmand at  the  redoubt,  and  that  Putnam  as- \nsumed, and  tried  to  execute,  general  oversight \n\n\nThe  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill          265 \n\nof  the  field  of  contest  outside  the  redoubt  and \nbeyond  the  breastwork. \n\nWhile  Howe's  troops  lunched  quietly  at \nMoulton's  Point,  the  aspect  of  affairs  for  the \nAmericans  became  brighter.  Prescott,  seeing \nthat  he  must  have  better  protection  toward \nthe  Mystic  River,  ordered  a  detachment  of \nConnecticut  troops,  under  Captain  Knowlton, \nand  with  them  six  field-pieces  —  which  seem \nto  have  figured  not  at  all  in  the  result  —  to \n\"go  and  oppose\"  the  enemy.  Avoiding  a \nmarshy  spot  of  ground,  Knowlton  chose  a \nposition  some  two  hundred  yards  to  the  rear \nof  the  redoubt  and  its  breastwork.  Here \nwas  a  fence,  the  lower  part  of  stone,  the \nupper  of  rails.  The  men  brought  forward \nfrom  the  rear  another  rail  fence,  leaned  it \nagainst  the  first,  and  wove  in  between  the \nrails  hay  which  they  found  recently  cut  upon \nthe  ground.  This,  the  \"rail  fence\"  men- \ntioned in  all  accounts  of  the  battle,  was  their \nsole  protection. \n\nNow  began  slowly  to  come  across  the \nisthmus  the  first  of  the  reinforcements  that \n\n\n266  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nstrengthened  the  hands  of  the  provincials. \nThey  came  partly  as  individuals,  of  whom \nthe  most  noted  was  Warren,  who  but  the \nday  before  had  been  appointed  general  by  the \nprovincial  congress.  He  came  as  a  volun- \nteer, knew  his  risk,  and  was  prepared  to  die. \n[  Curiously  James  Otis,  it  is  said,  was  also \namong  the  defenders  of  the  redoubt,  coming, \nlike  Warren,  as  a  volunteer.  It  was  a  strange \nfate  which  sent  him  safely  home,  to  live,  still \nwrecked  in  intellect  and  useless  to  his  coun- \ntry, while  Warren  was  to  fall. \n\nBy  this  time  a  lively  hail  of  shot  and  shell \nwas  falling  on  Charlestown  Neck,  and  to \ncross  it  was  a  test  of  courage.  Seth  Pomeroy, \nbrigadier-general,  veteran  of  Louisburg,  came \non  a  borrowed  horse,  and,  sending  back  the \nanimal,  crossed  on  foot.  Others,  alone,  in \ngroups,  or  in  semi-military  formation,  fol- \nlowed him,  to  be  directed  by  Putnam  to  the \nrail  fence,  which  needed  defenders.  At  last \ncame  one  who  needed  no  directions  —  Stark, \nat  the  head  of  his  New  Hampshire  regiment. \nAlthough  requested  to  hurry  his  men  across \n\n\nThe  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill          267 \n\nthe  Neek,  Stark  replied,  \"One  fresh  man  in \naction  is  worth  ten  fatigued  ones,\" *  and \nwould  not  change  his  step.  Marching  down \nthe  slope  of  Bunker  Hill,  he  quickly  noted \nthat  between  the  rail  fence  and  the  water  the \nbeach  was  unguarded.  \"I  saw  there,\"  he \nsaid  afterward,  \"the  way  so  plain  that  the \nenemy  could  not  miss  it.\" 2  Before  the \nattack  could  begin,  Stark's  men  threw  up  a \nrude  breastwork  of  cobbles  behind  which \nthey  could  find  a  little  shelter.  —  And  now \nat  last  the  American  defences  were  completed, \njust  as  the  troops  were  in  motion  to  attack \nthem. \n\nAt  this  point  Howe  neglected  a  method  of \nattack  which  would  have  made  his  victory \nimmediate.  The  rail  fence,  and  Stark's  de- \nfence upon  the  beach,  were  open  to  attack \nfrom  the  river.  We  have  seen  that  two  float- \ning batteries  (\"large  flat  boats,\"  says  Lieu- \ntenant Barker,  \"sides  raised  and  musquet \n\n1  Dearborn's  account  of  the  battle,  Historical  Maga- \nzine for  1864. \n\n2  Bancroft,  v,  612. \n\n\n268  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nproof\")  were  used  to  bombard  the  redoubt. \nThese,  like  the  shipping  and  the  Boston  bat- \nteries, did  no  good  whatever.  But  placed \nin  the  Mystic  in  the  proper  position,  they \ncould  have  raked  the  rail  fence.  \"Had  these \nboats  been  with  us,\"  says  our  lieutenant, \n\".  .  .  they  would  have  taken  a  part  of  the \nRebels  entrenchment  in  flank,  and  in  their \nretreat  wou'd  have  cut  off  numbers.\"  But \nHowe  was  only  a  soldier,  such  an  aid  ap- \nparently never  occurred  to  him,  and  the  float- \ning batteries  —  gondolas,  as  they  were  called \n—  remained  on  the  southern  side  of  the  penin- \nsula. He  ordered  the  attack. \n\nThe  attack  was  triple,  but  the  artillery  fire, \non  which  Howe  had  counted,  was  at  first \nvalueless,  because  for  the  six-pounders  had \nbeen  sent  over  mostly  nine-pound  shot,  thanks \nto  the  chief  of  artillery,  who  was  afterward \nsupposed  to  be  making  love  to  the  school- \nmaster's daughter.  The  cannon,  further,  got \ninto  the  marshy  ground,  and  could  not  find \nan  effective  position.  So  the  real  assault  was \nfirst  delivered  by  the  troops  alone,  one  de- \n\n\nThe  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill          269 \n\ntachment  marching  against  the  redoubt,  and \none  against  the  rail  fence. \n\nThe  troops  moved  with  great  confidence. \nAccording  to  the  habit  of  the  time,  they  were \ncompletely  equipped  as  for  an  expedition, \nwith  blankets  and  three-days'  rations.  It \nhas  been  computed  that  each  soldier  carried \nabout  a  hundred  and  twenty  pounds.1  They \nwere,  therefore,  greatly  burdened  at  best; \nand  on  so  hot  a  day,  with  the  grass  to  their \nknees,  and  many  fences  to  cross,  their  task \nwas  the  worse.  But  they  advanced  with \ngreat  composure,  and  apparently  forgetting \nthe  1 9th  of  April  they  were  deployed  in  open \norder,  as  if  to  present  each  marksman  with \na  separate  target.  Howe  led  those  who \nmarched  at  the  rail  fence,  and  General  Pigot \nled  the  assault  upon  the  redoubt.  Both \nbodies  of  the  regulars  advanced  with  occa- \nsional ineffective  volleys. \n\nAt  first,  says  tradition,  a  few  Americans \nfired  when  the  troops  came  in  range,  but \n\n1  Ross's  \"  Life  of  Cornwallis,\"  quoted  in  Fonblanque's \n\"Burgoyne,\"  159. \n\n\n270  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nPrescott  and  his  officers,  leaping  upon  the \nparapet  of  the  redoubt,  kicked  up  the  muzzles \nof  the  guns.  If  the  men  would  but  obey \nhim,  Prescott  told  them,  not  a  British  soldier \nwould  get  within  the  redoubt.  At  the  rail \nfence  the  men  were  likewise  prevented  from \nfiring,  Putnam  threatening  to  cut  down  any \nwho  disobeyed.  They  were  ordered  not  to \nshoot  until  the  regulars  passed  a  stake  which \nStark  set  up  for  a  mark.  Many  familiar  say- \nings were  passed  among  the  provincials : \n\"Wait  till  you  see  the  whites  of  their  eyes! \nAim  at  the  crossing  of  the  belts  !  Pick  out \nthe  handsome  coats!\" \n\nAs  if  to  add  to  the  impressiveness  of  the \nscene,  it  was  about  this  time  that  Charles- \ntown,  set  on  fire  a  little  while  before,  that  it \nshould  not  give  cover  to  the  Americans,  and \nthat  the  smoke  should  confuse  the  rebels, \nburst  into  general  conflagration.  The  town \nhad  been  for  weeks  almost  deserted,  in  dread \nof  this  fate ;  now  at  the  command  of  Howe \nred-hot  shot  were  thrown  in  among  the  houses, \nand  marines  landed  from  the  ships  and  fired \n\n\nThe  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill          271 \n\nthe  wharves    and  waterside   buildings.     The \nact  was,  however,  a  wanton  one,  for  no  ad- \nvantage was  gained  or  lost  to  either  side  by \nthe  fire.1 \nAt    last    the    troops    were    near    enough. \n\n1  The  picturesqueness  of  this  scene  has  been  remarked \nby  many  writers.  The  best  contemporary  description \nis,  of  course,  Burgoyne's.  \"To  consider  this  action  as  a \nsoldier,  it  comprised,  though  in  a  small  compass,  almost \nevery  branch  of  military  duty  and  curiosity.  Troops \nlanded  in  the  face  of  an  enemy;  a  fine  disposition;  a \nmarch  sustained  by  a  powerful  cannonade  by  moving \nfield  artillery,  fixed  batteries,  floating  batteries,  and \nbroadsides  of  ships  at  anchor,  all  operating  separately \nand  well  disposed;  a  deployment  from  the  march  to \nform  for  the  attack  of  the  entrenchments  and  redoubt ; \na  vigorous  defence ;  a  storm  with  bayonets ;  a  large  and \nfine  town  set  on  fire  by  shells.  Whole  streets  of  houses, \nships  upon  the  stocks,  a  number  of  churches,  all  sending \nup  volumes  of  smoke  and  flame,  or  falling  together  in \nruins,  were  capital  objects.  A  prospect  of  the  neigh- \nboring hills,  the  steeples  of  Boston,  and  the  masts  of \nsuch  ships  as  were  unemployed  in  the  harbor,  all  crowded \nwith  spectators,  friends  and  foes  alike  in  anxious  sus- \npense, made  a  background  to  the  piece ;  and  the  whole \ntogether  composed  a  representation  of  war  that  I  think \nthe  imagination  of  Lebrun  never  reached.\"  —  FON- \nBLANQUE,  \"Burgoyne,\"  156. \n\n\n272  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nThey  had  themselves  been  firing  for  some \ntime,  volleying  as  they  advanced,  but  firing \ntoo  high.  Now,  as  they  reached  a  line  some \neight  or  ten  rods  from  the  redoubt,  Prescott \ngave  the  word  to  fire,  and  to  continue  firing. \nThe  discharge  from  the  redoubt  was  close, \ndeadly,  and  incessant,  while  at  the  rail  fence \nthe  reception  of  the  British  was  even  more \nfatal.  For  a  few  minutes  the  regulars  held \ntheir  ground,  returning  the  fire  as  best  they \nmight,  yet  decimated  by  the  American  bul- \nlets, and  seeing  their  officers  falling  all  about \nthem.  There  was  no  hope  to  advance,  and \nsullenly  they  withdrew. \n\nIf  ever  there  was  a  moment  that  marked \nthe  fate  of  our  nation,  it  was  that  one.  It \nforecast  Bennington,  Saratoga,  and  York- \ntown,  Gettysburg  and  the  Wilderness.  Well \nmight  the  provincials  exult  as  they  saw  the \nretreat  of  the  regulars  ;  and  well  might  Wash- \nington exclaim,  when  he  learned  that  the \nfarmers  had  driven  the  British,  \"Then  the \nliberties  of  the  country  are  safe!\"1 \n\n1  Lodge's  \"Washington,\"  i,  133. \n\n\nThe  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill          273 \n\nBut  the  battle  was  not  yet  won.  The \nslaughter  among  the  officers  was  frightful, \nyet  the  leaders  were  uninjured.  Howe  gave \nthe  order,  the  troops  formed  again,  and  again \nadvanced  to  the  attack.  The  Americans \nadmired  them  as  they  approached,  preserving \nunbroken  order,  and  stepping  over  the  bodies \nof  the  slain  as  if  they  had  been  logs  of  wood. \nThis  time  the  troops  were  allowed  to  come \nnearer  yet,  but  when  the  provincials  fired \nat  the  word  the  carnage  was  greater  than \nbefore.  In  the  smoke  the  officers  were  seen \nurging  their  men,  striking  them  with  their \nsword  hilts,  and  even  pricking  them  with  the \npoints.  But  it  was  in  vain.  The  officers \nthemselves  were  shot  down  in  unheard-of \nproportion,  and  at  the  rail  fence  those  who \nsurvived  out  of  full  companies  of  thirty- \nnine  were  in  some  cases  only  three,  or  four, \nor  five.  Nothing  could  be  done  under  such \na  fire.  Leaving  their  dead  within  a  few \nyards  of  the  American  lines,  for  a  second  time \nthe  British  retreated. \n\nAt  last  Howe  had  learned  his  lesson.    While \n\n\n274  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nhis  officers,  for  the  sake  of  the  men,  implored \nhim  to  find  some  other  way  to  conquer  the \nredoubt,  he  determined  on  a  third  assault. \nHe  ordered  that  the  knapsacks  be  left  behind, \nand  that  the  troops  be  formed  in  column. \nIn  the  work  of  rallying  the  disheartened \nmen  he  was  ably  helped  by  Clinton,  who, \nobserving  a  detachment  in  disorder  near \ntheir  boats,  impetuously  hurried  across  the \nriver,  reformed  their  ranks,  and  put  himself \nat  their  head.  Some  four  hundred  marines \ncame  over  as  reinforcements ;  according  to \nLieutenant  Barker,  the  47th  regiment  came \nalso.  Howe  disposed  his  forces  in  three \ncolumns,  to  attack  the  three  faces  of  the \nredoubt. \n\nBetween  the  first  and  second  assaults \nthere  had  been  less  than  half  an  hour's  in- \nterval. This  time  the  wait  was  longer,  and \nthe  Americans  ineffectually  sought  to  take \nadvantage  of  it.  Messengers  were  again  sent \nto  Ward;  the  general,  learning  at  last  that \nso  many  of  the  British  forces  were  occupied \nin  the  battle  that  Cambridge  was  safe  from \n\n\nThe  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill          275 \n\nan  attack,  gave  orders  that  more  regiments \nshould  go  to  Prescott's  assistance.  To  save \nthe  day  there  was  yet  time,  but  of  the  regi- \nments thus  ordered,  few  companies  reached \nthe  ground,  and  fewer  still  took  part  in  the \naction.  And  in  this  the  weakness  of  the \nAmerican  organization  was  sadly  evident. \nFrom  first  to  last  Ward  seems  to  have  sent \nto  Bunker  Hill  sufficient  force  to  have  won \nthe  battle;  but  as  he  never  left  his  house \nhe  could  take  no  pains  to  make  sure  that \nhis  orders  were  obeyed.  As  a  matter  of  fact, \nof  the  regiments  despatched,  one  went  to \nLechmere's  Point,  where  it  must  have  secured \nan  excellent  view  of  the  battle,  but  was  com- \npletely useless.  Being  next  ordered  \"to  the \nhill,\"  it  was  conducted  by  its  colonel,  James \nScammans,  to  Cobble  Hill ;  thence  he  sent \nto  Bunker  Hill  to  learn  if  he  was  wanted. \nReceiving  a  vigorous  reply  from  Putnam, \nScammans  at  last  marched  his  men  to  Bunker \nHill,  reaching  the  top  in  time  to  witness \nthe  end  of  the  battle.  In  similar  fashion \nyoung  Major  Gridley  of  the  artillery  battalion, \n\n\n276  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nwhom  \"parental  partiality\"  had  given  too \nmuch  responsibility,  took  post  at  a  distance, \nand  fired  at  the  shipping.  Both  Scammans \nand  Gridley  were  later  court-martialled. \nOther  officers  lost  their  way,  or,  like  Colonel \nMansfield,  who  stayed  with  his  regiment  to \n\"support\"  Gridley. in  his  position  of  safety, \ndisobeyed  orders. \n\nThese  facts  serve  to  show  not  only  the  con- \nfusion of  the  day,  but  also  the  bad  judgment, \nto  use  no  stronger  phrase,  of  unseasoned \nsoldiers.  It  is  fair  to  say  that  the  hesitancy \nof  some  was  offset  by  the  heroism  of  others. \nWhen  Colonel  Gerrish,  who  was  later  cash- \niered, could  bring  his  men  no  further  for- \nward than  Bunker  Hill,  his  adjutant,  Chris- \ntian Febiger,  a  Dane,  led  a  part  of  the  com- \nmand to  the  rail  fence,  and  fought  bravely \nthere.  One  of  the  captains  of  artillery,  dis- \nregarding Gridley's  commands,  took  his  two \nguns  to  Charlestown,  and  served  one  of \nthem  at  the  rail  fence.  Other  individuals \nnamed  and  unnamed,  with  or  without  orders, \nwent  to  the  field,  took  post  where  they  could, \n\n\nThe  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill          277 \n\nand  fought  for  their  own  hand.  Yet  these \nare  scattered  instances  in  the  midst  of  too \nmany  failures  to  obey.  Those  who  did  march \ndown  to  the  field  of  carnage,  with  \"no  more \nthought,\"  as  one  of  them  confessed,  \"of \never  rising  the  hill  again  than  I  had  of  as- \ncending to  Heaven,  as  Elijah  did,  soul  and \nbody  together,\"  —  those  who  thus  devoted \nthemselves  left  many  behind  on  the  safe \nside  of  Bunker  Hill,  or  posted  ineffectively \nbehind  distant  fences  or  trees.  Of  the  thou- \nsand Americans  who  during  this  last  pause \nin  the  battle  might  have  reached  the  post \nof  danger,  not  enough  arrived  to  affect  the \nresult. \n\nAt  last,  while  aides  were  still  beating  up \nfor  more  support,  and  Putnam  himself  was \nreturning  from  a  similar  errand,  Howe  put \nhis  troops  in  motion.  This  time  the  move- \nment against  the  rail  fence  was  but  a  feint; \nand  now  for  the  first  time  the  artillery  of \neither  side  did  effective  service  in  the  battle. \nAgainst  the  protest  of  the  artillery  officers \nthat  the  ground  was  too  soft  to  take  better \n\n\n278  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nposition,  Howe  ordered  them  forward,  and \nthey  loyally  obeyed.  They  found  a  post \nfrom  which  they  could  enfilade  the  breast- \nwork, and  at  their  first  discharge  of  grape \nsent  its  defenders  into  the  redoubt  for  safety. \nIt  was  the  beginning  of  the  end.  Prescott, \nas  he  saw  the  breastwork  abandoned,  and \nmarked  the  three  advancing  columns,  saw \nthat  the  redoubt  was  doomed. \n\nAnd  yet  the  day  ought  not  to  have  been \nlost.  Had  Ward  but  sent  a  hundred  pounds \nof  powder,  the  fight  might  have  been  won. \nBut  Prescott  looked  for  it  in  vain.  Or  had \nthose  men,  whom  he  saw  shooting  at  long \nrange  from  positions  of  safety,  come  for- \nward to  reinforce  the  defenders  of  the  redoubt, \nthe  scales  might  have  been  turned.  But \nthe  fight  was  to  end  as  it  had  begun,  with \nPrescott's  small  detachment  still  unsupported, \nleft  all  day  without  food  or  water,  and  now \nat  the  end  without  powder.  As  the  troops \nclimbed  the  hill  a  few  artillery  cartridges \nwere  opened  and  their  powder  distributed \namong  the  provincials.  Some  of  the  men \n\n\nThe  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill          279 \n\nthus  had  three  or  four  charges  to  their  guns, \nsome  had  only  one ;  besides  this,  there  were \nfew  bayonets  among  them.  The  wonder  is \nthat  the  men  awaited  the  assault. \n\nThis  time  the  regulars  came  within  twenty \nyards  of  the  redoubt  before  the  word  was \ngiven  to  fire.  The  heads  of  the  columns \nwere  swept  away,  but  the  rest  came  on,  and \nmounted  the  parapet.  The  first  who  topped \nit  were  shot  down,  among  them  Pitcairn. \nBut  then  the  American  powder  was  spent,  and \nfrom  three  sides  the  British  swarmed  into \nthe  redoubt.  Reluctantly  Prescott  gave  his \nmen  the  word  to  retreat. \n\nFor  a  few  moments  the  fighting  was  fierce. \nSome  of  the  provincials  were  unwilling  to  run, \nand  fought  till  they  were  killed.  Some  used \nstones,  and  some  their  clubbed  muskets,  re- \ntiring unwillingly.  It  might  be  supposed  that \nthe  slaughter  was  great.  But  the  British, \nfor  the  very  reason  that  they  had  entered  from \nthree  sides,  were  afraid  to  fire  on  the  farmers \nfor  the  sake  of  their  own  men ;  the  dust  rose \nup  in  clouds,  and  so  in  the  confusion  most \n\n\n280  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nof  the  defenders  escaped,  like  Peter  Brown, \nwho  wrote  his  mother :  \"  I  was  not  suffered \nto  be  touched,  although  I  was  in  the  front \nwhen  the  enemy  came  in,  and  jumped  over \nthe  walls,  and  ran  half  a  mile,  where  balls \nflew  like  hailstones,  and  cannon  roared  like \nthunder.\"1 \n\nPrescott  came  off  unhurt.  Those  who  saw \nhim  said  that  he  \"stepped  long,  with  his \nsword  up.\"  He  saved  his  life  by  parrying \nthe  bayonets  which  were  thrust  at  him,  al- \nthough some  of  them  pierced  his  clothes. \n\nThat  more  were  not  killed  in  the  pursuit \nwas  due  to  two  factors.  The  first  was  the \nexhaustion  of  the  soldiers,  who,  tired  with \ncarrying  heavy  loads  in  the  unwonted  heat \n(and  an  American  summer  is  like  the  trop- \nics to  an  Englishman),  were  winded  with \ntheir  last  charge  up  the  hill.  They  were \ntherefore  in  no  good  condition  to  follow  up \ntheir  victory,  and  the  fugitives  were  soon \naway  beyond  Bunker  Hill.  Yet  that  the \npursuit  was  so  poor  was  due  partly  to  the \n\n1  Appendix  to  Frothingham's  \"Siege,\"  393. \n\n\nThe  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill          281 \n\ndefenders  of  the  rail  fence.  These  men, \nmore  like  veteran  regiments  than  fragments \nof  many  commands,  withdrew  in  a  body, \ncontinually  threatening  those  who  offered \nto  close  in  from  behind.  The  end  of  the \nfight  was  as  honorable  to  them  as  its  be- \nginning. \n\nBut  there  was  much  loss.  A  number \nwere  killed  in  the  redoubt,  and  the  slopes  of \nBunker  Hill  were  dotted  with  slain,  killed  by \nbullets  and  cannon  shot.  At  the  Neck  some \nfew  more  were  killed.  The  total  of  dead, \naccording  to  Ward's  record,  was  115,  of  the \nwounded  305,  of  the  captured  30.  Slightly \nvarying  totals  are  reported.1 \n\nThe  great  personal  loss  on  the  part  of  the \nAmericans  was  in  the  death  of  Warren. \nThere  had  been  no  need  of  his  coming,  and \nhis  value  for  higher  services  —  he  was  presi- \ndent of  the  provincial  congress  and  had \njust  been  appointed  a  major-general  —  was \ngreater  than  at  the  post  of  actual  conflict. \n\n1  Washington  reported  later  139  killed,  36  missing, \n278  wounded. \n\n\n282  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nBut  his  fiery  spirit,  of  which  we  have  seen \nso  much,  would  not  be  denied.  That  day \nhe  waked  with  a  headache,  but  on  learning \nof  the  expected  battle  he  declared  himself \nwell.  Friends  tried  to  detain  him,  but  he \nreplied  with  the  Latin  phrase,  \"It  is  sweet \nand  becoming  to  die  for  one's  country.\" \nOn  reaching  the  field  he  met  Putnam,  who \noffered  to  take  his  orders.  But  Warren  had \ncome  as  a  volunteer,  and  asked  where  he \nshould  go.  Putnam  showed  him  the  redoubt, \nsaying,  \"There  you  will  be  covered.\" \n\n\"Don't  think,\"  said  Warren,  \"that  I  come \nto  seek  a  place  of  safety;  but  tell  me  where \nthe  onset  will  be  most  furious.\" \n\nPutnam  still  sent  him  to  the  redoubt. \n\"That  is  the  enemy's  object.\" \n\nWarren  went  to  the  redoubt,  where  the  men \nreceived  him  with  cheers,  and  Prescott  of- \nfered him  command.  But  Warren  still  de- \nclined, took  a  musket,  and  fought  with  the \nmen.  There  is  no  doubt  that  part  of  the \ncredit  of  the  stout  defence  belongs  to  him. \nWhen  the  retreat  was  ordered  he  withdrew \n\n\nThe  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill          283 \n\nunwillingly,  and  was  among  the  last  to  leave \nthe  redoubt.  After  he  had  gone  but  a  little \nway  in  the  open  field  he  was  shot  in  the  head, \nand  died  instantly.  Once,  when  the  British \nquestioned  the  courage  of  the  Americans, \nhe  had  said,  \"By  Heavens,  I  hope  I  shall  die \nup  to  my  knees  in  blood  ! \"  He  had  had  his \nwish. \n\nWarren's  death  at  the  time  was  not  cer- \ntainly known  to  either  friend  or  foe ;  his  body \nwas  buried  on  the  field,  and  was  disinterred \nand  identified  only  after  the  evacuation. \nOf  the  Boston  leaders,  he  was  the  only  one \nwho  gave  his  life  for  the  cause.  He  was \nsadly  missed,  a  man  of  keen  intellect  and \nexcellent  political  sense,  of  deep  sympathies, \nand  high  honor.  A  magnetic  leader,  he \ncould  ill  be  spared. \n\nThe  last  figure  on  the  battle-field  was \nPutnam's.  At  the  unfinished  fortification  on \nBunker  Hill  he  implored  the  fugitives  to  rally \nand  \"give  them  one  shot  more.\"  The  pro- \nfanity which  he  used  on  this  occasion  he  after- \nwards penitently  acknowledged  in  church. \n\n\n284  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nHe  retired  only  when  the  pursuers  were  close \nbehind,  but  went  no  further  than  Prospect \nHill.  There,  seizing  on  the  chance  which  so \nlong  had  been  denied  him,  without  orders  he \ncollected  men  and  commenced  another  re- \ndoubt. The  next  day  he  was  found  there, \nunwashed,  still  digging,  and  ready  for  another \nbattle. \n\nPrescott  returned  to  Cambridge,  reported \nat  headquarters,  and  offered  if  given  sufficient \ntroops  to  retake  the  hill.  But  Ward  was \nafraid  of  his  own  position,  and  would  not \nsanction  the  attempt. \n\nThe  British  loss  was  very  heavy,  about \none  thousand  and  fifty,  of  whom  a  quarter \nwere  killed,  while  ninety-two  among  the \ndead  were  officers.  Pitcairn  was  carried  to \nBoston,  and  died  there.  Colonel  Abercrom- \nbie  was  killed,  and  many  others  of  lesser \nnote.  As  soon  as  it  was  possible  the  wounded \nofficers  were  conveyed  to  Boston  for  medical \nattendance,  and  we  have  in  Major  Clarke's \nnarrative  a  dismal  picture  of  one  sad  proces- \nsion. \"In  the  first  carriage  was  Major  Will- \n\n\nThe  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill          285 \n\niams,  bleeding  and  dying,  and  three  dead \ncaptains  of  the  fifty-second  regiment.  In  the \nsecond,  four  dead  officers ;  then  another  with \nwounded  officers.\" \n\nThe  Americans,  at  first  discouraged  by \ntheir  defeat,  in  the  course  of  time  came  to \nregard  it  as  a  victory.  This  it  certainly  was \nnot,  yet  it  had  all  the  moral  effect  of  a  British \ndefeat.  The  regulars  learned  that  the  pro- \nvincials would  stand  up  to  them.  \"Damn \nthe  rebels,\"  was  the  current  phrase;  \"they \nwould  not  flinch.\"  x  Many  of  the  officers  felt \ncalled  upon  to  explain,  in  letters  home,  the \nreason  for  the  defeat.  The  American  rifles, \nargued  one,  were  \"peculiarly  adapted  to  take \noff  the  officers  of  a  whole  line  as  it  advances \nto  an  attack.\"  They  reasoned  that  the  re- \ndoubt, whose  perfection  when  examined  was \nastonishing,  must  have  been  the  work  of \ndays.  As  to  the  comparative  uselessness  of \nthe  British  cannon,  it  was  explained  by  the \nnine-pound  shot  (some  say  twelve)  sent  for \nthe  six-pounders.  Said  one  newspaper:  \"It \n\n1  Moore's  \"Diary  of  the  Revolution,\"  no. \n\n\n286  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nnaturally  required  a  great  while  to  ram  down \nsuch  disproportioned  shot ;  nor  did  they, \nwhen  discharged,  fly  with  that  velocity  and \ntrue  direction  they  would  have  done,  had \nthey  been  better  suited  to  the  size  of  the \n\n\ncannon.\"  l \n\n\nBut  aside  from  a  few  such  absurdities,  the \nbody  of  the  army  and  the  British  public \nrecognized  at  last  that  they  had  formidable \nantagonists.  This  was  no  such  fight  as  that \non  the  1 9th  of  April,  when  the  shifting  pro- \nvincials gave  the  regulars  nothing  to  strike \nat.  This  was  a  pitched  battle,  and  the \nfarmers  had  all  but  won  it.  The  British \nwere  amazed  by  the  stubborn  defence,  and \nthe  rapidity  and  accuracy  of  the  American \nfire.  The  proportion  of  killed  among  the \nofficers  was  greater  than  any  before  known, \nand  veterans  admitted  that  the  slaughter  was \nworse  than  at  Minden,  the  deadliest  of  recent \nEuropean  battles.  It  is  with  reason,  then, \nthat  Boston  still  celebrates  Bunker  Hill.  It \n\n1  These  two  quotations  are  from  Frothingham's \n\"Siege.\" \n\n\nThe  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill          287 \n\nwas  the  first  signal  proof  of  American  cour- \nage, and  forecast  the  success  of  the  siege.  In- \ndeed, it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  Bunker \nHill  battle  had  influence  in  deciding  the  out- \ncome of  the  war.  Howe,  destined  to  be  the \nleader  of  the  British  forces,  never  forgot  the \nlesson  of  the  redoubt  on  Breed's  Hill,  or  of \nthe  flimsy  fence  of  rails  and  hay.  It  was \nseldom  that  he  could  resolve  to  send  his  men \nagainst  a  rebel  entrenchment. \n\n\nCHAPTER  XI \n\nWASHINGTON   TAKES    COMMAND \n\nTHE  immediate  effect  of  the  battle  of \nBunker  Hill  upon  the  American  army \n—  or  rather  armies  —  was  one  of  dis- \nmay. The  result  was  confusion.  In  fact,  no \nstudy  of  the  battle  can  fail  to  impress  the \nexaminer  with  the  belief  that  outside  the  re- \ndoubt the  whole  conduct  of  the  Americans \nwas  haphazard.  Except  for  Stark's  regiment, \nwhich  itself  came  on  in  detachments,  the  re- \ninforcements dribbled  to  the  field  in  com- \npanies, platoons,  or  squads.  They  placed \nthemselves  where  the  hasty  judgment  of \nPutnam  directed  them,  or  if  he  was  absent \nto  beat  up  for  more  troops,  chose  their  own \npositions  and  fought  under  their  own  officers. \nPutnam  gave  orders,  yet  was  not  always \nobeyed ;  and  sent  urgently  for  reinforcements, \nbut,  though  his  demands  were  received  by \n\n288 \n\n\nWashington  takes  Command         289 \n\nofficers  from  other  colonies,  got  no  response.1 \nIn  this  individual  character  of  the  fighting  the \nday  was  much  like  that  of  the  iQth  of  April. \nAnd  after  the  battle  conditions  were  much \nthe  same.  Putnam  commenced  independ- \nently to  fortify  Prospect  Hill.  On  Winter \nHill  the  New  Hampshire  troops  made  a  re- \ndoubt, and  at  Roxbury  General  Thomas \nhastily  strengthened  his  position.  Even  at \nCambridge  Ward  began  to  fortify.  Word \nhad  been  sent  out  to  summon  the  militia, \nand  as  on  the  I9th  of  April  these  responded \nwith  alacrity  and  in  great  numbers.  It  was \nhourly  expected  that  the  British  would  sally \nfrom  Boston,  and  the  provincials  kept  them- \nselves in  a  confused  readiness.  In  the  mean- \ntime the  British  cannon  played  steadily  on \nthe  American  fortifications,  and  the  thunder \nof  the  artillery  spread  apprehension  in  the \n\n1  One  Massachusetts  colonel,  who  had  urgently \napplied  to  Ward  for  permission  to  go  to  the  Hill, \nbut  was  refused,  three  times  ignored  the  order  of \nPutnam  to  come  to  his  assistance  —  Putnam  being \nfrom  Connecticut.  See  Frothingham's  \"Siege,\"  1 68, \nnote. \n\nu \n\n\n290  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nneighboring  country.  Abigail  Adams  wrote \nfrom  Braintree :  \"The  battle  began  upon  our \nintrenchments  upon  Bunker's  Hill,  Saturday \nmorning  about  three  o'clock,  and  has  not \nceased  yet,  and  it  is  now  three  o'clock  Sab- \nbath afternoon.  It  is  expected  they  will \ncome  out  over  the  Neck  to-night,  and  a \ndreadful  battle  must  ensue.\" 1  Yet  the \nBritish  did  not  come  out,  quiet  gradually \nfell  on  the  two  armies,  the  militia  returned  to \ntheir  homes,  and  the  conduct  of  the  siege \nentered  on  a  new  phase. \n\nNow  more  than  ever  the  Americans  recog- \nnized that  conditions  were  precarious,  and \nthat  the  greatest  need  was  for  a  better  organi- \nzation. Zeal  was  not  wanting.  Whenever \nthe  British  cannonade  recommenced,  when- \never there  were  rumors  of  an  attack,  the \ntroops  were  ready  for  a  fight.  But  means  of \ncommunication,  and  prompt  and  efficient \nsubordination,  still  were  lacking.  Nor  does \nit  appear  that  those  on  the  ground  were  able, \nhandicapped  as  they  were  by  orders  from  the \n\n1  Adams  Letters,  67. \n\n\nWashington  takes  Command         291 \n\ndifferent  provincial  assemblies,  to  produce \nthe  necessary  system.  Higher  political  and \nmilitary  authority  both  were  needed  before \nthe  army  could  be  efficient.  Very  fortunately \nevents  had  been  preparing  to  supply  them. \n\nSince  the  middle  of  May  the  second  Con- \ntinental Congress  had  been  sitting  in  Phila- \ndelphia. Among  the  Massachusetts  delegates \nwere  Hancock  and  the  two  Adamses.  Gage \non  the  1 2th  of  June  had  consigned  Samuel \nAdams  and  Hancock  to  the  gallows,  but \nHancock  was  serving  as  president  of  the \nCongress,  while  the  Adamses  were  important \nmembers  of  committees.  They  watched  and \nwaited  for  the  growth  of  a  sentiment  which \nshould  support  New  England  in  its  resistance. \n\nThe  position  of  the  Congress  was  without \nprecedent.  An  illegal  body,  its  delegates \nwere  elected  by  conventions  improperly  con- \nstituted. It  had  no  authority  to  raise  money, \nto  purchase  arms,  or  to  direct  the  actions  of \nthe  provinces.  Though  in  New  England  war \nwas  in  progress,  many  of  the  delegates  loved \nthe  old  order  of  things,  and  were  not  yet \n\n\n292  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nready  to  move  toward  independence.  The \nfirst  actions  of  the  Congress  were  for  concilia- \ntion. \n\nThere  were  those  who  saw  that  this  was \nimpossible.  Of  the  New  England  delegates, \nvery  few  ever  again  hoped  for  what  was  called \n\"an  accommodation.\"  Washington,  on  his \npart,  saw  clearly  that  the  end  of  the  old \norder  had  come.  Franklin  knew  that  inde- \npendence would  be  the  result  of  the  changes \nthen  in  progress.  Yet  these  men,  and  others \nlike  them,  knew  also  that  they  could  not \nhurry  the  Congress  into  radical  action,  and \nwaited  the  effect  of  time.  For  weeks  the \nCongress  discussed  and  argued,  and  finally \npassed  a  resolve  that  \"an  humble  and  dutiful \npetition  be  presented  to  his  majesty.\"  1  This \nwould  give  a  chance  for  feelings  to  cool,  and \nfor  the  supporters  of  the  king  to  work  for  his \ninterest. \n\nBut  events  would  not  stand  still.  In  Eng- \nland the  news  of  Concord  had  not  moved  the \nking  to  lenity ;  he  saw  no  lesson  in  the  tragedy, \n\n1  Bancroft,  iv,  583. \n\n\nWashington  takes  Command         293 \n\nand  insisted  on  pressing  his  policy.  Lord \nNorth's  feeble  endeavor  to  resign  was  checked, \nsupplies  were  sent  to  Virginia  to  support  the \ngovernor  in  his  project  of  a  rising  of  the \nslaves,  a  scheme  was  pressed  to  raise  in  Caro- \nlina a  regiment  of  veteran  Highlanders,  and \norders  were  sent  to  rouse  the  Iroquois  against \nthe  rebels.  Further,  the  king  planned  to \nstrengthen  his  forces  by  hiring  troops  from \nthe  continent  of  Europe. \n\nNews  of  all  this,  coming  across  the  Atlantic, \nby  degrees  changed  the  aspect  of  affairs,  and \nmade  the  members  of  the  Congress  doubtful \nof  reconciliation.  They  began  to  look  to \ntheir  own  positions,  and  to  feel  that,  as  Frank- \nlin said,  unless  they  hung  together  they \nwould  all  hang  separately.  To  remind  them \nwhat  they  could  do  in  self-defence  the  needs \nof  the  army  around  Boston  were  frequently \nbrought  to  their  attention.  Its  discipline, \nequipment,  and  leadership  were  poor.  At \nlast  came  a  petition  from  Massachusetts, \nbegging  that  Congress  should  \"take  com- \nmand of  the  army  by  appointing  a  generalis- \n\n\n294  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nsimo.\"  *  Such  a  step  was  open  and  complete \nrebellion,  and  the  Congress  hesitated.  By \nprivate  letters  to  Samuel  Adams  the  desired \nleader  was  pointed  out :  Washington. \n\nThe  choice  was  doubly  wise.  To  the \nAdamses  it  had  been  plain  that,  though \nHancock  was  desirous  of  the  post,  it  should \nnot  be  given  to  a  New  Englander.  The  New \nEngland  army  would  be  knit  together,  and \nits  provincial  jealousies  appeased,  by  the \nappointment  of  a  general  from  another  sec- \ntion. Further,  in  all  the  continent  there \nwas  not  another  man  of  Washington's  ex- \nperience, ability,  and  steadfastness. \n\nWashington  was  then  in  the  prime  of  life, \nforty-three  years  of  age,  and  of  such  physique \nas  was  needed  for  the  bearer  of  the  greatest \nburden  that  had  ever  been  put  upon  an \nAmerican.  He  was  tall,  finely  built,  majestic \nin  carriage  and  impressive  of  feature,  and \naccustomed  from  his  youth  to  exposure, \nhardship,  and  constant  exertion.  He  had \nlong  been  used  to  depending  upon  himself, \n\n1  Bancroft,  iv,  590. \n\n\nWashington  takes  Command         295 \n\nand  had  acquired  an  independent  judgment \nthat  was  almost  unerring.  Further,  that \njudgment  had  been  exercised  on  military \nmatters.  While  Hancock  had  been  at  best \nthe  captain  of  a  militia  company  in  time  of \npeace,  Washington  had  from  his  nineteenth \nyear  been  commissioned  with  higher  com- \nmands, and  had  seen  much  active  service. \nMore  than  one  campaign  owed  its  success \nagainst  the  Indians  largely  to  him,  and  it  was \nhe  and  his  Virginians  who  saved  the  remnant \nat  Braddock's  defeat.  He  had  a  strong \ntemper  under  almost  perfect  control,  patience \nand  persistence  in  equal  amounts,  and,  with \na  wonderful  reserve,  the  quality  of  winning \nthe  confidence  of  all  honest  men. \n\nBesides  all  this,  he  was  heart  and  soul  in \nthe  cause.  While  others  had  discussed  and \nhesitated,  he  had  long  ago  made  up  his  mind, \nnot  only  that  the  quarrel  with  the  king  would \ncome  to  violence,  but  that  all  Americans \nshould  resist  to  the  utmost.  \"Shall  we,\"  he \nasked  in  a  letter  to  a  friend,  after  enumerat- \ning Gage's  despotic  acts,  \"shall  we  after  this \n\n\n296  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nwhine  and  cry  for  relief,  when  we  have  already \ntried  it  in  vain  ?  Or  shall  we  supinely  sit \nand  see  one  province  after  another  fall  a \nsacrifice  to  despotism  ?\"  In  a  letter  to  a \nBritish  officer  at  Boston,  he  says,  \"Permit \nme  with  the  freedom  of  a  friend  (for  you \nknow  I  always  esteemed  you),  to  express  my \nsorrow  that  fortune  should  place  you  in  a \nservice  that  must  fix  curses  to  the  latest \nposterity  upon  the  contrivers,  and,  if  success \n(which,  by  the  by,  is  impossible)  accompanies \nit,  execrations  upon  all  those  who  have  been \ninstrumental  in  the  execution.  .  .  .  Give  me \nleave  to  add  as  my  opinion  that  more  blood \nwill  be  spilled  on  this  occasion,  if  the  minis- \ntry are  determined  to  push  matters  to  ex- \ntremity, than  history  has  ever  yet  furnished \ninstances  of  in  the  annals  of  North  America, \nand  such  a  vital  wound  will  be  given  to  the \npeace  of  this  great  country,  as  time  itself \ncannot  cure  or  eradicate  the  remembrance \nof.\"  Few  in  those  days  had  such  certainty \nof  the  result  of  an  outbreak,  and  few  were \nso  ready  to  participate  in  one.  In  the  Vir- \n\n\nWashington  takes  Command         297 \n\nginia  convention  he  said,  \"I  will  raise  a  thou- \nsand men,  subsist  them  at  my  own  expense, \nand  march  them  to  the  relief  of  Boston.\"  No \nwonder  this  was  designated  \"the  most  elo- \nquent speech  that  ever  was  made.\"  He  was \nnot  called  on  to  make  good  his  promise,  but \nwas  sent  to  the  two  continental  congresses. \nAt  the  second  it  was  noticed  that  he  attended \nthe  sittings  in  his  uniform  of  a  Virginia  colonel. \nThough  he  took  no  part  in  the  debates,  he \nmade  himself  felt.  Patrick  Henry  said  of \nhim  at  this  time:  \"If  you  speak  of  solid  in- \nformation and  sound  judgment,  Colonel  Wash- \nington is  unquestionably  the  greatest  man  on \nthe  floor.\"  1 \n\nTo  make  the  Congress  \"adopt\"  the  army \nat  Boston,  and  to  have  Washington  appointed \ngeneralissimo,  became  the  task  of  John  Adams, \nwho  at  this  time  did  the  country  perhaps  his \ngreatest  service.  There  were  objections  to \nputting  a  Virginian  at  the  head  of  New  Eng- \nlanders,  for  colonial  jealousies,  and  even \ncolonial  lack  of  mutual  understanding,  might \n\n1  These  quotations  are  from  Lodge's  \"Washington,\"  i. \n\n\n298  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nbring  about  a  fatal  sullenness  in  the  men. \nAdams  discussed  the  matter  in  private  with \nmany  delegates,  and  could  not  succeed  even \nin  making  the  Massachusetts  and  Virginia \nrepresentatives  agree.  At  last,  determined \nto  force  action,  one  morning  he  announced  to \nSamuel  Adams  that  something  must  be  done. \n\"I  am  determined  this  morning  to  make  a \ndirect  motion  that  Congress  should  adopt \nthe  army  before  Boston,  and  appoint  Colonel \nWashington  commander  of  it.  Mr.  Adams,\" \nhe  added  in  his  diary,  \"seemed  to  think  very \nseriously  of  it,  but  said  nothing.\" \n\nAlone,  then,  but  determinedly  following \nhis  inspiration,  John  Adams  laid  before  the \nCongress  his  proposal.  First  he  spoke  in \nfavor  of  accepting  the  New  England  army \nas  the  army  of  the  continent;  then  he  began \na  eulogy  of  Washington.  Hancock's  eyes \nflashed  with  resentment,  and  Washington \nhimself  slipped  from  the  room.  There  were \na  few  days  of  delay  and  debate,  but  the \nenergy  of  Adams  carried  his  proposals.  The \nCongress  adopted  the  army,  appointed  four \n\n\nWashington  takes  Command         299 \n\nmajor-generals  and  eight  brigadiers,  and \nfinally,  on  the  I5th  of  June,  chose  the  com- \nmander-in-chief.  On  the  iyth  of  June,  the \nday  of  Bunker  Hill,  Adams  wrote  joyfully \nto  his  wife :  \"  I  can  now  inform  you  that  the \nCongress  have  made  choice  of  the  modest \nand  virtuous,  the  amiable,  generous,  and \nbrave  George  Washington,  Esquire,  to  be \nGeneral  of  the  American  Army.\"1 \n\nThis  was  a  step  which  the  Congress  could \nnot  retrace.  The  colonies  were  now  in  re- \nbellion, and  the  members,  as  they  realized \nthat  the  noose  was  preparing  for  their  necks, \nvoted  the  meagre  sum  of  twenty-five  thousand \ndollars  to  supply  with  powder  the  army \nwhich  alone  stood  between  them  and  a  sud- \nden taking  off.  Yet  the  significance  of  the  act \nwas  not  yet  understood  by  the  colonies  at \nlarge,  for  a  few  days  later  the  assembly  of \nNew  York  voted  military  escorts  both  to \nWashington  and  to  the  royalist  governor, \nwho  happened  to  arrive  on  the  same  day. \n\nWashington  himself,  however,  knew  better \n\n1  Adams  Letters,  65. \n\n\n300  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nthan  any  man  the  consequence  of  the  momen- \ntous step.  He  foresaw  that  the  labor  would \nbe  difficult  and  the  struggle  long.  On  the \n1 6th  of  June  he  accepted  his  commission,  but \nadded:  \"Lest  some  unlucky  event  should \nhappen,  unfavorable  to  my  reputation,  I \nbeg  it  to  be  remembered  by  every  gentleman \nin  the  room,  that  I,  this  day,  declare  with \nthe  utmost  sincerity,  I  do  not  think  myself \nequal  to  the  command  I  am  honored  with. \n\n\"As  to  pay,  Sir,  I  beg  leave  to  assure  the \nCongress,  that,  as  no  pecuniary  consideration \ncould  have  tempted  me  to  accept  this  ar- \nduous employment,  at  the  expense  of  my \ndomestic  ease  and  happiness,  I  do  not  wish \nto  make  any  profit  from  it.  I  will  keep  an \nexact  account  of  my  expenses.  These,  I \ndoubt  not,  they  will  discharge ;  and  that  is \nall  I  desire.\"  1 \n\nAs  soon  as  he  could  settle  his  affairs,  Wash- \nington started  for  Boston.  In  New  York \nhe  heard  the  news  of  Bunker  Hill,  and  was \ncheered  by  it.  He  arrived  on  July  2  in \n\n1  Sparks,  \"Writings  of  Washington,\"  iii,  I. \n\n\nWashington  takes  Command         301 \n\nWatertown,  where  the  Massachusetts  con- \ngress was  sitting,  and  received  a  congratu- \nlatory address.  He  then  pressed  on  to  Cam- \nbridge, which  he  reached  on  the  same  day. \nOn  the  3d,  a  year  and  a  day  before  the  Dec- \nlaration of  Independence,  and  according  to \ntradition  under  the  great  elm  still  standing \nnear  Cambridge  Common,  he  took  command \nof  the  army. \n\nThe  occasion  was  momentous,  and  was  so \nappreciated  by  a  few  at  the  time.  Would \nthe  critical  volunteer  army  approve  of  its  new \nchief  ?  There  was  not  a  murmur  against \nhim.  From  the  first  Washington's  magnifi- \ncent bearing  and  kingly  self-confidence  won \nthe  admiration  of  his  men.  He  brought \nwith  him  to  the  camp  at  Cambridge  two  who \nwere  ambitious  to  displace  him,  yet  of  Lee  and \nGates,  both  retired  English  officers,  the  first \nnever  won  a  personal  following,  and  the  second \nachieved  but  the  meagre  dignity  of  leadership \nof  a  cabal.  From  the  moment  when  he  took \ncommand  of  the  army,  Washington  was,  in- \ndeed, \"first  in  the  hearts  of  his  countrymen.\" \n\n\n302  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nAnd  the  student  of  our  history  cannot \nhelp  remarking  how  providential  it  was  that, \nalmost  at  the  outset  of  this  struggle,  Wash- \nington should  come  to  the  front.  Eighty- \nsix  years  later,  at  the  beginning  of  the  Re- \nbellion, there  was  no  accepted  chief.  Lincoln \nwas  doubted  by  the  North,  and  the  army \nhad  no  true  leader.  By  a  slow  process  Lin- \ncoln's commanding  strength  became  known ; \nby  an  equally  tedious  sifting  of  the  generals \nthe  qualities  of  Grant,  Sherman,  Thomas, \nand  Meade  were  discovered.  Only  the  tre- \nmendous resources  of  the  North  could  have \nwithstood  the  strain  of  such  a  delay.  Had \nthe  same  process  been  necessary  at  the  out- \nset of  the  Revolution,  the  colonies  could \nscarcely  have  maintained  the  struggle.  Had \nnot  Washington  been  at  hand,  accepted  by \nthe  Congress  and  admired  by  the  army,  the \nvirtual  leader  of  both,  the  chances  of  success \nwould  have  been  slight.  But  he  was  Lincoln \nand  Grant  in  one.  Time  and  again,  through \nthe  long  years,  it  was  Washington  alone  who \nbrought  victory  from  defeat.  Without  him \n\n\nWashington  takes  Command         303 \n\nthe  colonies  might  have  won  their  independ- \nence as  the  result  of  an  almost  interminable \nguerilla  warfare ;  but  with  him  the  fight  was \ndefinite,  decisive,  glorious,  and  —  for  the  in- \nfant republic  —  mercifully  short. \n\nThe  army  was  now  in  the  hands  of  a  sol- \ndier, one  who  knew,  if  any  man  did,  what \nwas  needed  to  make  the  raw  militiaman \ninto  a  professional.  Washington  fell  at  once \nto  work.  \"There  is  great  overturning  in \ncamp,\"  wrote  the  Reverend  William  Emerson, \nhe  who  had  watched  Concord  Fight  from \nthe  window  of  his  study.  \"New  lords,  new \nlaws.  The  Generals  Washington  and  Lee \nare  upon  the  lines  every  day.  New  orders \nfrom  his  Excellency  are  read  to  the  respective \nregiments  every  morning  after  prayers.  The \nstrictest  government  is  taking  place,  and \ngreat  distinction  is  made  between  officers \nand  soldiers.  Every  one  is  made  to  know \nhis  place  and  keep  in'  it.  ...  Thousands \nare  at  work  every  day  from  four  till  eleven \no'clock  in  the  morning.\"  1 \n\n1  \"  Writings  of  Washington,\"  iii,  491. \n\n\n304  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nThis  simple  statement  shows,  in  the  wonder \nof  the  clergyman,  not  merely  how  much  was \nnow  being  done,  but  how  little  had  been  done \nbefore.  As  on  the  day  of  Bunker  Hill,  Ward \nhad  been  a  headquarters  general,  but  Wash- \nington was  \"upon  the  lines.\"  Many  times \nlater  we  find  him  exposing  himself  recklessly ; \nnow  we  see  him  constantly  on  active  patrol \nof  his  outposts,  supervising  the  new  forti- \nfications or  the  carrying  out  of  the  new  regu- \nlations. \n\nApart  from  fortifying,  which  he  drove \nearly  and  late,  his  immediate  difficulties  were \nwith  the  army  organization,  and  these  diffi- \nculties began  immediately.  He  brought  with \nhim  commissions  for  his  major-generals-  and \nbrigadiers,  and  the  commissions  of  the  former \nhe  bestowed  at  once.  The  fourth  major- \ngeneral  was  Putnam  of  Connecticut,  who \nhad  had  as  his  colleague  Joseph  Spencer,  of \nthe  same  colony.  \"General  Spencer's  dis- \ngust,\" wrote  Washington  on  the  loth  of \nJuly,  \"was  so  great  at  General  Putnam's \npromotion,  that  he  left  the  army  without \n\n\nWashington  takes  Command         305 \n\nvisiting  me,  or  making  known  his  intention \nin  any  respect.\"1 \n\nUpon  this,  Washington  prudently  with- \nheld the  other  commissions,  and  proceeded \ncautiously,  with  regard  to  jealousies  among \nthe  officers.  By  careful  diplomacy  he  suc- \nceeded in  retaining  for  the  new  establishment \nthe  services  of  most  of  the  colonial  brigadiers, \nfor  Spencer  returned,  and  Thomas,  who  saw \nhis  juniors  promoted  over  his  head,  agreed \nto  take  rank  beneath  them.  Only  one  among \nthe  new  appointees,  Pomeroy,  the  veteran \nof  Louisburg  who  had  fought  at  the  rail \nfence  at  Bunker  Hill,  declined  his  commission. \nHe  had  marvelled  that  in  the  battle  Warren \nshould  be  taken  and  he,  \"old  and  useless,\" \nbe  left  unhurt.  Now  he  withdrew  from \nfurther  service  on  account  of  his  age ;  yet, \ngoing  later  upon  a  volunteer  expedition,  he \ndied  of  exposure. \n\nBefore  the  jealousies  of  the  higher  officers \nwere  settled,  Washington  turned  to  the  smaller \nfry.  He  now  had  to  meet  the  nature  of  the \n\n1  \"Writings  of  Washington,\"  iii,  23. \n\n\n306  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nNew  England  volunteer.  \"There  is  no  such \nthing,\"  he  wrote  before  very  long,  \"as  getting \nofficers  of  this  stamp  to  carry  orders  into \nexecution.  ...  I  have  made  a  pretty  good \nslam  among  such  kind  of  officers  as  the  Mas- \nsachusetts government  abounds  in,  having \nbroke  one  colonel  and  two  captains  for  cow- \nardly behaviour  in  the  action  on  Bunker \nHill,  two  captains  for  drawing  more  pay  and \nprovision  than  they  had  men  in  their  com- \npany, and  one  for  being  absent  from  his  post \nwhen  the  enemy  appeared  and  burnt  a  house \nclose  by  it.  ...  In  short,  I  spare  none, \nand  yet  fear  it  will  not  all  do,  as  these  people \nseem  to  be  attentive  to  everything  but  their \nown  interest.\"1 \n\nWashington  was  experiencing  the  difficulties \nwhich  Lincoln  was  later  to  know,  in  dealing \nwith  the  host  of  fair-weather  soldiers  and \njobbing  self-seekers  who  come  to  the  front \nat  the  outset  of  a  war.  There  was  every \nreason  why  for  some  time  he  should  estimate \nthe  New  England  character  from  what  he \n\n1  Lodge's  \"Washington,\"  i,  138. \n\n\nWashington  takes  Command         307 \n\nsaw  of  its  worst  side.  Yet  before  the  seven \nyears  of  war  were  over  he  knew  its  better \naspect.  Massachusetts  sent  to  the  war  nearly \ntwice  as  many  men  as  any  other  colony,  and \nConnecticut  was  second.  Measured  by  this \nstandard,  Washington's  own  colony  came \nthird  in  devotion  to  the  cause.1 \n\nWe  know  that  later  he  acknowledged  his \nappreciation  of  the  devotion  of  New  England \nto  the  cause  and  to  his  person.  It  is  par- \nticularly interesting  to  learn  that  he  reversed \nhis  judgment  in  one  of  the  cases  mentioned \nabove.  Among  those  cashiered  for  disobe- \ndience of  orders  and  alleged  cowardice  at \nBunker  Hill  was  John  Callender,  captain \nof  an  artillery  company.  The  trial  went \nagainst  him,  and  Washington  dismissed  him \n\"from  all  further  service  in  the  continental \nservice  as  an  officer.\"  Callender,  determined \nto  wipe  off  the  stain  on  his  honor,  remained \nas  a  private  in  the  artillery  service,  and  found \nhis  opportunity  at  the  battle  of  Long  Island, \nwhere  the  captain  and  lieutenant  of  his \n\n^revelyan's  \"Revolution,\"  Part  I,  378,  footnote. \n\n\n308  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nbattery  were  shot.  \"He  assumed  the  com- \nmand, and,  refusing  to  retreat,  fought  his \npieces  to  the  last.  The  bayonets  of  the \nsoldiers  were  just  upon  him,  when  a  British \nofficer,  admiring  his  chivalrous  and  desperate \ncourage,  interfered  and  saved  him.\"  1  Wash- \nington ordered  the  record  of  Calender's  sen- \ntence to  be  expunged  from  the  orderly  book, \neffected  his  exchange,  and  restored  him  his \ncommission. \n\nYet  in  too  many  of  the  cases  the  sen- \ntence of  incompetence  or  cowardice  was  just. \nEven  when  simple  laxity  of  discipline  was  at \nthe  bottom  of  trouble,  the  effect  was  exas- \nperating. Washington  had  much  to  teach \nthe  minor  members  of  his  army.  That  it \nwas  in  all  outward  aspects  a  truly  volunteer \nassemblage,  we  have  the  testimony  of  an \neye  witness.  \"It  is  very  diverting,\"  wrote  the \nReverend  William  Emerson,  \"to  walk  among \nthe  camps.  They  are  as  different  in  their \n\n1  See  Frothingham's  \"Siege,\"  and  Appendix  III  of \nVol.  3  of  the  \"Writings  of  Washington.\"  Both  of  these \nbooks  quote  Swett's  \"History  of  Bunker  Hill  Battle.\" \n\n\nWashington  takes  Command         309 \n\nform  as  the  owners  are  in  their  dress ;  and \nevery  tent  is  a  portraiture  of  the  temper  and \ntaste  of  the  persons  who  encamp  in  it.  Some \nare  made  of  boards,  and  some  of  sailcloth. \nSome  partly  of  one  and  partly  of  another. \nAgain  others  are  made  of  stone  and  turf, \nbrick  or  brush.  Some  are  thrown  up  in  a \nhurry,  others  curiously  wrought  with  doors \nand  windows,  done  in  wreaths  and  withes  in \nthe  manner  of  a  basket.  Some  are  your \nproper  tents  and  marquees,  looking  like  the \nregular  camp  of  the  enemy.  .  .  .  However, \nI  think  this  great  variety  is  rather  a  beauty \nthan  a  blemish  in  the  army.\"  1 \n\nWhen  we  consider,  however,  that  the  men \nwere  dressed  as  variously  as  they  were  housed, \nand  armed  as  from  a  museum  of  historical \ncuriosities,  we  can  easily  see  that  the  com- \nmander would  not  agree  with  the  clergyman \nthat  such  variety  was  to  be  admired.  We \nfind  him  advocating  the  purchase  of  uniforms. \nIf  nothing  better  can  be  had,  he  will  be  con- \ntent with  hunting-shirts,  since  a  common \n\n1  \"Writings  of  Washington,\"  iii,  491. \n\n\n3io  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\ncostume  would  have  a  \"happy  tendency  to \nunite  the  men,  and  abolish  those  provincial \ndistinctions,  that  lead  to  jealousy  and  dis- \nsatisfaction.\" 1  Washington  strove  also,  but  by \nthe  end  of  the  siege  was  still  unable,  to  provide \nfor  his  men  some  form  of  regulation  firearm. \n\nHe  found,  further,  that  the  number  of  the \ntroops  had  been  overestimated.  After  wait- \ning eight  days  for  returns  which  he  expected \nin  an  hour  after  his  requisition,  he  found \nthat,  instead  of  the  twenty  thousand  troops \nhe  had  been  led  to  hope  for,  he  had  but  six- \nteen thousand  effective  men.  With  these \nhe  had  to  maintain  a  front  of  eight  miles, \nagainst  an  enemy  who  could  at  will  strike \nat  any  point. \n\nIn  such  a  situation  the  only  safeguard \nwas  fortification.  Before  Washington's  ar- \nrival the  redoubts  on  Prospect  and  Winter \nHills  had  been  completed,  with  scattered \nminor  works.  Washington  at  once  began \nby  strengthening  these,  and  by  finishing  all \nuncompleted  works.  Then,  in  a  manner  char- \n\n1  \"  Writings  of  Washington,\"  iii,  22. \n\n\nWashington  takes  Command         311 \n\nacteristic  of  the  whole  siege,  and  which  never \nfailed  to  take  the  British  by  surprise,  one \nAugust  evening  he  sent  a  party  to  Plowed  Hill, \n\"within  point  blank  shot  of  the  enemy  on \nCharlestown  Neck.  We  worked  the  whole \nnight  incessantly  one  thousand  two  hun- \ndred men,  and,  before  morning,  got  an  in- \ntrenchment  in  such  forwardness,  as  to  bid \ndefiance  to  their  cannon.\"  1 \n\nThe  British  cannonaded  for  two  days,  but \nthe  Americans,  finding  to  their  disappoint- \nment that  no  assault  was  intended,  finished \nthe  work  at  their  ease.  Similarly,  as  we \nshall  see,  Washington  later  took  Lechmere's \nPoint,  commanding  the  river  and  the  Back \nBay.  Before  many  weeks  the  works  at \nRoxbury  were  made  \"amazing  strong,\"  and \nthe  rebels  were  in  position  to  welcome  an \nencounter.  But  there  was  no  assault,  and \nWashington  had  instead  to  meet  the  vexa- \ntions of  his  office. \n\nThese  were  often  trivial  enough.  A  com- \npany would  protest  against  the  appointment \n\n1  Ibid.,  iii,  71. \n\n\n312  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nof  an  officer  unknown  to  them,  a  town  would \napply  for  special  guard,  a  prisoner  would \ndemand  the  privilege  of  wearing  his  sword.1 \nWashington  met  such  requests  with  un- \nvarying courtesy,  but  with  firmness  ;  even  to \nthe  governor  of  Connecticut  he  refused  troops \nfor  sea-coast  protection. \n\nOne  little  correspondence  throws  a  gleam \nof  unconscious  humor  on  the  dull  routine \nof  Washington's  correspondence.  Hearing  of \nhardships  suffered,  in  Boston  by  prisoners \ntaken  at  Bunker  Hill,  Washington  wrote  to \nremonstrate.  Gage  returned  answer  two  days \nlater;  its  original  is  found  in  Burgoyne's \nletter  book,  \"as  wrote  by  me.\"  It  begins \nin  the  usual  style  of  the  literary  general : \n\"Sir,  To  the  glory  of  civilized  nations,  hu- \nmanity and  war  have  been  made  almost \ncompatible,  and  compassion  to  the  subdued \nis  become  almost  a  general  system.  Britons, \never  pre-eminent  in  mercy,  have  outgone \n\n1  Washington's  correspondence  with  Major  Christo- \npher French  is  an  interesting  instance  of  the  patience  of \na  great  man  with  the  impatience  of  a  small  one. \n\n\nWashington  takes  Command         313 \n\ncommon  examples,  and  overlooked  the  crimi- \nnal in  the  captive.\"  Entering  a  general \ndenial  of  Washington's  charges,  the  letter \ngoes  on  to  bring  counter-accusations,  and \nfinally,  after  giving  valuable  advice,  the \nwriters  exhort  Washington  —  of  all  men ! \n-to  \"give  free  operation  to  truth.\" \nTruly,  as  Burgoyne's  biographer  admits, \nthere  is  something  irresistibly  ludicrous  in \nthe  spectacle  of  such  generals  lecturing  such \na  man.  The  sequel  was  honorable  to  the \nAmerican  chief.  At  first  determined  to  re- \ntaliate upon  some  prisoners  in  his  hands, \nhe  changed  his  mind,  apparently  because \nthey,  having  been  captured  off  Machias  as \ntheir  vessel  neared  land,  had  \"committed \nno  hostility  against  the  people  of  this \ncountry.\"  1  The  general  therefore  gave  them \n\n1  The  letters  that  passed  between  Washington  and \nGage,  and  later  between  him  and  Howe,  are  to  be  found \nin  the  volumes  of  his  \"Writings,\"  and  make  interesting \nreading.  Washington  had  at  this  time  no  prisoners  in \nhis  hands  other  than  those  taken  as  described,  because \nthe  prisoners  of  the  I9th  of  April  had  been  exchanged  on \nthe  6th  of  June. \n\n\n314  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nthe  practical  freedom  of  the  town  of  Northamp- \nton. \n\nOne  other  correspondence  caused  about \nthis  time  a  flutter  of  excitement.  Charles \nLee  was  one  of  Washington's  four  major- \ngenerals,  a  man  who  had  seen  military  service \nin  many  parts  of  Europe  and  America.  He \nhad  served  in  the  British  army  from  1747 \nuntil  1763,  when,  his  regiment  being  dis- \nbanded, he  served  in  Poland  and  Turkey, \nand  finally,  in  1772,  came  to  America.  Here \nhe  took  up,  almost  violently,  the  cause  of \nfreedom,  perhaps  because  of  disappointment \nin  the  English  service,  perhaps  because  he \nforesaw  opportunity.  At  any  rate,  he  made \nhimself  conspicuous,  and  was  generally  re- \ngarded as  the  foremost  military  man  in \nAmerica,  Washington  alone  excepted.  Events \nproved  that  Lee  acknowledged  no  superior, \nand  impatiently  desired  to  be  rid  of  his \nchief.  Washington  was  always  on  formal \nterms  with  his  subordinate,  no  doubt  because \nhe  read  in  his  character,  besides  a  certain \nability,  an  unstable  temperament  and  a \n\n\nWashington  takes  Command         315 \n\nhasty  judgment.  When  once  Lee  was  at \nCambridge  he  immediately  rushed  into  a \ncorrespondence  with  Burgoyne,  under  whom  he \nhad  served  in  Portugal  thirteen  years  before. \nThe  tone  of  his  letter  was  highly  literary. \nLee  reminded  Burgoyne  of  their  old  friend- \nship, and  then,  with  many  flourishes,  went \nat  his  business.  He  lamented  the  infatuation \nof  the  times,  when  men  of  the  stamp  of  Bur- \ngoyne and  Howe  could  be  seduced  into  an \nimpious  and  nefarious  service,  and  remind- \ning Burgoyne  of  various  bygone  incidents, \ncalled  to  his  mind  his  experience  with  the \nwickedness  and  treachery  of  the  present \ncourt  and  cabinet.  He  spread  himself  at \nlarge  on  the  principles  of  the  present  struggle, \nrejoiced  that  Burgoyne  came  by  command \nof  the  king  rather  than  his  own  desire,  and \nwarned  him  of  the  miscreants  who  had  in- \nfatuated Gage.  Then,  explaining  how  his \nthree  years  in  America  had  acquainted  him \nwith  facts,  Lee  begged  Burgoyne  to  com- \nmunicate the  substance  of  the  letter  to  Howe, \nwho  to  his  horror  seemed  to  be  becoming  the \n\n\n316  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nsatrap  of  an  Eastern  despot.  Protesting  his \ndevotion  to  America  as  the  last  asylum  of \nliberty,  Lee  signed  himself  with  the  greatest \nsincerity  and  affection. \n\nThe  letter  was  written  before  Bunker  Hill, \nbut  not  answered  until  the  8th  of  July.  In \nhis  reply,  Burgoyne  hinted,  with  references \nto  Locke,  Charles  the  First,  and  James  the \nSecond,  that  he  was  equally  well  grounded \nin  the  principles  of  liberty.  He  urged  Lee  to \nlay  his  hand  upon  his  heart,  and  say  whether \nthe  Americans  wanted  freedom  from  taxation \nor  independency.  He,  Burgoyne,  with  the \narmy  and  fleet,  and  the  king  himself,  was \nactuated  only  by  the  desire  to  maintain  the \nlaws.  Then,  having  letters  from  England \nwhich  were  to  be  delivered  into  Lee's  own \nhands,  Burgoyne  proposed  a  personal  inter- \nview at  the  lines  on  Boston  Neck,  and  sent \nthe  compliments  of  Howe,  Clinton,  and  Percy. \n\nIt  must  be  admitted  that  Burgoyne's  pur- \npose in  this  proposal  was  quite  other  than \nto  deliver  letters,  or  even  to  argue  upon \npolitical  differences.  In  a  letter  to  Lord \n\n\nWashington  takes  Command         317 \n\nNorth  Burgoyne  explained  his  real  purpose \nin  entering  into  correspondence  with  a  rebel. \nIn  the  proposed  interview  he  would  have  cut \nLee  short  in  his  paltry  jargon,  and  pressed \nupon  him  the  real  facts  in  the  case.  Next \nhe  would  have  shown  him  the  glory  accruing \nto  a  successful  mediator,  and  then,  playing \nupon  his  pride,  his  interest,  and  his  am- \nbition, would  have  suggested  a  return  to \nhis  allegiance.  Burgoyne  supposed  that  the \nreference  to  a  mediator  would  have  brought \nto  Lee  the  memory  of  General  Monk,  and \nwould  have  flattered  him  with  the  same  in- \ntention to  restore  the  state. \n\nThere  is  upon  this  plan  of  Burgoyne's  but \none  comment  to  be  made,  and  that  has  been \nclearly  stated  by  his  own  biographer.  \"  If  an \nAmerican  General  could  have  been  found  base \nenough  to  purchase  his  restoration  to  the  favour \nof  his  late  Sovereign  by  gross  treachery  to  his \nadopted  country,  an  English  General  should \nsurely  not  have  thought  it  worthy  of  his  charac- \nter and  position  to  bribe  him  to  such  an  act.\"  1 \n\n1  Fonblanque's  \"  Burgoyne.\" \n\n\n318  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nLee  was  not  caught  in  the  trap,  though \nperhaps  not  owing  to  his  own  caution.  Bur- \ngoyne's  letter  was  laid  before  the  Provincial \nCongress,  which  forbade  the  meeting.  In \na  brief  letter  Lee  explained  that  it  was  feared \nthat  the  interview  might  create  jealousies  and \nsuspicions.  Burgoyne  caught  at  this  state- \nment as  showing,  in  the  American  staff, \ndissensions  fruitful  of  future  results ;  but  the \nhope  was  never  justified.  Lee's  future  share \nin  the  siege  faded  into  insignificance,  and \nhis  damage  to  the  American  cause  was  not \nto  come  until  later. \n\nWashington  may  have  supervised  the  cor- \nrespondence and  influenced  its  result.  It \naffected  him  not  at  all,  but  in  the  midst  of \nmany  such  little  affairs  he  found  opportunity \nfor  really  aggressive  work.  Once  he  was  well \nfortified,  the  next  step  was  to  vex  and  disturb \nthe  enemy  by  cutting  off  supplies  by  sea, \nand  making  the  approach  to  Boston  difficult. \nFor  the  latter  purpose  a  detachment  went \nboldly  in  broad  daylight  and  burned  the \nlighthouse  at  the  harbor's  mouth.  Since \n\n\nWashington  takes  Command         319 \n\nthe  first  attempt  was  not  satisfactory,  the \nsame  men  went  again,  and  finished  the  job. \nOther  little  expeditions,  carried  on  against \neither  the  harbor  islands  or  the  shipping \nnear  the  town,  were  successfully  undertaken. \nThe  men  for  such  purposes  were  the  fisher- \nmen of  the  sea-coast  towns,  thrown  out  of \nwork  by  the  fisheries  bill,  and  burning  with \npatriotic  feeling. \n\nWashington  turned  them  to  still  better \naccount  in  beginning  a  navy.  To  be  sure, \nthe  little  fleet  which  presently  was  busily \nat  work  was  at  first  a  spontaneous  growth, \nfor  whenever  a  store-ship  or  king's  sloop  ran \naground  or  made  land  at  the  wrong  harbor, \ndories  and  fishing- vessels  swarmed  out  to  board \nit.  Even  before  Washington's  coming  pri- \nvateers were  acting  for  the  country,  but  with \nno  better  standing  than  pirates,  for  they \nsailed  under  no  flag  and  bore  neither  com- \nmission nor  letters  of  marque.  The  prov- \ninces of  Connecticut  and  Rhode  Island  legal- \nized the  achievements  of  those  who  were  busy \nin  their  waters,  but  for  the  adventurous  spirits \n\n\n320  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nwho  dared  the  men  of  war  in  Massachusetts \nBay  nothing  was  done  until  Washington \nfound  the  way.  Since,  even  though  the \nneed  was  imperative,  he  could  not  properly \nauthorize  the  existence  of  a  navy,  we  find  him, \non  the  second  of  September,  wording  a  com- \nmission in  the  following  manner  :  \"You  being \nappointed  a  captain  in  the  army  of  the  United \nColonies  of  North  America,  are  hereby  di- \nrected to  take  command  of  a  detachment  of \nsaid  army,  and  proceed  on  board  the  schooner \nHannah,  at  Beverly.\"  And  thus  the  Ameri- \ncan Navy  began  its  existence.  Its  vessels \nwere  few  and  small,  being  chiefly  \"converted\" \nfishermen ;  its  purpose  was  to  intercept  stores \nand  gain  information ;  and  it  was  especially \nforbidden  to  engage  with  armed  vessels, \n\"though  you  may  be  equal  in  strength,  or  may \nhave  some  small  advantage.\"  Before  the \nend  of  the  siege  this  little  company  of  vessels \nwas  invaluable  to  Washington. \n\nBut  in  Washington's  army  lay  his  chief \nhopes  —  and  also  his  chief  difficulties.  That \nwhenever  there  was  a  chance  for  a  fight  the \n\n\nWashington  takes  Command         321 \n\nmen  were  very  ardent,  he  was  glad  to  ac- \nknowledge. But  that  when  there  was  noth- \ning to  relieve  the  monotony  of  the  camp \nthey  were  indifferent  to  all  discipline,  he \nknew  only  too  well.  They  were  incorrig- \nible traders  of  uniforms  and  equipment, \nsticklers  for  seniority  upon  but  a  few  months' \nservice,  insistent  for  furloughs  for  return \nto  labor  on  their  own  affairs,  and  trouble- \nsome even  in  demanding  pay  by  lunar  instead \nof  calendar  months.  In  order  that  their \nYankee  ingenuity  might  find  less  time  to  in- \nvent more  trouble  for  him  and  for  themselves, \nWashington  very  sensibly  worked  them  hard \nat  his  fortifying,  \"  Sundays  not  excepted.\" 1 \n\nThere  were,  however,  difficulties  which \ncould  be  got  over  neither  by  work,  nor  by \nthought,  nor  by  gradually  licking  an  army \ninto  shape.  Powder  and  arms  both  were \nlacking. \n\nPowder  was  scarcely-  to  be  had  anywhere. \nIt  was  little  made  in  the  colonies,  especially \nnot  in  the  neighborhood  of  Boston.  Again \n\n1  \"Writings  of  Washington,\"  iii. \n\n\n322  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nand  again  we  find  Washington  writing  for  it, \nand  occasionally  reporting  his  exact  situation. \nMore  than  once  the  army  had  but  nine  rounds \nto  a  man.  On  the  twenty-fourth  of  August \nWashington  writes  :  \"We  have  been  in  a  ter- \nrible situation,  occasioned  by  a  mistake  in  a \nreturn ;  we  reckoned  upon  three  hundred \nquarter  casks,  and  had  but  thirty-two \nbarrels.\"  1  A  few  days  later  the  situation \nwas  better,  but  still  was  bad  enough,  for  he \nwrites :  \"We  have  only  one  hundred  and \neighty-four  barrels  of  powder  in  all  (including \nthe  late  supply  from  Philadelphia),  which  is \nnot  sufficient  to  give  twenty-five  musket \ncartridges  to  each  man,  and  scarcely  to  serve \nthe  artillery  in  any  brisk  action  one  single \nday.\"  He  sent  to  Bermuda  to  seize  a  sup- \nply, but  his  vessels  arrived  too  late.  Supplies \ndid  slowly  dribble  in,  and  sometimes  came \nin  encouraging  quantities  when  a  store-ship \nwas  captured.  But  there  never  was  plenty \non  hand,  and  too  often  not  enough,  for  the \npowder  would  deteriorate  in  bad  weather,  as \n\n1  \"  Writings  of  Washington,\"  iii. \n\n\nWashington  takes  Command         323 \n\nwas  shown  at  a  skirmish  at  Lechmere's  Point. \nAs  the  troops  formed  for  duty,  cartridge \nboxes  were  examined,  \"when  the  melancholy \ntruth  appeared.\"  1  Further,  the  men,  from \nwhom  the  lack  of  powder  was  concealed,  were \nfond  of  amusing  themselves  by  indiscriminate \nshooting.  We  find  General  Greene,  in  an \norder  to  his  troops,  threatening  severe  punish- \nment to  those  who  shot  at  geese  passing  over \nthe  camp.  And  so,  with  little  acquisitions  of \npowder,  and  steady  depletion,  Washington \nwas  never  for  a  day  properly  supplied. \n\nHis  difficulty  in  finding  muskets,  though \nnever  so  great,  was  always  considerable. \nThe  gunsmiths  of  Philadelphia,  who  had  been \nexpected  speedily  to  equip  his  army,  were  not \nable  to  supply  a  satisfactory  portion  of  the \narms  required,  so  that  Washington  was  re- \nduced to  sending  agents  through  the  neigh- \nboring towns  to  buy  guns.  Their  success  was \nsmall.  He  tried  also  to  buy  the  muskets  of \nthose  men  who,  on  the  expiration  of  their \nterm  of  service,  went  home.  Here  again  the \n\n1  Ibid. \n\n\n324  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nresult  was  poor,  for  the  men,  mindful  of  the \npossibility  of  militia  service,  were  very  un- \nwilling to  part  with  their  arms. \n\nYet  the  men  had  an  ineradicable  propensity \nto  dicker  among  themselves.  Arms  and  equip- \nment changed  hands  in  true  Yankee  fashion ; \neven  clothing  was  traded  in,  and  the  camp, \nwhen  the  men  were  off  duty,  must  at  times \nhave  been  as  busy  as  a  market.  Nothing \nbetter  shows  this  than  the  diary  of  David \nHow,  whose  brief  entries  prove  him  to  be  a \ntrue  New  Englander.  Months  later  than \nWashington's  first  attempts  to  buy  arms \nfrom  the  men,  we  find  entries  as  follows. \n\n\"13  (January,  1776)  I  Bought  a  gun  & \nBayonet  &  Cateridge  Box  of  Joseph  Jackson \nand  gave  42/6  Lawfull  Money  for  the  Whole. \nI  have  been  Makeing  Cateridges  this  Day.  .  .  . \n\n\"20  I  Bought  a  frock  &  Trouses  of  Parley \nMacingtyre  and  give  6  /  Law. \n\n\"22  Peter  Gage  Staid  Hear  Last  Night  and \nI  bought  3  Pare  of  Shoes  of  him  @  5  /  6  per \npare  , \n\n\"23  I  sold  a  pare  of  Shoes  for  6/8. \n\n\nWashington  takes  Command         325 \n\n\"  26  I  Sold  my  Cateridge  box  For  4/6  Law- \nfull  Money. \n\n\"  1 6  March  I  sold  my  gun  to  Timothy \nJackson  for  Three  pound  Lawfull  Money.\" \n\nWe  see  in  David  How,  even  when  soldier- \ning, the  qualities  which  later  made  him  one \nof  the  richest  men  in  Haverhill.  The  diary \nshows,  also,  what  appears  to  be  the  visit  to \nthe  camp  of  a  shoe  pedler.  Modern  dis- \nciplinarians would  scarcely  condone  this,  nor \nwould  they  permit  How's  opportunity  of \nmaking  money  when  cooking  for  his  company. \nFor  he  writes  :  — \n\n\"24  day  (January,  1776)  I  Cook  this  day \n&  Bought  3  Barrels  of  Cyder  for  9  /  per  Barrel. \n\n\"25  day  I  Bought  7  Bushels  of  Chesnuts \n&  give  4  pisterens  per  bushel. \n\n\"30  We  have  Sold  Nuts  and  Cyder  Every \nDay  This  Week.\" \n\nIt  was  in  the  face  of  this  well-nigh  incor- \nrigible tendency  to  make  money  out  of  the \nsituation  that  Washington  struggled  to  turn \nhis  militiamen  into  soldiers.  We  gather  from \nhis  orderly  books  that  he  had  difficulties  with \n\n\n326  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\ndisorders  of  many  kinds,  not  the  least  of \nwhich  were  caused  by  the  visits  of  \"pretended \nsuttlers\"1  who  sold  bad  rum.  To  check \ndrunkenness  he  licensed  the  sutlers  and \nlimited  their  activities,  and  for  general  dis- \ncipline he  worked  steadily  to  show  officers \nand  men  alike  what  was  expected  of  them. \nAnd  all  the  time  he  diligently  tried  to  pur- \nchase weapons,  though  with  so  little  success \nthat  at  last  he  even  took  up  the  question  of \nimplements  more  primitive  than  muskets. \nThere  was  in  camp  a  company  of  Stockbridge \nIndians,  who  were  so  successful  as  to  way- \nlay a  British  sentry  or  two  and  kill  them  with \narrows.  Franklin,  perhaps  taking  the  hint \nfrom  this,  wrote  to  prove  that  the  long-bow \nmight  be  revived,  but  Washington  would \nhave  none  of  it.  Pikes,  however,  whose  use \nin  European  warfare  was  fairly  recent,  he \nwould  consider.  A  number  were  ordered, \nand  after  them  a  second  set  of  stronger  make, \nthe  first  being  \"ridiculously  short  and  light.\"  2 \nIn  October  came  to  light  the  treason  of \n\n1  Henshaw's  \"  Orderly  Book.\"  2  Ibid. \n\n\nWashington  takes  Command         327 \n\nDr.  Benjamin  Church.  As  already  shown, \nhe  had  for  some  time  before  the  I9th  of  April \nbeen  in  communication  with  Gage.  On  the \n22d,  when  he  went  into  Boston  with  the \nknowledge  of  the  Committee  of  Safety,  he \ndoubtless  saw  the  general  in  person.  An \noccurrence  now  showed  that  he  was  writing \nto  the  British  commander,  though  his  agency \nwas  not  at  first  suspected.  From  Newport \ncame  a  letter,  brought  by  an  American \npatriot  to  whom  it  had  been  given  by  a \nwoman  from  Cambridge,  who  had  requested \nto  have  it  delivered  to  some  officer  of  the \nBritish  vessel  stationed  in  the  harbor.  The \nAmerican  kept  the  letter,  and,  suspecting  its \npurport,  opened  it.  It  was  in  cipher.  This \nin  itself  was  suspicious,  and  the  letter  was \nbrought  to  Washington,  who  caused  the \nwoman  to  be  arrested  and  questioned.  At \nfirst  she  was  obstinate,  but  finally  she  named \nChurch  as  the  writer  of  the  letter.  He  in  his \nturn  was  put  under  guard,  but  had  had  time \nto  destroy  any  papers  that  might  betray \nhim.  The  letter  when  deciphered  proved  to \n\n\n328  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\ngive  little  information  besides  the  numbers \nof  the  American  forces.  From  first  to  last \nChurch  had  been  of  little  value  to  Gage. \n\nBut  the  army  and  country,  as  Washington \nwrote,  were  \"exceedingly  irritated.\"  Church \nwas  a  man  of  pleasing  address  and  ready \nlanguage,  and  had  stood  high  in  Boston  for \nyears.  He  had  written  Whig  pamphlets,  had \nbeen  an  orator  on  the  Massacre,  and  had \nserved  on  many  committees,  notably  the \nCommittee  of  Safety.  In  consequence  he \nhad  been  given  the  highest  office  that  a  phy- \nsician could  look  for,  that  of  surgeon-general \nto  the  army.  Resentment  at  his  betrayal \nwas  extreme,  and  Abigail  Adams  was  prob- \nably right  when  she  wrote,  \"If  he  is  set  at \nliberty,  even  after  he  has  received  a  severe \npunishment,  I  do  not  think  he  will  be  safe.\" \n\nChurch  was  not  set  free.  As  a  member  of \nthe  Massachusetts  Congress  he  was  brought \nbefore  the  House,  and  allowed  to  make  his \ndefence,  which  was  elaborate  and  able. \nChurch  claimed  that  he  was  writing  to  his \nbrother,  and  that  his  intentions  were  harm- \n\n\nWashington  takes  Command         329 \n\nless ;  but  he  was  not  believed,  and  was  ex- \npelled from  the  House.  Later  the  Continen- \ntal Congress  adjudged  him  guilty,  and  ordered \nhim  confined  in  jail.  Released  later  on  ac- \ncount of  his  health,  he  was  allowed  to  sail \nfor  the  West  Indies.  His  vessel  was  never \nagain  heard  from. \n\nThis  was  Washington's  foretaste  of  the \ntreason  of  Arnold.  It  may  have  disturbed \nhim  deeply,  but  of  that  he  gave  no  sign.  So \nfar  as  we  can  see,  he  dismissed  the  matter \nfrom  his  mind  and  went  on  with  his  work  of \nproviding  a  way  for  assaulting  the  town. \nCongress  desired  this,  the  country  looked  for \nit,  and  his  own  fiery  nature  urged  him  to  the \nrisk. \n\nOn  the  nth  of  September,  having  pre- \nviously notified  his  generals  that  he  would \nlay  the  question  before  them,  he  had  called  a \ncouncil  of  war,  and  proposed  an  attack  upon \nBoston.  They  were  unanimously  against  it. \nNow,  in  October,  he  again  laid  the  matter \nbefore  his  council  of  war,  and  reached  prac- \ntically the  same  result,  General  Greene  alone \n\n\n330  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nthinking  the  scheme  practical,  \"if  ten  thou- \nsand men  could  be  landed  at  Boston.\"  1  If  it \nis  true  that  councils  of  war  do  not  fight,  the \nresult  was  natural ;  but  the  situation  was  a \nvery  difficult  one.  The  British  had  made \nCharlestown  practically  impregnable  against \nanything  except  surprise,  by  a  powerful  re- \ndoubt on  Bunker  Hill.  As  for  Boston  itself, \nit  was  fortified  at  all  prominent  points,  and \nwas  very  strongly  garrisoned  by  veteran \ntroops.  The  Neck  could  not  be  forced,  and \nto  cross  in  boats  over  the  Back  Bay  was \na  hazardous  undertaking.  It  was  common \nsense,  therefore,  to  wait  until  ice  should  make \nit  possible  to  assault  the  town  at  several \npoints.  With  his  wonderful  patience  Wash- \nington accepted  the  situation,  and  contented \nhimself  with  wishing  that  the  British  would \nattack  him.  There  were  continual  rumors \nthat  the  British  plan  was  laid,  and  deserters \nfrequently  came  from  Boston  prophesying  a \nsally;  but  still  the  regulars  lay  in  their  fast- \nness, and  did  not  move. \n\n1  Trevelyan's  \"Revolution,\"  Part  I. \n\n\nCHAPTER  XII \n\nEVENTS  IN  BOSTON  FROM  JUNE  TO  DECEMBER, \n\nI77S \n\nTHE  history  of  events  in  Boston  after \nthe  battle  of  Bunker  Hill  is  of  a  quite \ndifferent  tenor  from  that  which  we  have \njust  been  considering.  From  the  time  when \nthe  wounded,  and  the  more  distinguished  of \nthe  dead,  were  carried  over  from  Charles  town \non  the  evening  of  the  seventeenth  of  June,  the \nsober  truth  struck  home,  not  yet  to  the \nTories  and  the  common  run  of  officers,  but \nto  the  generals.  They  were  in  a  tight  place, \nfrom  which  it  would  be  difficult  to  escape  with \ncredit. \n\nThey  might  —  and  some  of  them  did  — \nreckon  it  out  by  common  arithmetic.  If  it \ncost  a  thousand  men  to  take  a  hill,  and  re- \nquired another  thousand  to  garrison  it  when \ntaken,  how  much  could  the  British  army \n\n331 \n\n\n33  2  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nmaster  of  the  rolling  country  that  lay  before \nits  eyes  ?  Beyond  the  exit  from  either  pen- \ninsula the  next  hill  was  already  fortified,  and \nthe  Americans  prepared  to  \"sell  it  at  the \nsame  price.\"  l \n\nThe  British  generals  wrote  very  plainly  in \nexplaining  the  situation  to  their  superiors  at \nhome.  To  be  sure,  Gage  was  a  trifle  disin- \ngenuous in  reviewing  the  past.  While  ad- \nmitting that  the  recent  trials  at  arms  proved \nthe  rebels  \"not  the  despicable  rabble  too \nmany  have  supposed  them  to  be,\"  he  ignored \nhis  original  boast  concerning  lions  and \nlambs.  In  stating  that  in  all  previous  wars \nthe  Americans  had  never  showed  so  much \n\"conduct,  attention,  and  perseverance,\"  he \nadmitted  his  ignorance  of  colonial  history. \nBut  Gage  was  endeavoring  to  salve  his  smart \nand  conceal  his  own  shame. \n\nBurgoyne,  with  nothing  to  palliate,  wrote \nvery  frankly.  \"Look,  my  Lord,\"  he  said  to \nthe  Secretary  of  State  for  the  Colonies, \n\n1  This  expression  is  ascribed  to  General  Nathanael \nGreene. \n\n\nJune  to  December  in  Boston         3^3 \n\n(ftittario \n\n\"upon  the  country  near  Boston.  It  is  ailfr \nfortification.\"  His  mathematics  has  been  al- \nready quoted;  he  adds  that  the  army  had \nnothing  for  transport  in  an  active  campaign  of \nany  duration.  Proceeding,  he  delicately  points \nout  that  Gage  was  not  the  man  for  the  situation, \nand  laments  again  that  the  general  had  no \nmeans  of  knowing  what  passed  in  the  American \ncouncils,  or  even  within  the  American  lines. \nThis  is  but  another  proof,  if  one  were  needed, \nof  the  poor  use  to  which  Church  had  put  his \nopportunities.  Surely  he,  as  Arnold  later, \nsold  his  soul  to  little  purpose.  Few  things  in \nthis  campaign  are  more  honorable  to  America \nthan  the  fact  that  Washington's  most  pre- \ncious secret,  his  lack  of  powder,  though \nknown  to  many,  never  came  to  the  ears  of \nthe  British  generals.  One  may  question  if \nthe  truth,  if  told,  would  have  been  believed, \nfor  men  of  Gage  and  Howe's  training  could \nscarcely  suppose  a  man  capable  of  such  dar- \ning and  dogged  obstinacy  as  to  hold  his  post \nbefore  them  without  powder,  or  guns,  or,  as \nit  finally  turned  out,  almost  without  men. \n\n\n334  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nBut  no  statement  has  been  made  that  the \ncommanders  heard  even  rumors  of  Washing- \nton's difficulties. \n\nAfter  Bunker  Hill,  then,  the  British  gen- \nerals plainly  saw  that  they  could  never  cam- \npaign successfully  with  Boston  as  a  base. \nAs  to  what  should  best  be  done,  Gage  had  no \nidea ;  Burgoyne,  however,  was  ready  with  a \nplan.  He  proposed  to  keep  in  Boston  as \nsmall  a  garrison,  supported  by  as  small  a \nfleet,  as  could  safely  be  left,  and  to  send  the \nrest  of  the  troops  and  ships  to  harry  the \ncoast.  This  proposition,  if  by  the  vague \nterm  of  chastisement  he  meant  the  burning  of \ndefenceless  towns,  was  unworthy  of  Burgoyne ; \nbut  when  later  he  proposed  with  this  de- \ntached force  to  occupy  Rhode  Island,  doubt- \nless using  Newport  as  a  base,  he  outlined  a \nplan  which,  if  followed,  would  have  seriously \nembarrassed  the  Americans.  But  the  advice \nwas  not  taken,  and  for  months  the  British \ngenerals  contented  themselves  with  wishing \nthey  were  at  New  York,  without  taking  any \nsteps  toward  going  there. \n\n\nJune  to  December  in  Boston         335 \n\nOne  thing  at  least  they  should  have  done. \nIt  will  be  remembered  that  the  American \noccupancy  of  Bunker  Hill  had  been  pre- \ncipitated by  knowledge  of  a  British  plan  to \ntake  Dorchester  Heights.  This  plan  of  Gage's \nwas  not  abandoned  after  the  battle.  It  is \nspoken  of  in  a  letter  of  Burgoyne's,  and  is \nlaid  down  as  a  part  of  his  scheme  to  make \nBoston  secure  while  his  marauding  fleet \nmenaced  southern  New  England.  We  are \neven  able  to  suppose  that  feeble  moves  toward \nseizing  the  Heights  were  twice  made.  Once \na  couple  of  regiments,  on  transports,  dropped \ndown  the  channel ;  and  once  two  regiments \nwere  withdrawn  from  Charlestown  to  Boston, \nwith  various  companies  from  the  castle. \nLieutenant  Barker  gives  the  reason  why  in \nthe  latter  case  nothing  was  done:  \"the \nGenl.  hearing  that  they  had  got  intelligence \nand  reinforced  that  place  with  4000  men.\" \nBut  this  is  mere  rumor;  the  Americans  had \nnot  yet  sent  any  troops  into  Dorchester. \nThis  leaves  us  very  much  in  the  dark  as  to \nwhy  the  Heights  were  not  occupied ;  but \n\n\n336  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\noccupied  they  were  not ;  the  plan  receives  no \nfurther  mention,  and  though  from  month  to \nmonth  the  British  watched  Washington  seiz- \ning posts  ever  nearer  to  Boston,  they  behaved \nin  all  respects  as  if  he  were  under  pledge  to \navoid  Dorchester. \n\nGage's  chief  activity  was  in  fortifying.  He \nstrengthened  his  existing  works,  and  en- \ntrenched himself  particularly  well  at  Bunker \nHill.  As  the  American  redoubt  was  of  little \nvalue  to  the  British,  they  made  their  main \ndefence  upon  the  top  of  the  higher  hill,  and \nmounted  guns  to  sweep  Charlestown  Neck \nand  the  country  beyond.  Little  by  little \nboth  Gage  and  his  successor  strengthened  this \npost,  cutting  down  trees  for  abatis,  and \nmaking  advanced  posts  similar  to  those  at \nBoston  Neck.  Before  the  end  of  the  siege \nit  was  the  strongest  British  post,  and  Wash- \nington knew  better  than  to  molest  it,  es- \npecially when  he  had  a  better  move  to  make. \n\nActual  military  operations  were  trifling. \nIn  retaliation  for  an  American  attack,  on  the \n3Oth  of  July  the  regulars  made  a  sally  from \n\n\nJune  to  December  in  Boston         337 \n\nBoston  toward  Roxbury,  drove  in  the  Ameri- \ncan advance  guard,  and  burnt  a  house  or \ntwo.  The  undertaking  appears  to  have  been \nwithout  object,  and  resulted  in  nothing  except \nsome  harmless  cannonading.  At  other  times \narmed  boats  ventured  along  the  Cambridge \nshore,  or  tried  the  rivers,  always  to  be  sent \nback  by  the  bullets  of  Yankee  sharpshooters. \nWhen  the  Virginia  riflemen  appeared,  however, \nthere  was  less  of  this  diversion.  These  men, \nfinding  themselves  debarred  from  the  larger \nfield  operations,  resolved  at  least  to  get \nsomething  in  return  for  their  long  march. \nSo  they  set  themselves  to  watch  for  the \nappearance  of  British  exploring  parties,  and \neven  stalked  the  sentries.  The  officers  in- \ndignantly complained  that  this  was  not  war \naccording  to  rule,  but  both  they  and  their \nsentries  took  care  not  to  expose  themselves. \nThe  largest  operation  undertaken  by  the \nBritish  was  at  the  approach  of  winter,  when \nearly  in  November  they  sent  a  small  force \nto  Lechmere's  Point,  at  a  time  when  a  very \nhigh  tide  had  converted  the  place  into  an \n\n\n338  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nisland.  They  took  a  few  cows,  and  lost  a \ncouple  of  men ;  on  retiring  they  pointed  to \nthe  American  unwillingness  to  attack  them, \nbut  this,  as  we  have  already  learned,  was  on \naccount  of  the  spoiled  cartridges. \n\nAll  these  operations,  it  will  be  seen,  took \nplace  practically  within  the  limits  of  the \nBack  Bay  and  its  adjacent  waters,  into \nwhich  flowed  the  Charles  River  and  a  few \ncreeks.  Once  or  twice  British  boats  tried  to \nexplore  the  Mystic,  but  with  the  coming  of \nthe  riflemen  that  diversion  stopped.  When \nfinally  the  Yankees  dragged  whale-boats  to \nthe  Mystic  and  Charles,  and  began  building \nfloating  batteries  on  their  own  account,  British \ncuriosity  as  to  the  American  shore-line  lapsed \nentirely. \n\nDown  the  harbor  Gage  did  nothing,  except \nto  send,  tardily,  to  repel  American  expedi- \ntions. We  have  seen  that  the  British  could \nnot  save  the  lighthouse.  The  Yankee  fisher- \nmen now  took  occasion  to  remove  from  the \nislands  the  hay  and  live  stock  which  they \nhad  not  taken  before  Bunker  Hill.  Their \n\n\nJune  to  December  in  Boston         339 \n\nactivities  drew  from  Burgoyne  an  indignant \nletter. \n\n\"It  may  be  asked  in  England,  'What  is \nthe  Admiral  doing  ? ' \n\n\"I  wish  I  were  able  to  answer  that  ques- \ntion satisfactorily,  but  I  can  only  say  what \nhe  is  not  doing. \n\n\"That  he  is  not  supplying  us  with  sheep \nand  oxen,  the  dinners  of  the  best  of  us  bear \nmeagre  testimony;  the  state  of  our  hospitals \nbears  a  more  melancholy  one. \n\n\"He  is  not  defending  his  own  flocks  and \nherds,  for  the  enemy  have  repeatedly  plun- \ndered his  own  islands. \n\n\"He  is  not  defending  the  other  islands  in \nthe  harbour,  for  the  enemy  in  force  landed \nfrom  a  great  number  of  boats,  and  burned \nthe  lighthouse  at  noonday  (having  first  killed \nor  taken  the  party  of  marines  which  was \nposted  there)  almost  under  the  guns  of  two \nor  three  men-of-war. \n\n\"He  is  not  employing  his  ships  to  keep \nup  communication  and  intelligence  with  the \nKing's  servants  and  friends  at  different  parts \n\n\n340  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nof  the  continent,  for  I  do  not  believe  that \nGeneral  Gage  has  received  a  letter  from \nany  correspondent  out  of  Boston  these  six \nweeks. \n\n\"He  is  intent  upon  greater  objects,  you \nwill  think,  —  supporting  in  the  great  points \nthe  dignity  of  the  British  flag,  —  and  where \na  number  of  boats  have  been  built  for  the \nenemy ;  privateers  fitted  out ;  prizes  carried \nin ;  the  King's  armed  vessels  sunk  ;  the  crews \nmade  prisoners ;  the  officers  killed,  —  he  is \ndoubtless  enforcing  instant  restitution  and \nreparation  by  the  voice  of  his  cannon  and \nlaying  the  towns  in  ashes  that  refuse  his \nterms  ?  Alas  !  he  is  not.\"  1 \n\nBurgoyne  finishes  his  indictment  by  lump- \ning with  the  admiral's  inefficiencies  the \nweaknesses  of  quartermaster-generals,  adju- \ntant-generals, secretaries,  and  commissaries. \nIn  all  this  we  catch  a  glimpse  of  one \nresult  of  the  king's  policy,  which  was  to \nreward  his  friends  and  rebuke  his  enemies. \nSince  he  classed  with  his  enemies  the  Whigs \n\n1  Fonblanque's  \"Burgoyne,\"  197-198. \n\n\nJune  to  December  in  Boston         341 \n\nwho  were  at  home,  he  had  only  Tories  to \ndraw  from.  From  them  came  Admiral  Graves, \nand  the  crowd  of  incompetents  who  filled \noffices  in  America.  The  royal  service  was \nnow  paying  the  piper. \n\nOne  result  Burgoyne  has  noted  very \nplainly,  in  the  lack  of  fresh  provision.  The \nadmiral  could  have  protected  the  stock  on \nthe  harbor  islands,  and  without  unnecessary \nviolence  could  have  seized  provisions  from \nthe  shore  towns.  This,  however,  he  did  not \ndo,  and  we  soon  find  the  army  complaining \nof  its  fare.  It  was  not  that  the  commissary \nwas  negligent ;  even  the  moneyed  officers \nwere  at  times  unable  to  satisfy  their  desire \nfor  fresh  meat,  the  supply  of  which  was  un- \ncertain. For  lack  of  hay,  the  milk  supply \nsoon  disappeared,  since  cows  could  not  be \nfed  and  had  to  be  killed.  Cheerful  news \ncame  to  the  American  camp  that  the  vener- \nable town  bull  had  been  sold  for  beef.  The \narmy  even  tired  of  its  supply  of  fish,  which, \nto  be  sure,  never  was  great,  though  then  as \nnow  Boston  lay  close  to  good  fishing  grounds. \n\n\n342  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nSalt  pork  was  the  main  reliance,  and  before \nthe  middle  of  the  summer  the  army  had  had \naltogether  too  much  of  that. \n\nIn  consequence  of  this  restricted  diet  the \nwounded  from  Bunker  Hill  died  in  great \nnumbers.  Of  the  wounded  American  prison- \ners very  few  survived.  Some,  as  Washington \nheard,  were  operated  on  in  the  common  jail, \nin  which  most  of  them  were  confined,  and \nwhere  the  chances  of  their  recovery  were \nslight.  They  fared  \"very  hard,\"  said  John \nLeach,  who  had  opportunity  to  know;  not \none  of  them  survived  amputation.  As  to  the \nrest,  there  can  be  no  question  that  they  were \nbadly  treated.  Theii;  doctor  complained  that \nthey  had  had  no  bread  for  two  days ;  the \nProvost  replied  \"they  might  eat  the  Nail \nHeads,  and  knaw  the  plank  and  be  damn'd.\"  l \nTheir  more  fortunate  fellow-prisoners,  who \nwere  not  taken  in  arms  and  who  received  food \nfrom  their  families  in  Boston,  sent  the  Bun- \nker Hill  prisoners  what  comforts  they  could \nbribe  the  soldiers  to  take  to  them ;  but,  says \n\nReach's  \"Journal.\" \n\n\nJune  to  December  in  Boston         343 \n\nLeach's  diary,  \"they  have  no  Wood  for  days \ntogether,  to  Warm  their  Drink,  and  dying \nmen  drink  them  cold.\"  By  the  2ist  of  Sep- \ntember eighteen  out  of  twenty-nine  prisoners \nhad  died  in  the  jail. \n\nYet  even  the  British  wounded  showed  a \nhigh  mortality.  This  was  largely  on  account \nof  the  food,  which,  although  it  was  the  best \nthat  was  to  be  had,  was  none  too  good  for \nsuifering  men.  The  high  death  rate  was  in \npart  due  to  the  American  marksmanship, \nwhich  caused  many  body  wounds.  What \nwith  such  wounds,  and  such  food,  and  the \nunaccustomed  heat,  there  were  so  many \ndeaths  among  the  wounded  that  it  was  se- \nriously stated  that  the  American  bullets  were \npoisoned. \n\nThere  was,  then,  considerable  discontent \namong  the  British  soldiery.  Of  it  at  one \ntime  the  Americans  took  ingenious  advantage. \nWhen  the  wind  was  setting  toward  the  British \nlines  at  Charlestown,  the  Americans  at  the \nMedford  lines  scattered  handbills  that  were \ndriven  to  the  British  sentries.  On  the  bills \n\n\n344  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nwas  to  be  read  a  comparison  intended  to  in- \ncrease British  discontent.     It  ran  : — \n\nPROSPECT    HILL  BUNKERS    HILL \n\nI.    Seven    dollars    a  I.   Three   pence   a \n\nmonth.  day. \n\nII.   Fresh    provisions  II.   Rotten   salt   pork, \nand   in   plenty. \n\nIII.  Health.  III.   The   scurvy. \n\nIV.  Freedom,   ease,  IV.   Slavery,    beggary, \n\naffluence,   and  and  want, \n\na   good   farm. \n\nThese  handbills  thus  coming  into  the  hands \nof  the  privates  were  passed  about  secretly, \nuntil  the  officers  got  wind  of  the  device,  and \ncomplained  to  the  Americans.  The  retort \nwas  that  the  British  themselves  had  already \nbeen  tempting  sentries  to  desert.  This  de- \nserting did  go  on  throughout  the  siege,  from \neither  side,  though  it  would  seem  as  if  more \nof  the  British  fled  from  their  service.  Into \nwhichever  lines  they  went,  the  deserters \nalways  brought  highly  colored  tales  to  buy \ntheir  welcome.  The  leaders  very  soon  learned \nhow  little  reliance  could  be  placed  upon  such \n\n\nJune  to  December  in  Boston         345 \n\ninformation.  \"We  ought  not  to  catch  at \nsuch  shadows  as  that.  We  have  nothing \nunder  God  to  depend  upon,  but  our  own \nstrength.\"  1 \n\nIf  the  British  private  was  discontented, \nthat  was  his  habit;  and  though  the  officers \ngrumbled  as  well,  they  had  comparatively \nlittle  to  complain  of.  To  be  sure,  the  food \nwas  coarse,  but  it  was  plentiful.  Even  the \nunaccustomed  heat  would  seem  comfortable \nto  a  Bostonian  of  to-day.  The  marine  officers \nhad  more  pleasant  conditions,  with  their  open \nports  and  harbor  breezes,  and  decks  frequently \nsluiced  with  water.  But  the  town  itself  had \nno  tall  buildings  or  confined  spaces ;  gener- \nally speaking,  it  was  open  from  water  to \nwater,  with  plentiful  shade.  Boston  in  1775 \nmust  have  been  as  cool  as  its  own  summer \nresorts  of  the  twentieth  century. \n\nThe  Tories,  at  least,  found  it  bearable. \nThey  were  accustomed  to  the  summer  heat, \nand  knew  themselves  much  better  off  than \n\n1  William  T.  Miller,  of  Newport,  R.I.,  to  his  wife \nLydia.  Mass.  Hist,  and  Gen.  Register,  1855. \n\n\n346  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nthe  unfortunate  members  of  their  party  who \nhad  been  unable  to  escape  to  the  British \nlines.  Many  of  the  country  Tories  were  con- \nfined to  their  estates,  and  forbidden  to  com- \nmunicate with  each  other.  \"I  wish  to  God,\" \nwrote  Samuel  Paine,  \"all  our  friends  were \nhere  out  of  the  hands  of  such  Villains.\"  Com- \npared with  such  treatment,  serenades  by \nthirteen-inch  mortars  and  twenty-four  pound- \ners were  apparently  trifling  —  though  the \nladies  did  not  think  so.  One,  writing  of  the \nskirmish  on  the  night  of  July  30,  spoke  of \nthe  umost  dreadful  cannonading,\"  and  \"the \napprehensions  that  naturally  seize  every  one, \neither  of  the  enemy  breaking  in,  or  the  town \nbeing  set  on  fire.\"  1  Even  Samuel  Paine  saw \nthe  serious  side  of  the  situation.  \"These,\"  he \nasks,  \"are  Governor  Hutchinson's  countrymen \nthat  would  not  fight,  are  they  ?\" \n\nIt  was  because  he  realized  that  fight  they \nwould,  \"and  like  the  devil,\"  that  he  and \nothers  considered  enlisting  in  the  various \ncorps  which  were  organized  in  the  town. \n\n1  Frothingham's  \"Siege,\"  230. \n\n\nJune  to  December  in  Boston         347 \n\nAccording  to  Frothingham,  who  could  find \nno  statistics  of  the  numbers  of  Tory  volun- \nteers, there  were  at  least  three  corps  formed  : \nthe  Loyal  American  Associators  under  Tim- \nothy Ruggles,  the  Loyal  Irish  Volunteers \nunder  James  Forrest,  and  the  Royal  Fenci- \nble  Americans  under  Colonel  Graham.1  Ac- \ncording to  Samuel  Paine,  there  was  a  fourth \ncorps,  but  it  is  not  named.  A  commis- \nsion in  one  of  these  organizations  was  par- \nticularly attractive,  as  the  service  was  ex- \npected to  be  short,  and  at  its  expiration  the \nofficers  were  to  go  upon  half  pay.  Further, \nthe  duties  were  very  light,  being  confined \nto  drilling  and  patrolling  the  town.  In  the \nmilitary  events  of  the  siege  these  corps  took \nno  part  whatever. \n\nIt  must  be  remembered,  however,  that  out \nof  this  situation  England  did  gain  some \nvaluable  soldiers.  The  mettle  of  a  few \nof  the  Tories  was  shown  at  Bunker  Hill, \nwhere  they  went  as  individual  volunteers, \nand  served  with  the  troops.  Others,  dis- \n\n1  Ibid.,  279. \n\n\n348  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\ndaining  the  toy-soldiering  of  their  friends, \nseized  the  chance  to  join  the  regular  army, \nand  fought  in  it  throughout  the  war,  or  until \ntheir  deaths.  Such  men  were  John  Coffin, \nLeverett  Saltonstall,  and  the  two  Thomas \nGilberts. \n\nYet  men  of  this  quality  were  few,  and  at \nleast  at  this  stage  of  the  war  the  Tories  were \nof  little  service  to  their  king.  Most  of  them \nwere  content  to  wait  until  the  time  when \nthe  regulars  should  scatter  the  besiegers  and \nconduct  the  loyalists  to  their  homes.  Mean- \nwhile they  enjoyed  the  society  into  which \nthey  were  thrown.  \"We  have  here,\"  wrote \nSamuel  Paine,  \"Earls,  Lords,  and  Baronets, \nI  assure  you  Names  that  Sound  grand.\" \nThese  names  did  bring  to  the  Tories  a \nfair  amount  of  social  gayety.  Mrs.  Gage \nwas  at  the  head  of  her  own  little  circle,  not \nalways  enjoyed  by  those  who  could  not  for- \nget her  American  birth.  There  were  other \ngroups  of  ladies  who,  whether  English  or \nTory,  contrived  to  make  the  time  pass  pleas- \nantly for  themselves  and  for  the  men.  With \n\n\nJune  to  December  in  Boston         349 \n\nfew  responsibilities,  and  with  confidence  in  the \nfuture,  the  loyalists  had  a  pleasant  enough \nsummer,  and  saw  ahead  of  them  a  comfort- \nable winter. \n\nThe  situation  of  the  Whigs  was  not  so  en- \njoyable. Before  Bunker  Hill,  every  one  of \nthem  who  could  leave  Boston  had  done  so. \nBut  there  were  many  of  them  left,  and  among \nthem  were  a  number  of  the  more  respectable \nand  prominent  of  the  Whigs.  None  of  them \nwrote  letters,  and  few  indeed  kept  diaries  ;  there \nis,  therefore,  a  notable  lack  of  information  con- \ncerning their  doings.  We  do  know,  however, \nthat  they  were  at  a  great  disadvantage  as \nagainst  their  Tory  acquaintances.  No  priv- \nileges of  the  commissary  were  theirs,  and  no \nfavors  were  to  be  had  from  the  military \nauthorities.  When  there  was  fresh  meat  in \nthe  town  the  Whigs  could  get  little  of  it \nwithout  repudiating  their  political  creed ; \nwhen  the  supply  was  scant,  the  Whigs  went \nwithout.  \"They  even  denied  us,\"  wrote \nJohn  Andrews,  looking  back  upon  this  period, \n\"the  privilege  of  buying  the  surplusage  of \n\n\n350  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nthe  soldiers'  rations.\"  Even  before  Bunker \nHill  he  had  written,  \"  It's  hard  to  stay  cooped \nup  here  and  feed  upon  salt  provisions,  more \nespecially  without  one's  wife.  .  .  .  Pork \nand  beans  one  day,  and  beans  and  pork \nanother,  and  fish  when  we  can  catch  it.\" \nThroughout  the  summer  the  situation  was \nlittle  bettered.  \"A  loaf  of  bread  the  size  we \nformerly  gave  three  pence  for,  thought  our- \nselves well  off  to  get  for  a  shilling.  Butter \nat  two  shillings.  Milk,  for  months  without \ntasting  any.\" \n\nThere  were  certain  Whigs  whose  experiences \nwere  more  grim.  To  Gage,  always  in  fear  of \nbetrayal  to  the  enemy,  there  came  rumors \npointing  to  men  whose  known  sentiments, \nor  whose  actions,  subjected  them  to  suspicion. \nAmong  these  were  one  Carpenter,  a  barber, \nwho  had  swum  to  Cambridge  and  back ; \none  \"Dorrington,  his  son  and  maid,  for  blow- \ning up  flies\" 1 ;  but  particularly  John  Leach \nand  James  Lovell,  schoolmasters,  with  Peter \n\n1  This  obscure  diversion  caused  the  Dorringtons  to \nbe  suspected  of  signalling  at  night  to  the  rebels. \n\n\nJune  to  December  in  Boston         351 \n\nEdes,  printer,  and  his  father's  partner,  John \nGill.  All  of  these  four  were  obnoxious  to  the \nTories,  being  outspoken  Whigs  and  teachers \nof  sedition,  whether  in  their  schools  or  their \npublications.  One  by  one  they  were  im- \nprisoned in  the  common  jail,  and  held  there \nduring  various  terms.  Their  treatment  was \nharsh  and  ungenerous,  held  in  close  neighbor- \nhood with  felons  and  loose  livers,  and  not  in- \nformed of  what  they  were  accused.  Leach  and \nEdes  kept  diaries  when  in  prison.  \"From \nthe  2d  July  to  the  I7th,\"  writes  Leach,  \"a \nComplicated  scene  of  Oaths,  Curses,  De- \nbauchery, and  the  most  horrid  Blasphemy, \ncommitted  by  the  Provost  Marshal,  his \nDeputy  and  Soldiers,  who  were  our  guard, \nSoldier  prisoners,  and  sundry  soldier  women, \nconfined  for  Thefts,  &c.  .  .  .  When  our \nWives,  Children,  and  Friends  came  to  see  us, \n(which  was  seldom  they  were  permitted)  we \nseemed  to  want  them  gone,  notwithstanding \nwe  were  desirous  of  their  Company,  as  they \nwere  exposed  to  hear  the  most  abandon'd \nlanguage,  as  was  grating  to  the  ears  of  all \n\n\n352  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nsober  persons.\"  This  Leach  suspected  to \nbe  intentional,  but  the  offensive  actions  and \nwords  were  incessant,  especially  on  Sundays. \nOn  the  i yth  Leach's  son  died,  \"whom  I \nleft  well  in  my  house\"  ;  but  he  was  not  allowed \nto  attend  the  funeral,  nor  to  be  tried,  nor \ndismissed.  Three  weeks  after  he  and  Lovell \nhad  been  put  in  jail  they  first  learned  of  what \nthey  were  accused:  Lovell  of  \"being  a  Spy, \nand  giving  intelligence  to  the  rebels,\"  and \nLeach  of  \"being  a  spy,  and  suspected  of \ntaking  plans.\"  Their  examination  was  a \nfarce,  the  witness  against  them  not  knowing \nthem  apart.  They  were  remanded  to  jail, \nand  lay  there  until  October.  Lovell  fell  sick, \nand  got  a  little  better  food,  but  no  attention \nfrom  his  jailers  —  \"no  Compassion  toward  him \nany  more  than  a  Dog.\"  On  the  same  day \nLeach  noted  that  the  Provost  \"Cursed  and \nDamned  my  little  Child,  for  a  Damn'd  Rebel ; \nhe  even  Trembles  at  bringing  my  Diet.\" \nLovell  grew  better,  and  the  vexatious  treat- \nment continued  with  petty  tyrannies.  At \nlast,  although  no  trial  had  yet  been  held,  Edes, \n\n\nJune  to  December  in  Boston         353 \n\nGill,  and  Leach  were  released  upon  sureties \nof  two  inhabitants  that  they  would  not  leave \nthe  town. \n\nLovell  was  kept  in  jail.  He  was  son  of \nMaster  John  Lovell  of  the  Latin  School,  in \nwhich  he  was  usher  until  the  opening  of  the \nwar.  His  frank  utterances  had  so  incensed \nthe  authorities  that  they  kept  him  in  prison \nuntil  the  end  of  the  siege,  and  then  carried \nhim  with  them  to  Halifax.  His  father  was  a \nTory,  and,  so  far  as  the  diaries  of  the  prison \nmates  show,  made  no  attempt  to  visit  his  son \nin  prison.  James  Lovell  was  exchanged  in \nthe  summer  of  1776. \n\nThrough  Edes'  prison  diary,  and  the  brief \njottings  which  pass  for  the  journal  of  Timothy \nNewell,  selectman,  we  get  a  glimpse  of  a  turn- \ncoat. The  incident  in  which  he  figures  is \nthe  only  one  that  caused  Newell,  who  gave \na  scant  hundred  and  twenty-five  words  to \nBunker  Hill  battle,  to  write  at  any  length. \nOne  John  Morrison,  formerly  minister  at \nPeterborough,  New  Hampshire,  had  been \n\"obliged,\"  says  Edes,  \"to  quit  his  people \n\n2A \n\n\n354  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\non  account  of  his  scandalous  behaviour.\" \nHe  joined  the  provincial  army,  and  is  said \nto  have  fought  at  Bunker  Hill ;  but  a  week \nlater  he  joined  the  British  with  the  usual  mis- \nstatements  of  the  American  intentions.  In  the \nmiddle  of  September,  Morrison  moved  for \npermission  to  use  for  his  services  the  Brattle \nStreet  Church,  \"Dr.  Cooper's  Meetinghouse,\" \nof  which  Timothy  Newell  was  a  member  of \nthe  parish  committee.  Newell,  \"with  an \nemotion  of  resentment,\"  roundly  refused  to \ndeliver  the  key  to  Morrison  and  his  friends, \nand  made  his  way  into  the  presence  of  the \ngovernor,  where  he  stated  that  Morrison  was \na  man  of  infamous  character.  But  the  turn- \ncoat had  respectable  backers.  Gage  required \nthe  key  of  Newell,  and  got  it ;  and  Morrison \nheld  at  least  one  service  in  the  church.  It \nwas  to  this  service,  on  the  iyth  of  September, \nthat  Edes  was  conducted,  doubtless  as  a \nprivilege,  and  heard  a  political  sermon  on \nthe  ingratitude  of  the  provincials.  Edes  re- \nmarked that  the  Tories  present  affected  to \ngrin,  but  it  was  horribly,  with  a  ghastly \n\n\nJune  to  December  in  Boston         355 \n\nsmile.  The  newspapers,  however,  called  it  an \nexcellent  discourse  to  a  genteel  audience,  and \nannounced  regular  services.  Morrison,  still \ncontemptuously  styled  the  deserter,  figures \nagain  in  Newell's  diary  in  November,  when \nhe  informed  against  an  old  Dutch  woman \nfor  trying  to  carry  out  of  town  more  money \nthan  her  permit  allowed.  His  profit  on  this \nwas  ten  dollars.  When  winter  approached,  the \nBrattle  Street  Church  was  taken  for  use  as  a \nbarracks,  and  Morrison  got  himself  a  place \nin  the  commissary  department,  which  per- \nhaps was  more  to  his  liking  than  sermonizing.1 \nThe  interview  with  Newell  gives  us  a \nglimpse  of  Gage  in  almost  the  last  of  his \ntroubles  with  the  stiff-necked  Bostonians. \nLess  than  a  fortnight  later2  he  received  word \nfrom  London  that  the  king  desired  his  pres- \nence, in  order  to  consult  upon  future  opera- \ntions. Probably  the  unlucky  commander  saw \n\n1  Leach's  and  Edes'  \"Journals,\"  N.  E.  Hist  and  Gen. \nRegister,  1865;  Newell's  \"Journal,\"  Mass.  Hist.  Soc. \nCollections,  i,  series  iv;  Frothingham's  \"Siege,\"  239; \nSabine's  \"Loyalists.\"  2  September  26. \n\n\n356  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nin  the  message  the  end  of  his  commission, \nbut  he  went  as  one  expecting  to  return.  As \nwas  customary,  he  was  presented  with  adula- \ntory addresses,  and  on  October  10  departed \nin  state.  His  welcome  in  England  was  not \nso  stately.  The  king  did  give  him  an  inter- \nview, and  listened  attentively  to  his  explana- \ntions, but  it  was  popularly  suggested  that \nthe  unsuccessful  general  be  created  Lord  Lex- \nington, Baron  of  Bunker  Hill.  Gage's  com- \nmand was  not  restored  to  him,  and  he  never \nagain  went  on  active  service. \n\nOne  legacy  indeed  he  left,  perhaps  the \nworst  act  of  his  administration  and  the \nmost  far-reaching,  although  the  personal \nblame  does  not  lie  with  Gage  himself.  On  the \n4th  of  October  he  sent  out  a  small  fleet  of \nvessels  which  accomplished  more  harm  than \ngood.  It  skirmished  with  privateers,  and \neventually,  reaching  Falmouth,  now  Portland \nin  Maine,  but  then  in  Massachusetts  ter- \nritory, attempted  to  levy  upon  the  town. \nCaptain  Mowatt,  the  commander,  picked  a \nquarrel  with  the  inhabitants,  and  finding \n\n\nJune  to  December  in  Boston        357 \n\nthem  unyielding,  burnt  their  village.  The \nblame  lies  between  Mowatt  and  Admiral \nGraves,  both  of  whom  had  grudges  against \nthe  town  on  account  of  a  previous  incident. \nThe  ministry  repudiated  the  act,  but  the  fact \nis  undeniable  that  it  was  within  the  spirit \nof  the  instructions  given  to  a  later  expedition, \nto  \"destroy  any  towns\"  that  would  not \nsubmit.1  The  effect  on  the  Americans,  how- \never, was  very  far  from  teaching  submission. \nThe  news  of  the  burning  of  Falmouth  did \nas  much  as  any  other  event  to  impress  the \nprovincials  with  the  impossibility  of  an  agree- \nment with  the  king. \n\nIn  Gage's  place  now  stood  Howe,  on  whom \nthe  British  hopes  centred.  According  to \nthe  Tory  Samuel  Paine,  Howe  united  the \nspirit  of  a  Wolfe  with  the  genius  of  a  Marl- \nborough.  Without  prizing  him  quite  so  highly, \nboth  the  army  and  the  administration  looked \nto  Howe  for  action  and  results.  It  seemed  to \nthem  that  now  at  last  something  must  happen. \n\n1  Instructions  for  Clinton's  expedition  to  the  south- \nward. Frothingham's  \"Siege,\"  292. \n\n\n358  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nBut  Howe,  though  with  a  willing  army \nat  his  back,  disciplined  and  well  equipped, \ndid  nothing.  He  strengthened  the  Charles- \ntown  lines  and  the  fort  on  Bunker  Hill,  he \nimproved  the  defences  at  Boston  Neck,  and \nhe  began  various  batteries  on  Beacon  Hill  and \nthe  shores  of  the  Common.  He  demolished \na  number  of  buildings  in  the  north  end  of  the \ntown,  in  order  to  make  communication  be- \ntween his  posts  more  direct.  But  except \nfor  the  little  expedition  across  the  Back \nBay  to  Lechmere's  Point,  which  netted  a \nfew  cows,  Howe  attempted  no  offensive  op- \nerations. As  already  shown,  the  regulars \nreturned  from  Lechmere's  Point  as  soon \nas  the  provincials  assembled  in  numbers,  and \nno  attempt  was  made  to  hold  the  little  hill. \nOther  skirmishes  there  were  from  time  to  time, \nbut  these  were  insignificant,  and  they  were \nall. \n\nThe  fact  is  that  Howe's  opinion  coincided \nexactly  with  those  of  Gage  and  Burgoyne. \nThe  country  was  too  strong  to  be  forced, \nespecially  since  the  Americans  had  spent  a \n\n\nJune  to  December  in  Boston         359 \n\nsummer  on  their  entrenchments.  There  was \nno  profit  in  taking  a  rebel  fort  if  the  army  and \nits  situation  were  to  be  weakened  thereby. \nHowe  looked  with  longing  eyes  toward  New \nYork,  took  up  Burgoyne's  idea  of  a  post  in \nRhode  Island,  and  believed  that  if  he  had \ntwenty  thousand  men  holding  all  three  posi- \ntions the  rebels  would  be  beaten.  But  such \nan  army  was  not  forthcoming,  and  the  ques- \ntion arose  whether  he  had  best  stay  in  Bos- \nton or  go  to  New  York.  In  reply  to  ques- \ntions from  the  ministry,  Howe  pointed  out \nthat  he  had  not  a  large  enough  fleet  to  con- \nvey himself,  his  stores,  and  the  Tories,  from \nthe  place.  It  was  therefore  understood  that \nmore  ships  and  men  should  be  supplied  him \nin  the  spring,  and  that  meanwhile  he  should \ngo  into  winter  quarters. \n\nThis  was  done.  Buildings  in  the  town \nwere  arranged  to  accommodate  the  troops, \ntwo  of  the  churches  being  fitted  up  for  this \npurpose.  The  tents  were  struck,  and  the \narmy  made  itself  snug.  Howe  busied  him- \nself with  routine  matters  of  the  camp,  and \n\n\n360  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nrefused  to  budge.  Though  Washington  first \nfortified  Cobble  Hill  in  Somerville,  the  nearest \nhe  had  yet  come  to  the  British  posts,  and \nthough  after  that  he  came  a  step  nearer, \nseizing  Lechmere's  Point,  Howe  simply  fired \nfrom  cannon,  but  made  no  attempt  to  storm \nthe  works.  The  cannonading  merely  inured \nthe  Americans  to  danger,  and  seeing  that  it \ndid  them  good  rather  than  harm,  Howe \npresently  stopped  it.  Washington,  perhaps \nnot  aware  of  the  strength  of  his  own  position, \ndeclared  himself  \"unable,  upon  any  principle \nwhatever,\"  to  account  for  Howe's  inaction. \nHe  suspected  it  might  be  intended  to  lull \nhim  into  a  false  sense  of  security,  but  resolved \nto  be  more  vigilant  than  ever. \n\n\nCHAPTER  XIII \n\n\nWASHINGTON'S  DIFFICULTIES \n\n\nTHE  situation  at  Boston  in  the  fall  of \n1775  presents  an  interesting  compari- \nson :  two  generals  of  opposing  armies, \neach  ready  to  welcome  an  attack,  but  each  un- \nable to  deliver  one.  The  difference  between  the \ntwo,  and  the  fact  which  determined  the  outcome, \nwas  in  the  natures  of  the  two  men.  Howe, \nfrom  a  certain  sluggishness  of  disposition,  was \ncontent  to  sit  tight,  and  wait  until  the  govern- \nment at  home  should  send  him  his  relief. \nThough  at  each  move  his  enemy  came  nearer, \nHowe  still  appeared  to  believe  that  Dorchester \nwas  safe  from  seizure,  and  was  content  so \nto  believe.  But  Washington  was  not  satisfied \nto  be  still.  His  nature  urged  him  to  action, \nand  though  he  knew  himself  too  weak  for  an \nassault,  he  constantly  schemed  and  worked  to \nput  his  army  into  condition  to  strike. \n\n361 \n\n\n362  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nIn  some  ways  his  organization  was  already \ncomplete.  He  had  under  him  many  of  the \nmen  who  were  to  serve  him  through  the  war. \nTo  be  sure,  he  had  Charles  Lee,  \"the  worst \npresent  that  could  be  made  to  any  army ; \" \nbut  Lee's  part  in  the  siege  was  slight,  for \nWashington  frequently  employed  him  for  dis- \ntant undertakings.  Gates  was  still  present \nalso,  but  in  a  subordinate  capacity.  And  an- \nother of  those  who,  before  the  war  was  over, \ndid  their  best  to  wreck  the  American  cause, \nwas  present  for  a  while  in  the  person  of  Bene- \ndict Arnold,  already  distinguished  by  his \nshare  in  the  taking  of  Ticonderoga.  Early  in \nSeptember,  however,  Arnold  was  sent  on  his \nfruitless  mission  against  Quebec. \n\nBut  besides  these  men,  not  one  of  whom  had \nas  yet  proved  his  weakness,  Washington  had \nalready  at  his  back  some  of  the  best  soldiers \nwhom  the  war  produced.  Among  the  higher \nofficers  were  Putnam,  Thomas,  Sullivan, \nHeath,  and  more  particularly  Greene.  Of \nlower  grade  were  Stark,  Morgan,  Prescott, \nand,  not  yet  well  known,  Knox,  the  Boston \n\n\nWashington's  Difficulties  363 \n\nbookseller  whom  we  have  seen  endeavoring \nto  prevent  the  Massacre,  who  had  studied \ntactics  in  his  own  volumes  and  at  the  manoeu- \nvres of  the  regulars,  and  who  had  escaped \nfrom  Boston  just  before  the  iyth  of  June. \nThere  were  yet  others  who  were  destined  to \ndistinguish  themselves,  and  Washington  knew \nthat  he  had,  among  his  officers,  as  courageous \nand  intelligent  soldiers  as  were  to  be  found \nanywhere. \n\nYet  they  were  but  a  nucleus,  while  his \nsupplies  remained  few  and  poor,  and  the \norganization  of  the  army  unsatisfactory.  As \nthe  winter  approached,  Washington  looked \nforward  uneasily  to  the  expiration  of  the \nterms  of  enlistment  of  his  troops.  Some \nwould  lapse  in  December,  the  rest  at  the \nfirst  of  January.  His  regiments  were  not \nuniform  in  size,  and  they  retained  too  much \nof  the  provincial  jealousy  which  had  already \ntroubled  him,  and  which  had  perhaps  lost \nBunker  Hill.  It  was  very  evident  to  him \nthat  an  entirely  new  army  should  be  organ- \nized. \n\n\n364  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nIt  was  therefore  welcome  to  him  that \nCongress  should  send  a  committee  to  help \nhim  in  the  matter  of  reorganization.  On \nOctober  18  the  committee,  with  Franklin  at \nits  head,  met  with  Washington,  his  staff,  and \ndelegates  from  the  four  colonies  which  until \nnow  had,  practically  alone,  been  prosecuting \nthe  siege.  The  subject  had  been  already \ndiscussed  by  the  council  of  war,  and  the  little \nconvention  was  made  acquainted  with  the \ndiscrepancies  in  the  organizations  of  the \ndifferent  regiments,  and  the  needs  of  the \narmy.  It  was  decided  to  reduce  the  num- \nber of  regiments  from  thirty-eight  to  twenty- \nsix.  This  meant  not  so  much  to  reduce  the \nnumber  of  men  as  the  number  of  officers. \nThe  term  of  reenlistment  was  to  be  one  year, \nand  the  delegates  assured  Washington  that  he \ncould  count  on  twenty  thousand  men  from \nMassachusetts,  eight  thousand  from  Con- \nnecticut, three  thousand  from  New  Hamp- \nshire, and  fifteen  hundred  from  Rhode  Island. \nThe  regiments  were  to  be  uniform  in  size, \nconsisting  of  eight  companies  each ;  besides \n\n\nWashington's  Difficulties  365 \n\nregular  infantry,  there  were  to  be  riflemen \nand  artillery.  A  system  for  clothing  and  sup- \nplying the  army  was  agreed  upon.  When  the \nlittle  convention  had  broken  up,  the  Com- \nmittee from  Congress  remained  for  a  few  days, \nrevising  the  articles  of  war,  considering  the \ndisposition  of  naval  prizes,  and  discussing  a \nnumber  of  minor  topics.  Upon  the  com- \nmitteq's  return  to  Philadelphia,  its  actions \nwere  ratified  by  Congress.1 \n\nWashington  then  set  himself  with  new \nassurance  to  his  task.  Thanks  to  the  con- \nvention, he  felt  that  he  had  a  united  country \nat  his  back,  and  that  much  had  been  done \nto  dissipate  colonial  jealousies.  These  are \nsurprising  to  us  of  to-day :  one  is  astonished \nto  find  Greene  seriously  assuring  \"the  gentle- \nmen from  the  southward\"  that  the  four  New \nEngland  colonies,  as  soon  as  they  had  con- \nquered King  George,  would  not  turn  their \narms  against  the  South.  Yet  had  there  been \nany  such  intention,  the  New  Englanders \n\n1  See  the  \"Writings  of  Washington,\"  iii,  123-124, \nnote. \n\n\n366  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nalready  had  their  hands  full  with  the  British, \nand  Washington  was  by  no  means  out  of  the \nwoods.  On  paper  he  had  an  excellent  organi- \nzation ;  but  in  fact,  everything  was  still  to  be \ndone. \n\nWith  the  approach  of  winter,  the  first  task \nwas  to  house  his  army.  This  was  gradually \naccomplished,  and  the  regiments  went  into \ntheir  winter  quarters.  For  a  time,  however, \nthere  was  a  scarcity  of  food  and  fuel.  This \nwas  due,  not  to  a  lack  of  either,  but  to  the \nweakness  in  the  system  of  providing  for \nthem.  For  some  weeks  there  was  distress \nand  discontent ;  at  times  we  are  told  that \nthe  troops  ate  their  provision  raw,  and  most \nof  the  orchards  and  shade  trees  within  the \ncamp  were  cut  down  for  fuel.  Washington \nvigorously  represented  the  state  of  the  case \nto  the  Massachusetts  congress ;  he  gave  per- \nmission to  cut  wood  in  private  wood-lots, \npromising  payment ;  and  finally  the  need  was \nmet.  The  towns  sent  generous  supplies  of \nwood  to  the  camp,  rations  were  provided  in \nplenty,  and  the  only  period  of  hardship  which \n\n\nWashington's  Difficulties  367 \n\nthe  Americans  endured  was  safely  passed \nbefore  the  winter  set  in. \n\nThere  was  not  much  for  the  army  to  do \nwhen  once  the  barracks  were  built  and  new \nquarters  taken.  The  work  of  fortifying  Lech- \nmere's  Point  went  on  slowly,  on  account  of  the \nfrost;  it  was  not  until  the  end  of  February \nthat  the  redoubt  was  completed,  and  its  guns \nmounted.  But  the  troops  were  drilled,  and \nwere  kept  busy  in  perfecting  the  fortifications. \nWashington  seized  every  chance  to  improve \nhis  defences,  as  we  see  him  when  planning \nnew  redoubts  to  guard  against  the  possi- \nbility of  a  sortie  from  the  Neck.1 \n\nThe  news  of  the  burning  of  Falmouth \nreached  Washington  on  the  24th  of  October, \nand  greatly  roused  his  indignation.  As  it \nwas  expected  that  the  British  fleet  might \nnext  descend  upon  Portsmouth,  he  sent  Gen- \neral Sullivan  thither,  with  orders  to  put  the \nharbor  in  a  state  of  defence,  and  at  all  events \nto  save  the  small  store  of  powder  which  had \nbeen  brought  into  that  place.  This  was  a \n\n1  See  letter  to  Ward,  \"Writings,\"  iii,  161. \n\n\n368  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\ncapture  by  the  little  navy.  Mowatt's  fleet, \nhowever,  made  no  attempt  upon  Portsmouth, \nand  presently  returned  to  Boston.  Feeling \ntemporarily  secure  against  further  depredations \nupon  the  coast,  Washington  put  his  whole \nenergy  into  the  reorganization  of  his  army. \nThe  period  from  the  end  of  November  until \nthe  early  part  of  February  was  one  of  the \nhardest  in  Washington's  career.  His  diffi- \nculties were  those  which  we  have  seen  already, \nwant  of  powder  and  want  of  arms,  but  to \nthem  was  added  the  great  fear  of  a  lack  of \nmen.  As  to  powder,  its  supply  still  fluc- \ntuated, small  quantities  coming  in  irregularly, \nand  being  steadily  used  in  equally  niggardly \namounts,  or  slowly  spoiling  in  the  soldiers' \npouches.  Muskets  were  still  scanty,  and \nWashington  saw  no  hope  except  in  buying \nthose  of  his  soldiers  whose  terms  were  about \nto  expire,  or  in  sending  agents  through  the \nneighboring  towns  to  secure  what  they  could \nfind.  There  was  a  corresponding  lack  of \ncannon,  bayonets,  flints,  and  small  appur- \ntenances. \n\n\nWashington's  Difficulties  369 \n\nBut  weaknesses  of  this  kind  were  nothing \nas  compared  with  the  threatened  weakness  in \nmen.  Washington  was  deeply  disappointed \nat  his  failure  to  recruit  his  newly  planned \narmy.  Although  the  delegates  of  the  prov- \ninces had  promised  him  full  regiments,  the \nnew  recruiting  system  seemed  to  fail  almost \nentirely.  The  general  presently  perceived \nseveral  distinct  factors  that  were  working \nagainst  its  success. \n\nIn  the  first  place,  the  new  plan  provided \nfor  fewer  officers  in  the  new  army.  Many  of \nthe  provincial  regiments,  especially  those  of \nMassachusetts,  had  been  over-officered,  and \nnow,  when  the  number  of  regiments  was  less \nby  twelve,  it  was  evident  that  scores  of  officers \nmust  either  accept  lower  rank  or  leave  the \narmy  entirely.  It  was  found  that  most  of \nthose  who  could  not  obtain  equal  rank  were \nunwilling  to  remain,  and  that  they  were  in- \nfluencing their  men  to  leave  the  army  with \nthem. \n\nBesides  this,  provincial  jealousies  worked \nstrongly  in  this  matter  of  officers.  Massa- \n\n\n2B \n\n\n370  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nchusetts  officers  who  had  been  forced  out  of \nservice  might  have  found  places  in  the  Con- \nnecticut regiments,  but  the  soldiers  of  the \nother  colony  would  have  none  of  them.  For \neach  company  and  each  platoon  held  firmly \nto  the  old  idea  that  it  must  be  consulted  con- \ncerning its  officers,  and  no  private  would  con- \nsent to  be  commanded  by  a  man  from  another \ncolony.  This  alone  made  plentiful  trouble. \n\nFinally  the  men  themselves  had  ideas  of \ntheir  own  as  to  whether  they  cared  to  enlist. \nTo  begin  with,  the  shrewd  among  them \nreckoned  that  if  they  only  held  out  long \nenough  they  might  secure  bounties  for  ree'n- \nlisting.  Some  were  finicky  as  to  their  officers, \nand  waited  until  they  should  be  satisfied. \nAnd  most  of  them  perceived  that  as  a  reward \nfor  patriotism  they  might  at  least  receive \nfurloughs,  and  stood  out  for  them. \n\nThe  details  of  the  work  of  enlisting  were \nvery  obscure  and  complicated.  It  was  found \nthat  officers  were  endeavoring  to  recruit  their \nown  companies,  and  in  their  zeal  had  enrolled \nmen  who  were  already  registered  elsewhere. \n\n\nWashington's  Difficulties  371 \n\nOutsiders,  anxious  for  commissions,  were  simi- \nlarly forming  companies,  and  presenting  them \nfor  acceptance.  Washington  steadily  refused \nto  receive  such  unauthorized  organizations. \nAnd  finally  it  was  suspected  that  many  men \nwho  had  given  in  their  names  had  no  inten- \ntion of  serving. \n\nWhat  would  make  their  defection  more \ncertain  was  the  irregularity  of  pay.  Congress \nhad  appropriated  sums  of  money,  but  the \ncurrency  reached  Washington  slowly.  It  was \nvery  singular,  he  complained,  that  the  signers \nof  the  scrip  could  not  keep  pace  with  his \nneeds.  Further,  Congress  had  a  very  im- \nperfect idea  of  the  magnitude  of  his  legitimate \nneeds ;  the  appropriations  were  niggardly. \nAs  the  new  year  approached,  when  it  was \nimportant  that  the  men  should  be  paid,  and \nreceive  assurance  of  further  pay,  Washington \nwrote  to  urge  more  remittances,  that  the  sol- \ndiers might  be  satisfied. \n\nEven  the  crews  of  the  little  navy  gave \nWashington  no  peace.  His  \"plague,  trouble, \nand  vexation\"  with  them  he  was  unable  to \n\n\n372  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nexpress ;  he  believed  that  there  was  not  on \nearth  a  more  disorderly  set.  One  crew  de- \nserted, and  its  vessel  was  docked. \n\nTo  be  sure,  there  were  moments  of  satis- \nfaction in  these  dreary  weeks  of  trial.  Cer- \ntain of  the  rejected  officers  rose  above  their \ndisappointments.  One  of  these  was  Colonel \nWhitcomb,  who  was  not  given  a  regiment  in \nthe  new  establishment.  At  this  his  men \nbecame  so  dissatisfied  that  they  decided  not \nto  enlist  at  all.  Colonel  Whitcomb,  in  order \nto  persuade  them  to  remain,  announced  his \nwillingness  to  enlist  as  a  private.  The  situa- \ntion was  saved  by  Colonel  Jonathan  Brewer, \nwho  offered  his  command  to  Colonel  Whit- \ncomb. Washington,  in  a  general  order, \nthanked  both  of  the  officers.  Brewer  was \nmade  Barrack-Master,  \"until  something \nbetter  worth  his  acceptance  can  be  pro- \nvided.\" l \n\n1  See  the  \"Writings  of  Washington,\"  iii,  161,  note. \nThe  facts  concerning  Washington's  difficulties  with \nenlisting  are  taken  chiefly  from  this  volume,  where \nthey  can  best  be  studied. \n\n\nWashington's  Difficulties  373 \n\nOther  relief  was  provided  by  captures  of \nBritish  vessels.  Of  great  importance  to  both \narmies  was  the  capture  of  the  Nancy,  an \nordnance  brig  with  a  complete  cargo  of \nmilitary  supplies  —  saving  only  powder.  So \nvaluable  did  Washington  consider  the  capture \nthat  he  at  once  sent  four  companies  to  the \nspot  where  the  stores  were  landed,  impressed \nteams  for  transportation,  and  called  out  the \nneighboring  militia  lest  Howe  should  make \nan  effort  to  recover  the  royal  property.  The \nBritish  were  on  their  part  greatly  disgusted  at \nthe  loss  of  the  brig,  not  merely  as  weakening \nthem,  but  also  as  strengthening  the  enemy. \nThe  chief  prize  on  the  ship  was  a  thirteen- \ninch  brass  mortar,  which  on  its  arrival  in \ncamp  was  greeted  with  acclamation,  and \nby  means  of  a  bottle  of  rum  was  solemnly \nchristened  the  Congress. \n\nIt  was  about  this  time  that  Washington \nhad  the  satisfaction  of  being  joined  by  his \nwife.  There  had  been  a  suggestion  that  her \nresidence  on  the  Potomac  was  not  safe,  but \neven  before  the  naval  raids  Washington  had \n\n\n374  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nbegun  to  suggest  her  joining  him.  She  ar- \nrived on  the  nth  of  December,  and  resided \nuntil  the  end  of  the  siege  with  him  at  his \nheadquarters  in  the  old  house  still  stand- \ning on  Brattle  Street,  Cambridge.  The  house \nhas  had  an  interesting  history,  having  been \nbuilt  by  the  Tory  Vassalls,  occupied  by  the \nMarblehead  regiment,  by  Washington,  by  Dr. \nAndrew  Craigie,  surgeon  at  Bunker  Hill,  by \nJared  Sparks,  Edward  Everett,  Noah  Webster, \nand  by  the  poet  Longfellow,  whose  family \nstill  owns  it.  The  quarters  were  for  Wash- \nington central  and  pleasant ;  they  gave  him \nhis  last  taste  of  home  life  for  years. \n\nYet  we  are  not  to  imagine  him  at  any  time \nfree  of  difficulties.  With  December  began \nhis  troubles  with  the  Connecticut  troops, \nwhose  enlistment  had  expired.  In  spite  of \nprevious  promises  to  remain  until  their  places \nwere  filled,  and  against  orders  to  leave  their \nweapons,  many  of  the  Connecticut  men \ntried  to  slip  away,  guns  and  all.  Washing- \nton frequently  speaks  of  them  in  his  letters \nof  the  first  half  of  December.  In  securing \n\n\nWashington's  Difficulties  375 \n\ntheir  return  he  was  well  aided  by  the  officers, \nand  by  the  aged  but  still  energetic  Governor \nTrumbull,  who  heard  of  the  actions  of  his \nmen  with  \"grief,  surprise,  and  indignation.\" \nTrumbull  called  the  assembly  of  Connecticut \ntogether  to  consider  the  situation,  but  action \nwas  forestalled  by  the  people  of  the  different \ntowns.  The  hint  that  the  soldiers  had  best \nreturn  voluntarily,  lest  they  be  sent  back \nwith  a  feathered  adornment  that  nature  had \nnot  provided,  was  sufficient  to  hurry  most  of \nthem  back  to  their  service. \n\nNo  sooner  had  this  matter  been  smoothed \nover,  than  Washington  had  to  meet  the  gen- \neral situation,  when  on  the  first  of  January \nmost  of  the  enlistments  would  expire.  For \nsome  weeks  he  had  been  anxiously  watching \nthe  returns  of  the  enlistments,  and  the  figures \nfrequently  plunged  him  into  depression.  On \nthe  28th  of  November,  finding  that  but \nthirty-five  hundred  men  had  enlisted,  he \nwrote :  \"  Such  a  dearth  of  public  spirit,  such \nstock-jobbing,  and  such  fertility  in  all  the \nlow  arts  to  obtain  advantages  of  one  kind \n\n\n376  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nor  another,  in  this  great  change  of  military \narrangement,  I  never  saw  before,  and  pray \nGod's  mercy  I  may  never  be  witness  to  again.\" \nA  week  later  he  found  himself  under  obliga- \ntions to  give  furlough  to  fifteen  hundred \nmen  a  week,  in  order  to  satisfy  them.  To \nfill  their  places  and  those  of  the  Connecticut \ntroops,  he  called  on  Massachusetts  and  New \nHampshire  for  five  thousand  militia.  By \nthe  middle  of  December  scarcely  six  thousand \nmen  had  enlisted,  and  on  Christmas  Day \nonly  eight  thousand  five  hundred.  On  New \nYear's  Day  his  army,  which  was  to  have  been \nat  least  twenty  thousand  men,  was  not  quite \nhalf  that  number. \n\nUnder  such  circumstances  many  a  weaker \nman  would  have  thrown  up  his  office  or  aban- \ndoned his  post.  Washington  stuck  to  his  task. \nIf  Howe  would  but  remain  inactive,  the  lag- \ngard country  would  in  time  retrieve  itself. \nAs  a  matter  of  fact,  many  of  the  soldiers,  after \na  brief  period  of  liberty,  returned  of  their \nown  accord  to  the  standard.  We  find  at \nleast  one  case  in  the  diary  of  David  How, \n\n\nWashington's  Difficulties  377 \n\nwhich,  in  addition  to  revealing  his  actions, \ngives  a  glimpse  of  the  camp  at  the  end  of  the \nyear,  when  many  of  the  men  were  going \naway,  and  the  others  were  joining  their  new \nregiments. \n\n\"This  Day,\"  writes  How  on  the  3Oth  of \nDecember,  \"we  paraded  and  had  our  guns \ntook  from  us  By  the  Major  to  prise  them. \n\n\"31.  This  Day  we  have  been  In  an  uprore \nabout  packun  our  Things  up  In  order  to  go \nhome  a  Monday  morning  as  Soon  as  we  Can. \n\n\"Jan  i.  We  have  ben  all  Day  a  pecking \nup  our  Things  For  to  go  home. \n\n\"2d  we  all  Left  Cambridg  this  morning  I \nwent  to  mr.  Granger  and  staid  all  night. \n\n\"3d  I  went  to  methuen. \n\n\"  $d  I  went  to  Haver  hill  to  by  some  Leather \nfor  B retches. \n\n\"  6  day  I  come  to  Andover  and  Staid  at  Mr. \nos  goods. \n\n\"7  day  I  come  to  Cambridge  about  Six  a \nClock  at  Night. \n\n\"Jany  the  8  1776  This  Day  I  Began  with \nMr.  Watson. \n\n\n378  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\n\"Jan  I4.1  This  Day  I  wint  to  Cobble \nHill  &  to  Litchmor  point  and  to  prospeck  hill \n&  So  Home  again.  Nothing  new. \n\n\"22.  I  listed  with  Leut  David  Chandler \nin  Coin  Sergant  Regment.\" \n\nAnd  so  David  How,  veteran  of  Bunker \nHill,  and  doubtless  many  other  young  men, \nfound  the  lure  of  the  camp,  and  let  us  say \nthe  chance  to  serve  the  country,  too  much \nto  withstand.  Freedom  to  earn  their  own \nwages,  and  to  stroll  about  the  fortifications \non  Sundays,  were  not  to  be  measured  against \nthe  romance  of  soldiering  and  the  hope  of \nbattle. \n\nThis  same  New  Year's  Day,  1776,  occurred \nan  event  of  importance  in  the  hoisting  of  the \nflag  with  the  thirteen  stripes.  Previously \nthe  colonies  had  used  different  devices,  in  the \nSouth  a  rattlesnake  flag  with  the  motto, \n\"Don't  tread  on  me,\"  and  for  the  Connecticut \ntroops  the  colony  arms  and  the  motto  Qui \ntranstulit  sustinet,  \"which  we  construe  thus: \n'  God,  who  transplanted  us  hither,  will  sup- \n\n1  This  was  a  Sunday. \n\n\nWashington's  Difficulties  379 \n\nport  us.'\"1  Massachusetts  had  used  the  pine- \ntree  flag  and  the  motto  \"Appeal  to  Heaven,\" \nand  the  little  navy  had  a  sign  by  which  its \nships  were  known  to  each  other,  \"the  ensign \nup  to  the  main  topping-lift.\"  Now  for  the \nfirst  time  the  thirteen  stripes  with  the  British \ncrosses  in  the  corner  were  raised,  amid  much \nenthusiasm. \n\nCuriously,  this  coincided  with  the  coming \nof  the  king's  recent  speech  in  Parliament, \nand  a  strange  interpretation  was  put  upon  the \nappearance  of  the  new  flag.  The  British \nhad  caused  to  be  sent  to  the  American  lines \nmany  copies  of  the  speech,  expecting  that \nits  expression  of  the  king's  determination \nto  prosecute  the  war,  even  by  the  use  of  for- \neign troops,  would  bring  the  rebels  to  their \nknees.  The  cheering  in  the  American  camp, \nall  the  louder  on  account  of  the  sentiments \nof  his  gracious  majesty,  and  the  appearance  of \nthe  new  flag,  combined  to  make  the  British \nsuppose  that  the  provincials  were  weakening. \n\"By  this  time,\"  wrote  Washington  grimly  on \n\n1  Frothingham's  \"Siege,\"  104. \n\n\n380  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nthe  4th,  \"I  presume  they  begin  to  think  it \nstrange,  that  we  have  not  made  a  formal \nsurrender  of  our  lines.\" \n\nIt  was  well  that  he  could  jest,  however \nsternly,  for  his  situation  was  newly  compli- \ncated by  the  permission  of  Congress  to  attack \nBoston  whenever  he  might  think  expedient, \n\"notwithstanding  the  town  and  property \nin  it  may  be  destroyed.\"  Such  permission \nwas  equivalent  to  a  broad  hint,  and  there \nwere  not  lacking  suggestions  from  many \nobscure  quarters  that  the  country  would  be \nmore  content  if  its  general  should  relieve  it \nof  the  presence  of  the  British  army.  Of \n\"chimney  corner  heroes\"  Washington  had \na  genuine  contempt,  but  the  resolve  of  Con- \ngress was  another  matter,  especially  when \nit  came  through  the  hands  of  John  Hancock. \nHe  was  the  largest  property-owner  in  the \ntown,  and  prospectively  the  greatest  sufferer \nby  its  destruction,  yet  he  cheerfully  wrote, \n\"May  God  crown  your  attempt  with  success !\" \n\nLong  before  now,  had  Washington  been \nable,  he  would  have  attempted  to  storm  the \n\n\nWashington's  Difficulties  381 \n\ntown.  But  as  often  as  he  called  a  council  of \nwar  to  consider  the  matter,  so  often  did \nhis  generals  advise  against  the  attempt.  The \nAmericans  were  doubtful,  and  Lee,  affecting  to \nmistrust  the  temper  of  the  troops,  would  not \nadvise  the  venture.  As  to  burning  the  town \nby  throwing  carcasses 1  into  it,  Lee  told  the \nothers  that  the  town  could  not  be  set  on \nfire  by  such  means.  Washington  looked  for \na  chance  to  assault  the  town  by  crossing  on \nthe  ice,  but  for  a  long  time  the  Back  Bay  did \nnot  freeze,  and  when  at  last  it  did,  he  had \nneither  men  nor  powder.  Such  then  was \nhis  situation  when  he  answered  the  letter \nof  Hancock. 2  He  begged  Congress  to  consider \nhis  situation  if,  in  spite  of  their  wishes,  he  did \nnot  act.  And  that  they  should  clearly  un- \nderstand, he  wrote  these  words  :  — \n\n\"It  is  not  in  the  pages  of  history,  perhaps, \n\n1  Carcasses  were  hollow  shells  with  several  openings. \nThey  were  filled  with  combustibles,  and  when  thrown \ninto  a  town  were  intended  to  set  fire  to  buildings. \n\n2  Washington's  communications  to  Congress  were  ad- \ndressed to  Hancock,  as  its  President. \n\n\n382  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nto  furnish  a  case  like  ours.  To  maintain  a \npost  within  musket  shot  of  the  enemy,  for \nsix  months  together,  without \nand  at  the  same  time  to  disband  one  army, \nand  recruit  another,  within  that  distance \nof  twenty-odd  British  regiments,  is  more, \nprobably,  than  was  ever  attempted.\" \n\nThe  significant  omission  in  this  passage  is \nthe  word  \"powder.\"  At  another  time,  when \ndoubtful  of  the  safety  of  his  letter,  he  used \nthe  paraphrase,  \"what  we  greatly  need.\" \nHe  knew  that  his  correspondents  would \nsupply  the  omission  and  interpret  the  ref- \nerence. But  once  at  least,  on  the  I4th  of \nJanuary,  when  writing  to  Joseph  Reed,  for- \nmerly his  aide,  to  whom  at  this  period  he \nseems  to  have  written  more  freely  than  to \nany  one  else,  Washington  gave  a  complete \naccount  of  his  situation  when  almost  at  its \nworst,  and  ended  with  an  explanation  of \nhis  state  of  mind.  Conditions  are  so  com- \npletely summarized,  and  his  thoughts  are \nso  frankly  given,  that  the  paragraphs  had \nbest  be  given  entire. \n\n\nWashington's  Difficulties  383 \n\n\"Our  enlistments  are  at  a  stand;  the  fears \nI  ever  entertained  are  realized ;  that  is,  the \ndiscontented  officers  (for  I  do  not  know  how  else \nto  account  for  it)  have  thrown  such  diffi- \nculties or  stumbling-blocks  in  the  way  of \nrecruiting,  that  I  no  longer  entertain  a  hope \nof  completing  the  army  by  voluntary  enlist- \nments, and  I  see  no  move  or  likelihood  to  do \nit  by  other  means.  In  the  last  two  weeks \nwe  have  enlisted  but  about  a  thousand  men ; \nwhereas  I  was  confidently  led  to  believe,  by \nall  the  officers  I  conversed  with,  that  we \nshould  by  this  time  have  had  the  regiments \nnearly  completed.  Our  total  number  upon \npaper  amounts  to  about  ten  thousand  five \nhundred;  but  as  a  large  portion  of  these  are \nreturned  not  joined,  I  never  expect  to  receive \nthem,  as  an  ineffectual  order  has  once  issued \nto  call  them  in.  Another  is  now  gone  forth, \nperemptorily  requiring  all  officers  under  pain \nof  being  cashiered,  and  recruits  of  being \ntreated  as  deserters,  to  join  their  respective \nregiments  by  the  1st  day  of  next  month, \nthat  I  may  know  my  real  strength ;  but  if \n\n\n384  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nmy  fears  are  not  imaginary,  I  shall  have  a \ndreadful  account  of  the  advanced  month's \npay.1  In  consequence  of  the  assurances  given, \nand  my  expectation  of  having  at  least  men \nenough  to  defend  our  lines,  to  which  may \nbe  added  my  unwillingness  to  burthen  the \ncause  with  unnecessary  expense,  no  relief  of \nmilitia  has  been  ordered  in,  to  supply  the \nplaces  of  those,  who  are  released  from  their \nengagements  tomorrow,  and  as  to  whom, \nthough  many  have  promised  to  continue \nout  the  month,  there  is  no  security  for  their \nstay. \n\n\"Thus  I  am  situated  with  respect  to  men. \nWith  regard  to  arms  I  am  yet  worse  off. \nBefore  the  dissolution  of  the  old  army,  I \nissued  an  order  directing  three  judicious  men \nof  each  brigade  to  attend,  review,  and  ap- \npraise the  good  arms  of  every  regiment ; \nand  finding  a  very  great  unwillingness  in \nthe  men  to  part  with  their  arms,  at  the  same \ntime  not  having  it  in  my  power  to  pay  them \nfor  the  months  of  November  and  December, \n\n1  He  had  paid  in  advance  all  who  had  enlisted. \n\n\nWashington's  Difficulties  385 \n\nI  threatened  severely,  that  every  soldier, \nwho  should  carry  away  his  firelock  without \nleave,  should  never  receive  pay  for  those \nmonths ;  yet  so  many  have  been  carried  off, \npartly  by  stealth,  but  chiefly  as  condemned, \nthat  we  have  not  at  this  time  one  hundred \nguns  in  the  stores,  of  all  that  have  been  taken \nin  the  prize  ship  and  from  the  soldiery,  not- \nwithstanding our  regiments  are  not  half  com- \nplete. At  the  same  time  I  am  told,  and  believe \nit,  that  to  restrain  the  enlistment  to  men  with \narms,  you  will  get  but  few  of  the  former, \nand  still  fewer  of  the  latter  which  would  be \ngood  for  anything. \n\n\"How  to  get  furnished  I  know  not.  I  have \napplied  to  this  and  the  neighboring  colonies, \nbut  with  what  success  time  only  can  tell. \nThe  reflection  of  my  situation,  and  that  of \nthis  army,  produces  many  an  unhappy  hour \nwhen  all  around  me  are  wrapped  in  sleep. \nFew  people  know  the  predicament  we  are  in, \non  a  thousand  accounts ;  fewer  still  will  be- \nlieve, if  any  disaster  happens  to  these  lines, \nfrom  what  cause  it  flows.  I  have  often \n\n2C \n\n\n386  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nthought  how  much  happier  I  should  have \nbeen,  if,  instead  of  accepting  the  command \nunder  such  circumstances,  I  had  taken  my \nmusket  on  my  shoulder  and  entered  the \nranks,  or,  if  I  could  have  justified  the  measure \nto  posterity  and  my  own  conscience,  had \nretired  to  the  back  country,  and  lived  in  a \nwigwam.  If  I  shall  be  able  to  rise  superior \nto  these  and  many  other  difficulties,  I  shall \nmost  religiously  believe,  that  the  finger  of \nProvidence  is  in  it,  to  blind  the  eyes  of  our \nenemies ;  for  surely  if  we  get  well  through \nthis  month,  it  must  be  for  want  of  their \nknowing  the  difficulties  we  labor  under. \n\n\"Could  I  have  foreseen  the  difficulties, \nwhich  have  come  upon  us ;  could  I  have \nknown,  that  such  a  backwardness  would  have \nbeen  discovered  among  the  old  soldiers  to \nthe  service,  all  the  generals  on  earth  should \nnot  have  convinced  me  of  the  propriety  of \ndelaying  an  attack  upon  Boston  till  this \ntime.\"1 \n\nOne  more  blow  Washington  was  to  receive, \n\n1  \"Writings  of  Washington,\"  iii,  238-241. \n\n\nWashington's  Difficulties  387 \n\nin  the  news  of  the  failure  of  the  expedition \nagainst  Quebec.  This  came  to  him  on  the \n1 7th  of  January.  But  from  about  that  time, \nthough  very  slowly,  the  prospect  began  to \nbrighten.  His  army  strengthened,  money  was \nloaned  him  by  Massachusetts,  and  though \nearly  in  February  he  reported  that  he  had  in \ncamp  two  thousand  men  without  guns,  even \nmuskets  were  eventually  provided.  More- \nover, cannon  were  now  supplied  him,  through \nthe  exertions  of  Henry  Knox.  Washing- \nton had  detached  him  in  November  to \ngo  to  Ticonderoga  and  Crown  Point,  and \nprovide  means  for  bringing  the  captured \ncannon  to  camp.  The  general  had  even \nhoped  that  more  might  be  had  from  Quebec, \nbut  that  expectation  was  now  gone.  Knox, \nin  the  face  of  many  difficulties,  fulfilled  his \nmission.  On  December  17  he  wrote  from \nLake  George  that  he  had  got  the  cannon  as \nfar  as  that  point,  and  with  forty-two  \"ex- \nceedingly strong  sleds\"  and  eighty  yoke  of \noxen  expected  to  make  the  journey  to  Spring- \nfield, whence  fresh  cattle  would  bring  him  to \n\n\n388  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nCambridge.  The  artillery,  in  this  humble \nmanner,  at  last  arrived,  howitzers,  mortars, \nand  cannon,  fifty-five  pieces  of  iron  or  brass. \nWith  what  had  been  captured  elsewhere \nthe  supply  was  ample,  and  the  guns,  after  a \ndelay  at  Framingham,  were  mounted  at  the \nfortifications,  or  reserved  for  the  attempt  to \ntake  Dorchester.  Powder  also  had  slowly \ncome  in  faster  than  it  was  used  or  could \nspoil,  and  Washington  found  himself  almost \nready  to  act. \n\nWhen  at  last  he  could  draw  a  long  breath, \nwith  the  feeling  that  the  worst  of  the  situa- \ntion was  over,  he  gave,  in  letters  to  Joseph \nReed  and  John  Hancock,  his  opinion  of  his \narmy  as  it  then  was,  and  of  the  means  to \nmake  it  better.  Placed  behind  any  kind  of \nshelter,  his  provincials  would  give  a  good \naccount  of  themselves.  But  they  could  not \nyet  be  depended  on  to  make  an  assault  in  the \nopen  field.  For  this  they  would  have  to  receive \nseverer  training,  and  in  order  to  acquaint \nthem  with  their  proper  duties  a  longer  term \nof  service  was  necessary.  Even  now,  at  the \n\n\nWashington's  Difficulties  389 \n\nbeginning  of  another  year  of  service,  the \nmen  had  the  officers  too  much  in  their  power, \nfor  indulgence  was  necessary  in  order  to \nmake  them  enlist  again.  He  was  therefore \nfirmly  of  the  opinion  that  his  present  army, \nand  all  new  recruits,  should  be  enlisted  \"for \nand  during  the  war.\"  Thus  Washington, \nlooking  beyond  his  still  uncompleted  task, \nlike  Lincoln  many  years  later,  perceived  the \nonly  means  to  final  success. \n\nBut  with  the  means  which  he  had  at  hand \nhe  was  now  impatient  to  act.  It  was  almost \nMarch,  and  at  any  time  Howe  might  receive \nthe  reinforcements  which  would  enable  him \nto  take  the  offensive.  Washington  prepared \nto  fortify  Dorchester  as  soon  as  the  state \nof  the  ground  would  permit  of  digging,  and \nin  order  to  lessen  the  work  he  prepared \nfascines  —  which  were  bundles  of  sticks  — \nand  chandeliers  or  frameworks  to  hold  the \nbundles  in  place  in  order  to  serve  as  the  body \nof  an  embankment.  Remembering  how  at \nBunker  Hill  the  regulars  had  been  led  to \nsuppose  that  the  troops  at  the  rail  fence, \n\n\n39°  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nprotected  by  nothing  except  the  rails  and \nhay,  were  behind  an  embankment,  he  col- \nlected ropes  of  hay  to  use  if  necessary  for \nthe  same  purpose,  but  also  to  bind  the  wheels \nof  his  carts  that  they  might  make  no  noise. \nCarts  he  collected  to  the  number  of  three \nhundred.  In  the  Charles  River  he  prepared \nboats  enough  to  carry  twenty-eight  hundred \nmen.  Two  floating  batteries  were  also  made \nready  there ;  a  third  had  earlier  been  destroyed \nby  the  bursting  of  its  cannon  when  firing  at \nthe  camp  on  the  Common.  Washington  was \nabout  to  strike,  with  the  suddenness  which \ncharacterized  him,  but  also  with  the  thorough \nreadiness. \n\nFor  his  camp,  even  if  temporarily,  was \nnow  full.  Early  in  February  came  in  ten \nregiments  of  militia,  summoned  on  service \nuntil  the  first  of  April.  They  manifested, \nhe  wrote  with  satisfaction,  the  greatest  alert- \nness, and  the  determination  of  men  engaged \nin  the  cause  of  freedom.  And  on  the  first  of \nMarch  he  called  into  camp  the  militia  of  the \nneighboring  towns,  who  were  to  report  at \n\n\nWashington's  Difficulties  391 \n\nRoxbury  fully  equipped  for  three  days'  ser- \nvice. To  these  men  was  read  his  general \norder,  preparing  their  minds  for  action.  They \nwere  forbidden  to  play  at  cards  or  other  games \nof  chance,  and  advised  to  ponder  the  im- \nportance of  the  cause  in  which  they  were \nenlisted.  \"But  it  may  not  be  amiss  for  the \ntroops  to  know,\"  he  added,  \"that  if  any  man  in \naction  shall  presume  to  skulk,  or  hide  himself, \nor  retreat  from  the  enemy  without  the  orders \nof  his  commanding  officer,  he  will  be  instantly \nshot  down.\"  And  with  this  exhortation  and \nwarning  Washington  concluded  his  prepara- \ntions. \n\n\nCHAPTER  XIV \n\nTHE  WINTER  IN   BOSTON \n\nWHEN  the  British  army  went  into \nwinter  quarters  it  was  nearly  at  the \nend  of  its  difficulties  concerning  food. \nSupplies  from  England  had  been  very  meagre, \nand  the  occasional  raids  had  provided  poorly \nfor  the  wants  of  the  town.  But  since  October \nmatters  had  improved,  largely  because  of  the \ncriticism  of  the  English  Whigs  in  Parliament. \nThese  pointed  out  the  inactivity  of  the  troops, \nthe  humiliation  of  the  situation,  the  sickness \nand  want  in  Boston.  In  order  that  nothing \nshould  be  left  undone  to  remedy  the  last, \nthe  perplexed  ministry  spent  money  lavishly \nto  provision  its  garrison.  Five  thousand \noxen,  fourteen  thousand  sheep,  with  a  great \nnumber  of  hogs,  were  purchased,  and  shipped \nalive.  Vegetables,  preserved  by  a  new  pro- \ncess, were  bought  in  quantities ;  wheat  and \n\n392 \n\n\nThe  Winter  in  Boston  393 \n\nflour  were  collected;  wood,  coal,  hay,  and \nother  fodder,  with  beer,  porter,  rum,  Geneva, \nand  the  more  innocent  vinegar,  were  gener- \nously provided.  To  be  sure,  the  commissions \non  all  these  purchases  provided  fortunes \nfor  the  relatives  of  those  in  office,  and  the \nship-owners  found  excuses  for  setting  sail  as \nlate  as  possible,  in  order  to  increase  the  hire \nof  their  craft.  As  a  result,  much  of  the  vast \nexpense  —  some  six  hundred  thousand  pounds \nfor  provisions  alone  —  was  wasted.  Con- \ntrary gales  detained  the  ships ;  the  live  stock \ndied  by  wholesale,  and  was  thrown  over- \nboard ;  the  vegetables  spoiled ;  and  numbers \nof  the  ships  were  lost  outright.  Others,  ar- \nriving without  convoy  at  the  American  coast, \nwere  captured  by  the  watchful  privateers. \nBut  of  such  vast  supplies  enough  reached \nBoston  to  relieve  the  worst  distresses  of  the \ninhabitants.  Though  the  poorer  of  the  Whigs \nhad  either  to  sign  humiliating  declarations \nin  order  to  share  in  the  rations  of  the  troops, \nor  else  to  continue  on  meagre  fare,  there  was \nenough  in  the  general  market  for  the  well-to-do \n\n\n394  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\namong  them  to  supply  themselves.  John \nAndrews,  for  instance,  though  he  lived  at \nthe  rate  of  six  or  seven  hundred  sterling  a \nyear,  after  October  ate  scarcely  three  meals  of \nsalt  meat,  \"for  I  was  determined  to  eat  fresh \nprovissions,  while  it  was  to  be  got,  let  it  cost \nwhat  it  would.\" \n\nThere  was,  however,  for  months  a  great \nshortage  of  fuel.  As  the  winter  set  in  early, \nand  with  severity,  large  quantities  were \nneeded,  and  there  was  little  on  hand.  The \ntroops,  of  their  own  initiative,  had  already, \neven  in  the  summer,  begun  to  make  depre- \ndations on  private  property,  stealing  gates \nand  breaking  up  fences.  This  the  com- \nmanders endeavored  to  stop,  but  took  the \nhint  and  did  the  same  by  official  condem- \nnation. As  so  many  of  the  inhabitants  had \nleft  the  town,  the  abandoned  houses  were \ntorn  down  for  fuel.  When  the  winter  came, \nthe  troops  again  began  on  their  own  account \nto  steal  wood.  Howe  threatened  to  hang  the \nnext  man  caught  in  the  act,  but  still  was \nforced  to  follow  the  example. \n\n\nThe  Winter  in  Boston  395 \n\nIn  choosing  buildings  for  destruction,  it \nwas  very  natural  to  select  Whig  property. \nPerhaps  the  harshest  assault  on  provincial \nsentiment  had  been  made  in  summer,  when \nduring  August  Liberty  Tree  was  felled.  The \nWhigs  felt  very  indignant,  but  took  a  peculiar \npleasure  in  the  reflection  that  during  the \noperation  a  soldier  had  been  accidentally  killed. \nIn  the  various  poems  written  on  the  occasion \nthe  wretch's  soul  was  unanimously  consigned \nto  Hades.  It  was  besides  remarked  that \nthe  genuine  tree  of  liberty,  of  which  this  had \nbeen  but  a  symbol,  had  now  grown  so  great \nas  to  overshadow  the  continent. \n\nBesides  Liberty  Tree,  the  property  of \nleading  Whigs  suffered.  \"My  house  and \nbarn,\"  writes  Newell  the  selectman,  on  the \ni6th  of  November,  \"pulled  down  by  order \nof  General  Robinson.\"  Leach  the  school- \nmaster, whose  imprisonment  had  made  him \na  marked  man,  had  a  hard  fight  to  save  his \nproperty.  On  Christmas  Day  he  found  a \nparty  of  soldiers  destroying  his  wharf,  which \nhad  been  allotted,  as  was  the  custom,  to  one \n\n\n396  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nof  the  regiments,  in  this  case  the  light  dra- \ngoons. In  spite  of  his  efforts  Leach  was  not \nable  to  stop  this  destruction,  as  evidently  in \nthe  present  state  of  the  town  there  was  no \nuse  for  wharves.  But  when  his  schoolhouse \nwas  threatened  he  carried  the  matter  to \nheadquarters.  Howe  said  Leach  had  corre- \nsponded with  the  people  without.  \"  I  denied \nthe  charge.  .  .  .  Finally  I  told  him,  as  an \nEnglishman,  and  a  subject  of  the  King's,  I \nclaimed  protection  of  my  property;  and  if \nmy  House  was  pulled  down,  I  would  follow \nhim  to  England,  or  to  China,  for  satisfaction. \nI  expected  he  would  get  angry,  and  order  me \nunder  Guard,  or  else  to  Gaol  again.  How- \never, in  General  he  behaved  kindly.\"  Howe \nreferred  him  to  his  subordinates,  who  de- \nlayed giving  orders  until  the  soldiers  had \nalready  broken  into  the  schoolhouse.  With \nmuch  resolution  Leach  got  them  from  the \nhouse  and  stood  on  guard  at  the  door  until \nby  referring  to  Howe  the  schoolhouse  was \nsaved.  But  Leach  had  meanwhile  lost  \"valu- \nable Books  and  Instruments,  Drawings,  Col- \n\n\nThe  Winter  in  Boston  397 \n\nours,  Brushes,  several  curious  Optick  Glasses, \nand  sundry  things  of  Value  that  I  brought \nfrom  India  and  China,  that  I  cannot  replace \nfor  money.\"1 \n\nAt  this  time  was  pulled  down  the  Old \nNorth  Church,  the  steeple  of  the  West  Church, \nand  John  Winthrop's  house,  one  of  the  oldest \nlandmarks  in  the  town.  Over  in  Charlestown \nthe  troops  used  for  fuel  the  deserted  houses \nthat  had  not  been  consumed  on  the  iyth  of \nJune.  At  one  time  they  were  demolishing  a \nmill  near  the  American  lines,  but  the  pro- \nvincials drove  them  away  and  presently \nburnt  the  mill.  At  another  time,  by  a  similar \nendeavor  to  lessen  the  British  supply  of  fuel, \nthere  was  brought  about  one  of  the  more \namusing  incidents  of  the  siege. \n\nThe  officers  in  Boston,  having  little  active \nwork  to  do,  were  endeavoring  to  forget  the \nirksomeness  and  the  humiliation  of  their  situa- \ntion. Through  no  fault  of  their  own  the \nposition  was  a  hard  one;  they  had  boasted, \nand  were  not  allowed  to  make  good  their \n\n1  \"N.  E.  Hist,  and  Gen.  Register,\"  1865,  313-314. \n\n\n398  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nvainglory;  they  had  despised  their  adver- \nsaries, and  were  cooped  up  in  a  provincial \ntown.  In  letters  home  they  uneasily  en- \ndeavored to  explain  their  inaction ;  by  return \nmail  they  learned  what  the  wits  of  London \nhad  to  say  of  both  them  and  the  country. \n\"Mrs.  Brittania,\"  remarked  Horace  Walpole, \n\"orders  her  Senate  to  proclaim  America  a \ncontinent  of  cowards,  and  vote  it  should  be \nstarved,  unless  it  would  drink  tea  with  her. \nShe  sends  her  only  army  to  be  besieged  in \none  of  her  towns,  and  half  her  fleet  to  besiege \nthe  terra  firma;  but  orders  her  army  to  do \nnothing,  in  hopes  that  the  American  Senate \nin  Philadelphia  will  be  so  frightened  at  the \nBritish  army  being  besieged  in  Boston  that \nit  will  sue  for  peace.\"  There  was  sting  in \nthese  words,  but  no  remedy  for  the  smart. \n\nIn  order  to  forget  such  flings,  and  to \nbanish  the  consideration  of  crowded  quarters, \nirregular  rations  (for  there  still  were  periods \nof  lean  supply),  slow  pay,  and  inaction,  the \nofficers  tried  to  kill  time.  The  cavalry  regi- \nments searched  for  a  means  of  exercising  their \n\n\nThe  Winter  in  Boston  399 \n\nhorses,  and  Burgoyne  is  credited  with  the \nsolution  of  their  problem.  Newell  recorded  in \nhis  journal  how  his  church,  after  being  profaned \nby  Morrison,  was  examined  by  the  colonel  of  the \nlight  horse,  to  see  if  the  building  was  available \nfor  a  riding-school.  \"But  when  it  was  con- \nsidered that  the  Pillars  must  be  taken  away, \nwhich  would  bring  down  the  roof,  they  altered \ntheir  mind  —  so  that  the  Pillars  saved  us.\" \nA  more  notable  building  had  to  suffer  in- \nstead. The  Old  South  was  taken  for  the \npurpose.  The  furnishings  were  torn  out,  and \nDeacon  Hubbard's  carved  pew  was  carted \naway  to  be  used  as  a  hog-sty.  The  dis- \nmantled church  was  transformed  into  a  riding- \nring,  with  tanbark  on  the  floor,  and  a  leaping- \nbar.  One  of  the  galleries  was  fitted  up  for \na  social  meeting-place ;  the  remainder  were \nused  for  spectators,  for  whose  comfort  was \nput  in  a  stove  into  which  disappeared  for \nkindling  many  of  the  books  and  manuscripts \nstored  in  the  building.  For  the  rest  of  the \nsiege  the  Old  South,  once  so  formidable,  was \na  centre  of  Tory  fashion. \n\n\n400  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nBurgoyne  was  credited,  also,  with  the  de- \nsign of  putting  an  almost  equally  sacred \nedifice  to  a  purpose  still  more  horrifying  to \nthe  good  Calvinists  of  Boston.  Faneuil  Hall, \nthe  cradle  of  liberty,  was  made  a  theatre. \nVarious  plays  were  performed,  and  the  ama- \nteurs were  even  so  ambitious  as  to  attempt \nthe  tragedies  of  Z,ara  and  Tamerlane.  For \nthe  latter  performance  Burgoyne  wrote  a \nprologue  and  epilogue,  which  were  spoken  by \nLord  Rawdon,  who  had  distinguished  himself \nat  Bunker  Hill,  and  \"a  young  lady  ten  years \nold.\"  But  the  great  event  of  the  season  was \nto  be  the  production  of  a  farce  called  the \nBlockade  of  Boston.  It  was  this  performance \nwhich  the  Americans  interrupted,  to  the  peren- \nnial satisfaction  of  all  students  of  local  history. \n\nThe  play  was  to  be  performed  on  a  Jan- \nuary night.  The  Busy  Body  had  just  been \ngiven,  and  the  curtain  rose  on  the  farce,  pre- \nsenting a  view  of  the  American  camp,  and \nthe  figure  of  Washington  absurdly  burlesqued \nin  uniform,  wig,  and  rusty  sword.  At'  this \nmoment  a  sergeant  suddenly  appeared  on \n\n\nThe  Winter  in  Boston  401 \n\nthe  stage,  calling  out,  \"The  Yankees  are \nattacking  our  works  on  Bunker's  Hill !\" \nConceiving  this  spirited  action  a  part  of  the \nplay,  the  audience  began  to  applaud.  But \nthe  sergeant  vigorously  repeated  his  state- \nment, the  sounds  of  distant  cannonading \nwere  heard,  and  an  aide  called  out,  \"Officers, \nto  your  posts  !\"  The  officers  responded  in \nall  haste,  and  the  performance  was  over  for \nthe  evening.  The  reason  for  this  interrup- \ntion was  that  Washington  had  despatched  a \nparty  to  burn  some  of  the  houses  still  stand- \ning in  Charlestown.  The  success  of  the  at- \ntempt had  caused  the  cannonading,  and  the \nconsequent  interruption  of  the  play.  No \nhistorian  of  the  siege  has  failed  to  remark \nthat  the  Whig  ladies  had  the  laugh  of  their \nTory  sisters,  forced  to  return  without  their \nescorts. \n\nA  month  before  this  incident,  on  the  5th \nof  December,  Burgoyne  had  sailed  for  home, \nrecalled  largely  at  his  own  instance,  but  al- \nready under  consideration  for  the  disastrous \nexpedition  from  Canada.  He  did  not  return \n\n20 \n\n\n402  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nto  Boston  until  1777,  when  he  came  as  a \nprisoner.  It  was  when  entering  the  town \nthat  he  learned  that  the  townspeople  had \nlong  memories  for  his  real  or  ascribed  indig- \nnity to  the  Old  South,  for  when  he  remarked \nto  a  friend  upon  the  Province  House,  the \nheadquarters  during  the  siege,  a  voice  from \nthe  crowd  reminded  him  that  the  riding-school \nwas  close  at  hand.  Since  on  the  same  occa- \nsion an  old  lady  loudly  beseeched  her  neigh- \nbors to  \"give  the  general  elbow-room,\"  Bos- \nton may  be  said  to  have  taken  its  mild \nrevenge  on  him. \n\nTheatrical  performances,  balls,  and  parties \nwere  the  amusements  of  the  officers  at  this \nperiod  of  the  siege,  and  persons  of  fashion \ndoubtless  were  pleasantly  situated.  It  was \nnot  so  comfortable  for  the  troops  and  their \ndependents,  as  we  have  already  seen.  The \nlack  of  fuel  and  consequent  depredations  on \nproperty  led  to  plundering  of  a  different  kind, \nand  petty  thievery,  which  Howe  put  down \nwith  a  stern  hand.  Heavy  floggings  were \nmeted  out  to  delinquents,  and  a  wife  of  one \n\n\nThe  Winter  in  Boston  403 \n\nof  the  privates  was  even  sentenced  to  public \nwhipping  for  receiving  stolen  goods.  While \nthere  were  no  true  horrors  at  this  siege,  there \nwas  thus  much  roughness  of  conduct  among \nthe  soldiery,  and  of  this  the  Whigs  were  sure \nto  be  the  victims.  With  the  example  of \nLeach  and  Lovell  before  their  eyes,  the  wiser \namong  the  provincials  spoke  cannily  and \nwalked  softly,  and  attracted  as  little  attention \nas  possible.  But  among  the  poorer  class \nthere  was  much  distress  for  lack  of  food  and \nfuel,  for  even  when  the  troops  had  plenty,  it \nwas  difficult  for  the  patriots  to  buy. \n\nWith  their  strength  somewhat  depleted,  it \nwas  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  the  poorer \nclass  was  visited  by  smallpox.  The  epidemic \nwas  a  mild  one,  and  few  persons  died, -  but \nthe  visitation  created  great  uneasiness.  To \nlessen  his  burden,  during  the  winter  Howe \nsent  out  several  companies  of  the  poorer  folk \nfrom  the  town,  landing  them  at  Point  Shirley, \nwith  the  certainty  that  the  Americans  would \ncare  for  them.  But  his  action  called  down \nmuch  reproach,  and  he  was  accused  of  send- \n\n\n404  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\ning  out  persons  with  the  smallpox,  in  order \nto  infect  the  besieging  army.  It  was  even \ncharged  that  he  had  purposely  inoculated \nsome  of  the  evicted.  This,  of  course,  is  not \nto  be  believed ;  but  it  is  curious  to  find  the \nBritish  at  last  taking  satisfaction  in  the  epi- \ndemic, since  it  would  prevent  Washington \nfrom  attacking. \n\nGradually  a  feeling  of  security  came  over \nthe  besieged  town.  Admiral  Graves  had \nbeen  recalled,  and  Shuldham  took  his  place. \nThe  lighthouse  was  rebuilt  and  guarded. \nHowe  felt  strong  enough  to  detach  a  squad- \nron from  the  fleet  in  order  to  carry  Clinton \nwith  a  body  of  troops  to  the  southward. \nThis  was  the  expedition  that  made  the  un- \nsuccessful attack  upon  Charleston.  Howe \nsent  other  vessels  to  the  northern  provinces \nand  the  West  Indies,  which  brought  in  sup- \nplies. The  store-ships  from  England  con- \ntinued to  come  in,  and  though  Howe  was \nvexed  and  at  times  alarmed  by  the  loss  of  the \nvaluable  stores  that  fell  into  Washington's \nhands,  on  the  whole  he  felt  very  strong.  So \n\n\nThe  Winter  in  Boston  405 \n\nmuch  fuel  arrived  that  in  January  the  de- \nstruction of  houses  and  wharves  was  stopped, \nand  the  men  who  had  been  on  duty  for  the \npurpose  were  commanded  to  make  themselves \npresentable.  Neatness  was  a  hobby  with \nHowe,  and  he  enforced  it  on  his  men,  though \nat  times  the  untidiness  of  his  troops  seems  to \nhave  been  remarkable.1 \n\nThere  are  two  expressions  which  show  the \nconfidence  entertained  at  this  period,  not \nonly  by  the  garrison  at  large,  but  by  the \nBritish  general.  One  Crean  Brush  had  made \nhimself  a  place  in  the  service,  not  in  a  mili- \ntary capacity,  but  as  a  useful  hanger  on.  In \nJanuary,  anticipating  the  result  of  the  spring \ncampaign,  he  offered  to  raise  a  body  of  volun- \nteers, not  less  than  three  hundred,  with  which \nhe  proposed,  after  the  \"subduction  of  the \nmain  body  of  the  rebel  force,\"  to  keep  order \nalong  the  Connecticut,  and  to  maintain  com- \nmunication westward  with  Lake  Champlain. \nThere  is  no  record  that  Howe  took  him  at \n\n1  See  his  general  order  enumerating  faults,  in  Sparks, \n\"Writings  of  Washington,\"  iii,  236,  note. \n\n\n406  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nhis  word,  but  he  well  might  have  done  so,  so \ncompletely  did  he  misjudge  the  situation.  For \nabout  the  same  time  he  wrote  to  Lord  Dart- \nmouth that  he  was  not  apprehending  any \nattempt  by  Washington,  \"by  surprise  or \notherwise.\"1 \n\nBut  the  surprise  came.  On  the  night  of \nthe  second  of  March  the  American  batteries, \nso  long~  silent,  began  to  play.  From  Cobble \nHill,  Lechmere  Point,  and  Lamb's  Dam  in \nRoxbury,  the  three  redoubts  nearest  to  Bos- \nton, the  Americans  bombarded  the  town,  and \nHowe's  gunners  instantly  responded.  The \nAmerican  fire  was  ineffective.  \"Our  people,\" \nwrote  David  How,  \"  splet  the  Congress  the \nThird  Time  that  they  fired  it.\"  Other  heavy \nmortars  were  likewise  burst,  doubtless  owing \nto  the  inexperience  of  the  gunners.  But \nWashington's  purpose,  to  \"divert  the  atten- \ntion\" of  the  British  from  Dorchester,  was  ful- \nfilled. They  had  no  eyes  save  for  the  oppo- \ning  batteries.  For  three  nights  the  diversion \ncontinued ;  on  the  4th  it  was,  wrote  Newell, \n\n1  See  Frothingham's  \"Siege,\"  294-295. \n\n\nThe  Winter  in  Boston \n\n\n407 \n\n\n\"a  most  terrible  bombardment  and  cannon- \nade, on  both  sides,  as  if  heaven  and  earth \nwere  engaged.\"  At \nBraintree,  miles  away, \nAbigail  Adams  listened \nto  the  roar,  and  re- \ncorded the  rattling  of \nthe  windows,  and  the \ncontinual  jar  of  the \nhouse.  \"At  six  in  the \nmorning,\"  she  writes, \n^  there  was  quiet,\"  but \nthe  quiet  was  from  sat- \nisfaction on  the  one \nside,  and  amazement \non  the  other. \n\nOn  the  two  heights \nof  Dorchester,  com- \nmanding the  town  and \nthe  harbor,  stood  two \nAmerican  redoubts, \nlarger  and  stronger \nthan  the  redoubt  at  Breed's  Hill.  On  lesser \nelevations  stood  smaller  works.  Seen  from \n\n\nTOWER  ON  DORCHESTER  HEIGHTS \n\nCOMMEMORATING     THE     EVACUA- \nTION OF  BOSTON \n\n\n408  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nbelow,  Washington's  preparations  seemed \ncomplete. \n\nAll  that  moonlit  night,  while  the  cannon- \nade proceeded,  the  Americans  had  been  busy. \nEverything  had  been  prepared:  the  forts \nwere  staked  out,  the  carts  were  loaded,  the \nmen  were  ready.  As  soon  as  the  cannonade \nbegan,  the  men  and  carts  were  set  in  motion ; \nthe  road  was  strewn  with  hay,  and  bales  were \npiled  to  screen  the  carts  as  they  passed  to  and \nfro.  The  troops  worked  with  a  will,  first \nplacing  fascines  in  chandeliers  to  form  the \noutlines  of  their  works,  and  then  covering \nthem  with  earth.  There  is  no  better  con- \ntemporary account  given  than  in  the  diary \nof  an  unnamed  officer,  published  some  ninety \nyears  later.1  He  wrote  :  — \n\n\"A  little  before  sunset  marched  off  from \nRoxbury;  but  for  more  than  half  a  mile \nbefore  we  came  to  Dorchester  lines,2  we  over- \ntook teams  in  great  plenty,  nor  did  we  find \n\n1  See  the  Historical  Magazine  for  1864,  328-329. \n\n2  These  were  a  line  of  fortifications  facing  Dorches- \nter, made  earlier  in  the  siege. \n\n\nThe  Winter  in  Boston  409 \n\nany  vacancy  till  we  came  to  the  lines;  in \nsome  places  they  were  so  wedged  in  together, \nwe  were  obliged  to  leave  the  road  to  get \nforward;  we  reached  the  lines  at  seven \no'clock,  where  we  waited  half  an  hour  for \norders,  when  a  signal  was  given  and  the \ncannonade  began  at  Lamb's  fort,  and  was \nimmediately  answered  by  a  very  warm  fire \nfrom  the  enemy's  lines ;  a  brisk  fire  between \nN.  Boston  and  our  fortifications  on  Cambridge \nside,  began  soon  after.  It  was  supposed \nthere  was  a  thousand  shot  hove  this  night, \nby  both  armies,  more  than  three  fourths  of \nwhich  were  sent  from  Boston.1  Our  party, \nconsisting  of  about  2400  men,  with  300  teams, \nwere  crossing  the  marsh,  onto  the  Neck, \nwhich  together  with  a  fresh  breeze  from \nthe  S.  W.2  concealed  us  from  the  enemy  till \nthey  could  see  our  works  by  daylight.  The \n\n1  According  to  Knox's  return,  given  in  Frothingham's \n\"Siege,\"  298,  footnote,  the  Americans  threw  only  144 \nshot  and  13  shells.     The  British  seem  to  have  needed \nonly  an  occasional  stimulus. \n\n2  This  breeze  would  bring  the  smoke  of  the  Roxbury \ncannonade  between  the  Heights  and  Boston. \n\n\n4i  o  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\ndivision  to  which  I  was  assigned,  commanded \nby  Col.  Whitcomb,  was  ordered  onto  the \nnortherly  hill,  where  in  one  hour's  time  we \nhad  a  fort  enclosed,  with  fascines  placed  in \nshandelears ;  and  we  immediately  employed \nas  many  men  at  intrenching  as  could  be \nadvantageously  used  for  that  purpose.  A \nlarger  party  was  assigned  to  the  high  hill, \nwhere  they  erected  a  larger  fort,  built  much \nin  the  same  manner  as  ours.  There  were \nfour  other  smaller  forts  and  batteries  erected \nthis  night  on  other  eminences  on  the  Neck.\"  l \nIt  is  not  to  be  wondered  that  the  British, \non  making  the  discovery,  \"seemed  to  be  in \ngreat  confusion.\"  2  The  labor  that  had  been \nexpended  appeared  prodigious.  Washington \nhimself  was  satisfied  with  the  works ;  he \n\n1  It  seems  generally  to  be  considered  that  there  was \nbut  one  fort  at  Dorchester.     The  statement  in  the  text \nis  confirmed  by  the  Revolutionary  Journal  of  Colonel \nBaldwin,  one  of  the  engineers.     \"Six  works  thrown  up \nthis  night  at  different  places  on  the  Hills  &  high  ground \na  very  Great  work  for  one  Night.\" \n\n2  Washington's  letter  to  Hancock,  \"Writings,\"  iii, \n304- \n\n\nThe  Winter  in  Boston  411 \n\nknew  them  to  be  secure  against  the  British \ncannon.  To  Howe  the  achievement  was \namazing,  and  he  is  said  to  have  exclaimed \nthat  his  whole  army  could  not  have  done  as \nmuch  in  a  month.  He  wrote  to  Lord  Dart- \nmouth that  the  rebels  must  have  employed \nat  least  twelve  thousand  men,  whereas  it  was \naccomplished  by  two  details  of  little  more \nthan  two  thousand  men  each.  But  in  those \ndays  the  British  soldier  was  a  poor  hand \nwith  a  shovel,  while  the  Americans  were  all \nfarmers.  Nevertheless  it  is  worth  noting  the \ndifference  in  organization  displayed  in  the  tak- \ning of  Dorchester  and  in  the  earlier  seizure  of \nBreed's  Hill.  Instead  of  a  small  detachment \nsent  to  unsurveyed  ground,  and  unaided  dur- \ning both  the  work  and  the  battle,  Washington \nhad  his  ground  prepared,1  his  detachments \nready,  and  his  cannon  in  reserve  to  send  upon \nthe  Heights.  In  the  morning  the  redoubts, \npresenting  the  appearance  of  finished  fortifica- \ntions, were  manned  with  fresh  men. \n\n1  Colonel  Baldwin  records  that  he  was  on  the  ground \nin  the  afternoon. \n\n\n412  The  Siege  of  Boston* \n\nHowe  called  at  once  a  council  of  war.  To \nit  the  admiral  was  summoned,  and  declared \npositively  that  his  fleet  was  at  the  mercy  of \nthe  rebels.  There  was  but  one  opinion  as  to \nthe  situation :  the  honor  of  the  army  was  at \nstake,  and  in  addition  the  military  reputation \nof  the  general.  It  was  promptly  decided  to \nstorm  the  works. \n\nFor  this  purpose  twenty-four  hundred  men \nwere  sent  to  the  Castle,  which  lay  close  under \nthe  Heights  to  the  east,  with  but  a  narrow \nchannel  between.  The  command  of  these \nmen  was  given  to  Lord  Percy,  who  hoped \nnow  for  the  distinction  which  illness  had  pre- \nvented his  achieving  at  Bunker  Hill.  The \nattack  was  to  be  made  at  night.  Within  the \nlines  at  Boston  Neck  was  to  be  gathered \nanother  force  of  troops,  which  was  to  second \nthe  attack  from  that  direction.  This  last, \nin  the  face  of  the  strong  batteries  at  Rox- \nbury,  was  a  forlorn  hope;  according  to  Lieu- \ntenant Barker  the  troops  were  not  to  load, \nbut  to  advance  with  fixed  bayonets,  and  may \nhave  hoped  to  carry  the  works  by  surprise. \n\n\nThe  Winter  in  Boston  413 \n\nWashington  would  have  welcomed  the  main \nattack.  During  the  day  his  works  were \nstrengthened  and  his  men  reinforced.  Or- \nchards had  been  cut  down  to  serve  as  abattis, \nand  barrels  of  earth  were  ready  to  roll  down \nupon  the  British.  The  men  were  confident; \nthey  were  commanded  by  Thomas,  one  of  the \nbest  of  the  brigadiers,  and  Washington  was \nthere  in  person  with  a  reminder  that  put \ncourage  into  the  breast  of  every  American. \nFor  the  day  which  he  had  chosen  to  decide \nthe  fate  of  Boston  was  the  fifth  of  March, \nthe  anniversary  of  the  Massacre. \n\nBesides  all  this,  Washington  had  another \nweapon  in  reserve.  In  the  Charles  River, \nout  of  sight  of  Boston,  were  his  two  floating \nbatteries  and  his  bateaux  filled  with  soldiers. \nThey  were  under  Putnam,  Sullivan,  and \nGreene ;  and  at  a  given  signal,  if  Washington \ndeemed  the  opportunity  good,  they  were  to \ncross  the  Back  Bay  and  attack  the  town.  — \nTruly  the  preparations  were  for  such  fighting \nas  had  never  been  seen  in  America. \n\nBut  they  came  to  naught,  for  nature  took \n\n\n414  •  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\na  hand  in  the  struggle.  Mercifully,  since \namid  the  projected  battles  the  town  itself \nmight  have  perished  with  its  inhabitants, \nthere  sprang  up  a  gale.  \"A  Hurrycane,\" \nwrote  Newell,  \"or  terrible  sudden  storm.\" \nThe  violence  of  the  wind  was  such  that  no \nboat  could  live  in  the  channel  between  the \nCastle  and  Dorchester,  two  of  Percy's  trans- \nports were  driven  ashore,  and  the  attack  was \npostponed.  The  next  day  the  wind  con- \ntinued, accompanied  by  heavy  rain.  The \nAmericans  continued  to  labor  on  their  works, \nuntil  to  every  eye  they  were  impregnable  by \nany  force  that  Howe  might  send  against \nthem.  Howe  called  another  council,  and \nasked  it  to  concur  in  his  intention  to  evacuate \nthe  town.  There  was  no  other  decision  to \nmake,  and  on  the  6th  of  March  1  the  orders \nwere  given. \n\n\"Blessed  be  God,\"  wrote  Newell,  \"our \nredemption  draws  nigh.\" \n\n1  Frothingham  says  the  yth.  But  see  the  diaries  of \nBarker  (Atlantic,  39,  553)  and  Newell  (Mass.  Hist.  Soc. \nColl.,  i,  Series  4,  272). \n\n\nCHAPTER  XV \n\nTHE    EVACUATION \n\nWASHINGTON,  looking  into  Boston \nfrom  the  Heights  of  Dorchester,  wit- \nnessed the  confusion  of  the  British \nat  the  discovery  of  his  works,  and  watched \nwith  grim  pleasure  the  preparations  made  to \nattack  him.  The  abandonment  of  the  assault \nwas  to  him  a  great  disappointment.  He  had \nnever  seen  men  more  alert  and  willing  than \nhis  soldiers  on  the  Heights.  If  Howe  had \nsent  a  small  force  against  them,  Washing- \nton felt  confident  of  repulsing  it.  Had  the \nattacking  force  been  so  large  as  to  have  appre- \nciably weakened  the  army  in  Boston,  Wash- \nington would  have  delivered  his  counter- \nstroke  by  means  of  the  men  in  boats  under \ncommand  of  Putnam.  \"He  would  have  had \npretty  easy  work  of  it,\"  l  wrote  Washington, \n\n1  Trevelyan,  in  concluding  that  Washington  disap- \nproved of  this  attack  by  Putnam,  is  apparently  misled \n\n415 \n\n\n4i  6  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nstill  after  nearly  a  month  regretting  the \nissue.  He  wrote  his  brother,  \"that  this \nmost  remarkable  interposition  of  Providence \nis  for  some  wise  purpose,  I  have  not  a  doubt. \nBut  ...  as  no  men  seemed  better  disposed \nto  make  the  appeal  than  ours  did  upon  that \noccasion,  I  can  scarcely  forbear  lamenting  the \ndisappointment.\" \n\nWashington  lay  for  a  while  inactive  while \nthe  enemy  prepared  for  their  departure. \nBut  upon  Howe's  shoulders  was  thrown  a \ntremendous  task.  He  had  under  him,  in  the \narmy  and  the  fleet,  about  eleven  thousand \nmen.1  For  them  he  had  been  gathering  mili- \ntary stores  and  provisions ;  he  had  many \n\nby  General  Heath's  curious  habit  of  referring  to  himself \nin  his  Memoirs  as  \"Our  General.\"  It  was  Heath  who \nopposed  the  project.  Against  Howe's  flimsy  defences \non  the  Back  Bay,  if  weakened  of  defenders,  Putnam \nmight  well  have  prevailed,  especially  in  a  night  attack. \nThey  were,  wrote  Edward  Bangs,  \"  ill-constructed,  and \ndesigned  for  little  but  to  frighten  us.\"  James  Warren, \nwho  reported  on  these  works,  found  them  to  be  very \nweak.  See  Frothingham's  \"Siege,\"  329. \n1  Frothingham's  \"Siege,\"  311. \n\n\nThe  Evacuation  417 \n\nhorses,  much  artillery,  and  at  least  a  partial \nequipment  for  field  service,  in  preparation  for \nthe  spring  campaign.  His  army  had  been  at \nBoston  for  many  months,  some  of  the  regi- \nments for  nearly  two  years ;  consequently \nthere  had  been  a  natural  accumulation  of \npersonal  effects,  for  the  convenience  of  the \nofficers,  with  their  wives  and  families.  To \ncarry  away  this  army,  its  stores,  and  its \nbelongings,  there  was  not  at  hand  enough \nshipping. \n\nBut  the  difficulty  was  greater  than  this, \nfor  Howe  had  to  consider  the  Tories  and \ntheir  families.  Long  before  this,  when  Gage \nwas  in  command,  the  ministry  had  written \nthat  in  case  of  evacuation  \"the  officers  and \nfriends  of  government  must  not  be  left  to  the \nrage  and  insult  of  rebels,  who  set  no  bounds \nto  their  barbarity.\"  Howe's  ships,  there- \nfore, were  to  be  at  the  service  of  the  Tories, \nand  with  full  knowledge  of  the  involved  re- \nsults, he  so  informed  them. \n\nWhen  the  realization  of  the  situation  burst \nupon  the  Tories,  they  were,  said  a  contem- \n\n2E \n\n\n4i  8  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nporary  letter,  \"struck  with  paleness  and \nastonishment.\" 1  \"Not  the  last  trump,\" \nwrote  Washington,  \"could  have  struck  them \nwith  greater  consternation.\"  2  Until  the  very \nlast,  no  suspicion  of  such  a  result  seems  to \nhave  disturbed  them;  they  had  borne  them- \nselves confidently,  and  had  expected  to  see \ntheir  enemies  scattered  when  the  new  forces \nshould  arrive.  Among  their  Whig  brethren \nthey  had  been  very  high-handed.  \"The  select- \nmen say,\"  wrote  Eldad  Taylor,  who  must \nhave  been  at  Watertown  when  the  selectmen \narrived  there  with  the  news  of  the  evacua- \ntion, \"that  the  Tories  were  the  most  dreadful \nof  any,  that  all  the  sufferings  of  the  poor  for \nthe  want  of  provisions  and  the  necessaries  of \nlife,  were  not  equal  to  the  dreadful  scorn, \nderision,  and  contempt  from  them.\" \n\nUpon  the  Tories  was  now  put  the  hard \ndecision,  whether  to  go  or  stay.  In  order  to \ndecide,  they  needed  to  know  what  the  Whigs \n\n1  Eldad  Taylor  to  his  wife,  Watertown,  March  18, \n1776. \n\n2  \"Writings,\"  iii,  343. \n\n\nThe  Evacuation  419 \n\nwould  do  to  them;  and  to  know  that,  they \nhad  but  to  consider  what  they  would  do  to \nthe  Whigs  in  similar  case.  In  their  own \nprison  languished  the  Whig  Lovell.  They \nthought  of  the  Whig  prisons  which  might  be \nwaiting  for  them,  and  they  decided  to  go. \n\nIt  is  not  to  be  denied  that  the  decision \nwas,  under  the  circumstances,  wise.  The \nloyalists  were  right  in  supposing  that  the \ntreatment  which  they  would  have  meted  to \nthe  Whigs,  the  Whigs  would  mete  to  them. \nFor  the  country  was  inflamed  against  the \nTories;  Washington  himself  shared  the  sen- \ntiment against  them.  Much  as  we  may \nregret  this  feeling,  we  must  remember  that  it \nwas  natural  to  the  age.  Kind  treatment  to \nan  opponent  in  civil  war  was  not  yet  gen- \nerally practised;  it  was  Lincoln  who  made \nthe  lesson  acceptable  to  mankind. \n\nPractically  all  of  the  Tories,  therefore, \nmade  up  their  minds  to  go.  Some  few,  in- \ndeed, remained  behind,  counting  upon  their \nhumble  station,  or  inoffensiveness.  No  harsh \ntreatment  of  them  is  recorded.  The  one \n\n\n420  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nprominent  Tory  who  remained,  Mather  Byles \nthe  minister,  soon  weathered  the  storm  that \nrose  against  him.  The  remaining  loyalists, \nwho  planned  to  depart,  were  some  eleven \nhundred  in  number.  It  was  necessary  that \nthey  should  be  accommodated  in  the  ships, \nnecessary  also  that  they  should  take  with \nthem  such  of  their  valuables  as  were  easily \nportable.  Howe  gave  orders  that  room  be \nmade  for  them,  and  the  orders  were  unselfishly \nobeyed  by  the  army  and  navy. \n\nBut  the  haste,  the  disorder,  even  the  tu- \nmult, in  the  days  immediately  ^following  the \norder  to  depart,  were  extreme.  Each  regi- \nment had  to  be  assigned  its  transports,  each \nTory  to  find  space  for  himself  and  his  family, \nand  if  possible  his  goods.  There  was  sorting \nof  effects,  bundling  up  of  valuables,  and \nstrenuous  efforts  to  get  all  in  safety  before \nWashington  should  bombard.  Diarists  agree \nin  the  concise  terms  with  which  they  describe \nthe  town.  Says  Newell  for  the  8th:  \"The \ntown  all  hurry  and  commotion,  the  troops \nwith  the  Refugees  and  Tories  all  embarking.\" \n\n\nThe  Evacuation  421 \n\nFor  the  9th  he  adds  :  \"D°.  D°.  D°.\"  And  for \nthe  loth  writes  Lieutenant  Barker  :  \"Nothing \nbut  hurry  and  confusion.\" \n\nIn  the  meantime  the  Americans  at  Dor- \nchester strengthened  their  works,  and  fortified \none  more  eminence,  which  commanded  the \nchannel.  Washington  did  not  wish  to  cannon- \nade the  British,  for  if  not  attacked  he  saw \nno  advantage  in  attacking,  lest  the  town \nshould  be  set  on  fire  and  burned.  He  there- \nfore bided  his  time.  All  his  action  until  now, \nhe  wrote  Hancock,  was  but  preparatory  to \ntaking  post  on  Nook's  Hill,  a  low  promontory \nwhich  ran  so  far  out  upon  Dorchester  flats \nthat  from  its  top  cannon  could  enfilade  the \nBritish  lines  at  the  Neck,  and  could  com- \nmand almost  any  part  of  Boston.  An  attempt \nto  fortify  it  upon  the  night  of  the  9th  was \nbetrayed  by  the  folly  of  the  men,  who  kindled \na  fire  and  were  dispersed  by  British  cannon. \nBut  by  this  Washington  was  not  disturbed. \nHe  was  willing  that  Howe  should  delay  for  a \nwhile,  if  the  delay  were  not  too  long.  He \nhimself  had  reasons  for  waiting,  since  he \n\n\n422  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nreasoned  that  the  British  would,  on  depart- \ning, attempt  to  seize  New  York,  and  he \nwanted  time  to  prepare  and  despatch  a  force \nto  hold  that  place.  So  he  watched  the \nBritish  army,  sent  a  regiment  of  riflemen  to \nstrengthen  New  York,  and  made  ready  five \nother  regiments  to  depart  as  soon  as  the \nBritish  fleet  should  leave  the  harbor. \n\nBut  at  this  time  the  inhabitants  of  Boston \nwere  very  uncertain  of  their  own  fate.  Noth- \ning was  more  natural  than  that  Washington \nshould  attack,  or  that  the  exasperated  British \nshould  on  departing,  even  if  unassailed,  set \nfire  to  the  wooden  town.  The  selectmen,  as \nspokesmen  for  the  inhabitants,  therefore  in- \nquired of  Howe  what  his  intentions  were. \nHowe  wrote  in  reply  that  he  had  no  in- \ntention of  destroying  the  town,  if  he  were \nunmolested.  This  reply  the  selectmen  sent \nin  haste  to  Washington,  begging  for  a  similar \nassurance.  Washington  was  not  willing  to \nbind  himself,  and  returned  answer  that  as \nHowe's  note  was  \"unauthenticated,  and  ad- \ndressed to  nobody,\"  he  could  take  no  notice \n\n\nThe  Evacuation  423 \n\nof    it.     Nevertheless,    since    no    threat    was \nmade,  the  Bostonians  felt  more  at  ease.1 \n\nAll  this  time  the  wind  was  contrary,  and \nthe  troops  unable  to  set  sail.  They  there- \nfore remained  in  their  quarters,  while  com- \npleting their  preparations  for  departure.  As \nthe  days  passed  Howe  began  to  destroy \nwhat  he  could  not  take  with  him,  and  to \nseize  what  would  be  of  advantage  to  the \nrebels.  His  troops  spiked  cannon,  burned \nartillery  and  transport  wagons,  or  else  threw \nthem  into  the  harbor,  and  ruined  bulky \nstores.  What  he  did  deliberately,  his  men \nincreased  through  malice.  The  I3th  seems \nto  have  been  the  worst  day  of  this  period. \n\"The  Inhabitants,\"  wrote  Newell,  \"in  the \nutmost  distress,  thro'  fear  of  the  Town  being \ndestroyed  by  the  Soldiers,  a  party  of  New \nYork  Carpenters  with  axes  going  thro'  the \ntown  breaking  open  houses,  &c.  Soldiers \nand  sailors  plundering  of  houses,  shops,  ware- \nhouses —  Sugar  and  salt  &c.  thrown  into  the \n\n1  For  this  correspondence,  see  Newell's  \"  Diary,\"  or \n\"Washington's  Writings,\"  iii,  531-533. \n\n\n424  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nRiver,  which  was  greatly  covered  with  hogs- \nheads, barrels  of  flour,  house  furniture,  carts, \ntrucks  &c.  &c.  —  One  Person  suffered  jour \nthousand  pounds  sterling,  by  his  shipping  being \ncut  to  pieces  &c.  —  Another  five  thousand \npounds  sterling,  in  salt  wantonly  thrown  into \nthe  river.\"  No  wonder  that  the  sturdy  old \nselectman  thought  these  to  be  \"very  dis- \ntressed times.\" \n\nHowe's  agent  in  the  work  of  plundering \nwas  that  Crean  Brush  who  had  offered  to \npolice  the  western  part  of  Massachusetts  with \nthree  hundred  men.  Him  the  general  di- \nrected to  receive  all  linen  and  woollen  goods \nwhich  were  on  sale,  and  to  take  those  which \nwere  not  delivered,  giving  certificates  for  the \nsame.  There  is  on  file  the  petition  of  one \nJackson,  begging  for  payment  for  goods \ntaken  from  him.  Brush  interpreted  his  com- \nmission very  freely,  and  it  was  suspected \nthat  he  was  plundering  on  his  own  account. \nEvery  soldier  or  sailor  who  could  give  his \nofficer  the  slip  was  doing  the  same,  in  spite  of \nHowe's  honest  efforts  to  stop  the  plundering. \n\n\nThe  Evacuation  425 \n\nThere  was  a  little  genteel  thievery  as  well. \nSome  of  the  Tories  had  unfairly  secured  more \nthan  their  share  of  room  on  shipboard,  and \nfound  this  the  chance  to  take  their  pick  of \nthe  furniture  of  their  Whig  relatives.  \"  Wat,\" \nwrote  John  Andrews  to  his  brother-in-law  in \nPhiladelphia,  \"has  stripped  your  uncle's \nhouse  of  everything  he  could  conveniently \ncarry  off.  ...  He  has  left  all  the  looking \nglasses  and  window  curtains,  with  some \ntables  and  most  of  the  chairs ;  only  two  bed- \nsteads and  one  bed,  without  any  bedding  or \nsheets,  or  even  a  rag  of  linnen  of  any  kind. \nSome  of  the  china  and  the  principal  part  of \nthe  pewter  is  the  sum  of  what  he  has  left, \nsave  the  Library,  which  was  packed  up \ncorded  to  ship,  but  your  uncle  Jerry  and  Mr. \nAustin  went  to  him  and  absolutely  forbid  it, \nupon  his  peril.\" \n\nAnother  library  did  not  fare  so  well.  At \nthis  time  disappeared  that  part  of  the  Prince \ncollection  which  had  not  been  used  for  kind- \nling the  fires  in  the  Old  South.  With  it  van- \nished the  Bradford  manuscript  history  of \n\n\n426  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nthe  Plymouth  plantation,  which  a  later  gen- \neration freely  returned. \n\nWhile  the  Tories  were  so  carefully  looking \nto  the  future,  the  Whigs  were  obliged  to  guard \nwhat  they  could.  Newell  covers  too  many \nincidents  with  etceteras,  but  John  Andrews \nwho,  as  soon  as  the  siege  was  lifted,  was  free \nto  begin  again  his  correspondence,  speaks \nclearly  of  his  difficulties.  Through  the  siege \nhe  had  had  the  care  of  six  houses  with  their \nfurniture,  and  as  many  stores  filled  with  goods  ; \nbut  now  he  underwent  more  fatigue  and \nperplexity  than  for  the  past  eleven  months, \nfor  \"I  was  obliged,\"  he  says,  \"to  take  my \nrounds  all  day,  without  any  cessation,  and \nscarce  ever  fail'd  of  finding'  depredations \nmade  upon  some  one  or  other  of  them,  that \nI  was  finally  necessitated  to  procure  men  at \nthe  extravagant  rate  of  two  dollars  a  day  to \nsleep  in  the  several  houses  and  stores  for  a \nfortnight1  before  the  military  plunderers  went \noff  —  for  so  sure  as  they  were  left  alone  one \nnight,  so  sure  they  were  plundered.\"  Later \n\n1  It  cannot  have  been  more  than  eleven  days. \n\n\nThe  Evacuation  427 \n\nhe  was  obliged  to  pay  at  the  rate  of  a  dollar \nan  hour  for  hands  to  assist  him  in  moving; \nbut  \"such  was  the  demand  for  laborers,  that \nthey  were  taken  from  me,  even  at  that,  by \nthe  tories  who  bid  over  me.\" \n\nSo,  while  the  wind  continued  contrary,  the \nplundering  and  the  destruction  continued. \nBefore  long  the  seashore  dwellers  might  do \ntheir  share  of  rescue,  as  the  articles  which \nwere  thrown  into  the  harbor  — \"  mahogany \nchairs,  tables,  etc.,\"  records  Abigail  Adams \n—  were  cast  up  on  the  beaches.  But  one  by \none  the  transports  filled  and  dropped  down \nthe  harbor,  until  at  last  Washington  grew  im- \npatient, and  on  the  night  of  the  i6th  made  his \nlast  move.  Though  the  British,  aware  of  the \nattempt,  fired  with  their  remaining  guns  all \nnight  at  Nook's  Hill,  the  Americans  doggedly \nentrenched  without  returning  a  shot,  and  in \nthe  morning  showed  a  finished  redoubt.  It \nwas,  as  Trevelyan  well  says,  Washington's \nnotice  to  quit. \n\nHowe  meekly  accepted  it.  \"At  4  o'clock \nin  the  Morn.,\"  writes  Lieutenant  Barker, \n\n\n428  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\n\"the  troops  got  under  arms,  at  5  they  began \nto  move,  and  by  about  8  or  9  were  all  em- \nbarked, the  rear  being  covered  by  the  Grena- \ndiers and  Light  Infantry.\"  The  ships  sailed \ndown  the  channel,  no  shot  was  fired  from \nthe  American  batteries,  and  in  return  the \nFowey,  the  last  of  the  fleet,  which  Howe  had \nthreatened  should  fire  the  town  before  she \ndeparted,  carried  away  with  her  her  \"carcases \nand  combustibles,\"  and  Boston  stood  free \nand  unharmed. \n\nIn  half  an  hour  the  Americans  were  in \npossession.  From  Roxbury  a  company  of \nfive  hundred,  picked  for  the  service  because \nthey  had  had  the  smallpox,  entered  the \nBritish  lines,  and  manned  the  fortifications \nwhich  looked  toward  the  harbor.  In  the \nredoubt  at  Bunker  Hill  sentries  appeared \nto  be  still  doing  their  duty ;  but  two  men  who \nwere  sent  to  reconnoitre  found  them  to  be \ndummies,  and  signalled  their  companions  to \nfollow  them.  General  Putnam  was  given \ncommand  of  the  town,  from  entering  which \nthe  army  in  general,  and  all  civilians,  were \n\n\nThe  Evacuation  429 \n\nprohibited  until  it  was  ascertained  whether \nthere  was  danger  of  smallpox. \n\nWashington's  other  measures  were  decisive. \nHe  directed  Manly,  admiral  of  his  little \nsquadron,  to  follow  the  British  fleet  and  cut \noff  as  many  vessels  as  possible.  One  result \nof  this  order  gave  the  greatest  satisfaction. \n\"The  brave  Captain  Manly,\"  wrote  Andrews, \n\"has  taken  the  Brig  that  contained  that \ncursed  villain,  Crean  Brush,  with  great  part  of \nthe  plunder  he  rob'd  the  stores  of  here,  that \nI  immagine  she  must  be  the  richest  vessell \nin  the  fleet.\"  Other  ships  were  either  simi- \nlarly taken,  or  were  forced  to  put  ashore \nfrom  lack  of  provision  or  of  preparation. \n\nAnother  of  Washington's  moves  was  to \ndespatch  his  five  regiments  to  New  York. \nThey  went  by  way  of  Norwich,  Connecticut, \nand  from  there,  to  save  fatigue  and  time, \nwere  taken  by  water  to  the  city.  They  arrived \nfresh  and  ready  for  the  expected  struggle, \nbut  though  they  watched  long  for  the  British \nfleet,  it  did  not  come. \n\nWashington's  third   action  was   to   defend \n\n\n430  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nBoston  against  a  possible  return  of  the  Brit- \nish. The  \"lines\"  at  Boston  and  Charlestown \nnecks  were  demolished,  and  on  the  day  after \nthe  evacuation  Putnam  and  his  men  were \nat  work  building  on  Fort  Hill  a  redoubt  to \ncommand  the  harbor.  With  this  and  the \nDorchester  batteries  the  Bostonians  might \nhave  been  satisfied,  but  within  a  month  they \nbegan  fortifying  Noddle's  Island  against  any \npossible  attempt  by  sea. \n\nIn  all  these  precautions  the  Americans  \" \nwere  hastened  by  the  fact  that  the  British, \nthough  they  had  left  the  upper  harbor,  were \nstill  in  the  lower,  lying  off  Nantasket.  \"From \nPenn's  Hill,\"  wrote  Abigail  Adams  to  her \nhusband,  \"we  have  a  view  of  the  largest \nfleet  ever  seen  in  America.  You  may  count \nupwards  of  a  hundred  and  seventy  sail.  They \nlook  like  a  forest.\"  Their  stay  greatly  puz- \nzled Washington  :  \"  what  they  are  doing,\" \nhe  wrote,  \"the  Lord  knows.\"  He  was \ntroubled  as  well.  The  ten  regiments  of  militia, \nwhich  had  strengthened  his  army  since  the \nfirst  of  February,  had  promised  to  remain \n\n\nThe  Evacuation  431 \n\nonly  until  the  first  of  April,  and  he  knew \nthat  it  was  \"as  practical  to  stop  a  torrent,  as \nthese  people,  when  their  time  is  up.\"  He \ntherefore  feared  lest  the  British,  by  striking \nwith  all  their  force  upon  his  rear,  might  do \nhim  great  injury. \n\nThis  was  not  the  first  time  that  Washing- \nton, reasoning  according  to  his  own  nature, \nexpected  from  Howe  that  vigorous  action \nwhich  the  British  general  was  unable  to  per- \nform. Howe,  humiliated  as  he  must  have \nfelt  at  receiving,  while  his  vessel  passed  down \nthe  harbor,  a  despatch  from  the  ministry \napplauding  his  decision  not  to  evacuate  the \ntown,  had  no  thought  of  revenge.  He  blew \nup  the  fortifications  at  the  Castle,  and  pre- \npared to  destroy  the  lighthouse,  but  his  pur- \nposes in  remaining  were  to  fit  his  fleet  for \nsea,  and  to  warn  those  British  vessels  which \nwere  bound  for  Boston.  Nor  had  he  the \nslightest  intention  of  seizing  New  York. \nThe  statements  which  had  come  to  Washing- \nton's ears,  that  Howe's  destination  was  Hali- \nfax, in  spite  of  the  American's  incredulity, \n\n\n432  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nwere  correct.  On  the  27th  of  March,  ten \ndays  after  the  evacuation,  the  greater  part \nof  Howe's  fleet  weighed  anchor,  and  sailed \naway  for  Halifax.  His  army  felt  its  shame. \n\"I  do  not  know  the  thing  so  desperate,\" \nwrote  an  officer,  \"I  would  not  undertake, \nin  order  to  change  our  situation.\"1  But  in \nspite  of  the  chagrin  in  the  hearts  of  his  soldiers, \nand  the  despair  in  the  breasts  of  the  Tories, \nfew  of  them  ever  looked  upon  Boston  again. \n\nBefore  this  time  it  had  been  ascertained \nthat  Boston  was  in  no  serious  danger  from \nsmallpox,  and  on  the  2Oth  the  main  body \nof  the  army  marched  into  Boston.  It  was \nan  occasion  of  great  happiness  to  the  inhab- \nitants, and  they  \"manifested  a  lively  joy.\" \nTwo  days  later  the  town  was  thrown  open \nto  all  comers,  and  once  more,  as  before  the \nPort  Bill,  entrance  by  land  or  ferry  was  free. \n\nThe  town  was  speedily  examined  in  all \nparticulars,  and  those  who  had  suffered  by \nthe  siege  were  encouraged  to  bring  in  claims \nfor  damages.  It  was  found  that,  except \n\n1  Frothingham's  \"Siege,\"  310. \n\n\nThe  Evacuation  433 \n\nfor  the  absolute  destruction  of  buildings  for \nfuel,  the  injury  to  houses  was  inconsider- \nable. Where  the  common  soldiers  had  lived, \ninteriors  were  defaced;  yet  externally  the \nhouses  of  the  town  looked  much  as  they  had \nbefore  the  siege.  Where  the  officers  had \nlived,  the  dwellings  had  suffered  little,  and \neven  the  homes  of  the  prominent  Whigs  had \nnot  been  injured.  Abigail  Adams  wrote  to \nher  husband  that  their  house  was  \"very \ndirty,  but  no  other  damage  has  been  done  to \nit.\"  She  looked  upon  it  as  a  new  acquisition \nof  property.  Washington  took  pains  to  write \nHancock,  who  had  been  so  ready  to  sacrifice  his \nbelongings  to  the  cause  of  the  country,  that \nhis  house,  and  even  his  furniture  and  pictures, \nhad  received  no  damage  worth  mentioning. \n\nTo  the  immense  satisfaction  of  all  Whigs, \nmany  military  stores  were  found  in  the  town. \nMost  important  were  more  than  two  hun- \ndred pieces  of  ordnance,  the  larger  part  of \nwhich,  though  spiked,  could  soon  be  put  into \nserviceable  condition.  Balls  and  shells  for \nthe  cannon  and  mortars  were  found;  pro- \n\n2F \n\n\n434 \n\n\nThe  Siege  of  Boston \n\n\nvisions,  horses  and  their  provender,  medi- \ncines in  quantity,  and  many  other  articles \nwere  discovered,  amounting  in  value  to  nearly \n\nforty  thousand \npounds.  The \nbooty  of  Brush \nof  course  swelled \nthis  amount. \n\nThe  Whigs \nnow  might  see \ntheir  friends \nagain,  and  for  a \nshort  time  en- \n\nGOLD  MEDAL  COMMEMORATING  WASHINGTON'S     joyed  military \nVICTORY \n\nsociety  of  a  new \n\nsort.  John  Andrews  reports  \"nothing  but  a \ncontinual  round  of  company.\"  \"Last  week,\" \nhe  recorded,  \"I  had  the  honor  of  General \nWashington  with  his  lady,  General  Gates, \nMr.  Gustos  and  Lady,  with  aid  de  Camps, \n&ca,  to  dine  with  me.\"  It  was  an  occasion \nof  which  he  boasted  to  his  dying  day.  In  the \ntown,  now  flooded  with  provision,  there  were \nmany  eager  to  feast  Washington. \n\n\nThe  Evacuation  435 \n\nBut  he  did  not  tarry  long.  While  Howe \nand  his  fleet  were  in  the  bay,  he  kept  his  men \nat  work  demolishing  the  British  defences \nagainst  the  land,  and  strengthening  the  forts \nwhich  looked  seaward,  and  he  was  continually \non  his  guard  against  the  blow  which  Howe \nmight  deliver.  But  when  the  British  had \nsailed  away  to  the  north-east,  Washington \nhimself,  on  the  4th  of  April,  set  off  for  New \nYork. \n\nHowe  had  nevertheless  left  vessels  at  Nan- \ntasket  Roads,  to  intercept  the  troop-ships \nand  stores  which  were  on  their  way  to  him. \nIn  this  he  was  partly  successful,  for  seven \nship-loads  of  Highlanders  were  by  this  means \nsaved  from  Yankee  prisons.  But  even  while \nthe  evacuation  was  in  progress  British  vessels \nwere  captured  in  the  harbor,  and  now  in \nsight  of  the  squadron  and  its  Highlanders \nwas  taken  the  richest  store-ship  that  had \nyet  fallen  into  American  hands.  There  was \na  brisk  fight,  also,  between  an  American \nschooner,  aground  on  Shirley  Point,  and \nthirteen  boat-loads  of  men  from  the  war- \n\n\n436  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nships.  The  boats  were  beaten  off,  but  the \nBritish  had  accomplished  the  death  of  the \ncaptain  of  the  schooner,  America's  first  naval \nhero,  Mugford  of  Marblehead. \n\nAt  length  a  determined  effort  was  made \nto  drive  away  the  squadron.  The  militia \nwas  called  out,  and  artillery  was  carried  to \nislands  down  the  harbor.  There  was  a  brief \ncannonade  between  the  Americans  and  the \nfleet.  Then  the  British  commander,  find- \ning his  anchorage  no  longer  safe,  blew  up \nthe  lighthouse  and  followed  Howe  to  Halifax. \nThis  was  on  the  second  anniversary  of  the \nenforcement  of  the  Port  Bill.  Two  days \nlater  the  remainder  of  the  Highlanders,  un- \nsuspiciously entering  the  harbor,  fell  into \nthe  hands  of  the  Americans.1 \n\nThe  British  resentment  aroused  by  this \nlast  mischance  was  mild  compared  with  the \ngeneral  indignation  which  burst  on  Howe's \n\n1  See  concerning  these  men  and  their  commander  the \ninteresting  monograph  by  Charles  H.  Walcott:  \"Sir \nArchibald  Campbell  of  Inverneil,  sometime  Prisoner  of \nWar  in  the  Jail  at  Concord,  Massachusetts.\"  Privately \nprinted. \n\n\nThe  Evacuation  437 \n\nhead  at  his  conduct  of  the  defence  of  Boston, \nand  his  hurried  evacuation.  The  ministry \nannounced  the  departure  from  Boston  in \nthe  briefest  fashion,  but  were  forced  to  ex- \nplain and  excuse  it  in  both  the  Commons  and \nthe  Lords.  \"The  General  thought  proper \nto  shift  his  position,\"  explained  the  Earl  of \nSuffolk  to  the  Lords,  \"in  order,  in  the  first \nplace,  to  protect  Halifax.\"1  But  the  defence \nwas  riddled,  Howe's  general  weakness  was \nexposed,  his  neglect  to  fortify  Dorchester \nwas  pointed  out,  and  the  English  Whigs \nacutely  reasoned  that  he  must  have  had  a \nvirtual  agreement  with  Washington  to  pur- \nchase the  safety  of  the  fleet  and  army  at  the \nprice  of  immunity  to  the  town.  Newspapers \nand  pamphleteers  took  up  the  subject,  and \nHowe  was  eventually  forced  to  ask  for  an \ninquiry  into  his  conduct  of  the  siege.  To \nhis  dying  day  he  was  severely  criticised  for \nhis  generalship  in  America,  and  especially  at \nBoston. \n\nOf  the  other  British  military  leaders,  not \n\n1  \"The  Writings  of  Washington,\"  iii,  531. \n\n\n43  8  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\none  was  successful.  Gage  was  never  again \ngiven  a  command.  Burgoyne  returned  to \nBoston  only  as  a  prisoner.  Clinton  for  a \ntime  commanded  in  America,  but  he  was \nrecalled. \n\nAs  for  the  master  whom  these  generals \nserved,  the  king  who  was  the  cause  of  the \nwar,  his  failure  was  complete.  George  III  lost \nnot  only  his  revolted  colonies,  but  also  the \ndearer  prize  for  which  he  fought,  personal \ngovernment.  When  at  last  peace  was  signed, \nthe  Americans  had  gained  independence,  and \nthe  English  people  had  finally  established  the \nsupremacy  of  Parliament.  The  king  might \nreign,  but  he  could  no  longer  govern. \n\nThe  fate  of  the  Tories  cannot  detain  us \nlong,  painful  as  it  was.  Some  few  returned \nto  America  after  the  war,  and  made  again \nplaces  for  themselves.  Among  these  was \nJudge  Curwen.  Some  went  to  England,  where \nthey  were  out  of  their  element.  Dependent \nfor  the  most  part  on  the  bounty  of  the  crown, \nthey  lived  in  hope  of  a  change  of  fortune. \nThey  longed  for  their  homes,  and  sickened \n\n\nThe  Evacuation  439 \n\nfor  a  sight  of  the  New  England  country,  to \nthem  the  most  beautiful  on  earth.  Many  of \nthem  were  too  old  to  begin  life  anew :  by  the \nend  of  the  war  it  was  recorded  that,  of  the \nMassachusetts  Tory  leaders,  forty-five  died \nin  England.  One  of  these  was  Hutchinson, \nupon  whose  life  the  best  comment  is  the  con- \ncluding sentence  of  Sabine's  brief  biography : \n\"I  forget,  in  his  melancholy  end,  all  else.\" \n\nBut  numbers  of  the  Tories  remained  in \nCanada.  Doubtless  many  were  discouraged \nfrom  going  to  England  by  the  reports  of \nthe  condition  of  those  already  there.  \"As \nto  your  coming  here,\"  wrote  Governor  Went- \nworth  from  London  to  a  friend  in  New  Bruns- \nwick, \"or  any  other  Loyalist  that  can  get \nclams  and  potatoes  in  America,  they  would \nmost  certainly  regret  making  bad  worse.\"1 \nOn  such  advice  as  this  many,  indeed  most, \nof  the  refugees  remained  in  Canada,  and  after \nthe  war,  in  which  many  of  them  fought, \nwere  of  great  service  in  building  up  that \ncountry.  Nova  Scotia  and  New  Brunswick \n\n1  Sabine's  \"Loyalists,\"  217. \n\n\n440  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\nreceived  the  larger  number  of  them;  they \nbecame  leaders  of  the  bar,  judges,  physicians, \nprominent  office-holders.  It  is  not  to  be \ndenied  that  among  them  were  suffering  and \nmisery ;  they  had  lost  much  and  had  to  begin \nagain  from  the  bottom,  and  many  succumbed \nto  the  difficulties  of  the  new  life.  After  the \nwar  attempt  was  made  to  gain  from  the \nUnited  States  compensation  for  their  losses ; \nbut  the  new  country  was  unable  even  to \nrecompense  those  who  had  suffered  in  its  cause. \nThe  loyalists  therefore  looked  to  Britain  for \nhelp,  and  in  some  measure  found  it,  in  pensions, \ngrants  of  money,  and  holdings  of  land. \n:  There  is  much  to  regret  in  this  emigration, \nwhich  took  from  New  England  such  numbers \nof  men  and  women  of  good  blood  and  gentle \nbreeding.  For  the  Tories  were  largely  of \nthe  better  class,  many  of  them  had  been  edu- \ncated at  Harvard,  and  they  represented  an \nelement  which  no  community  can  afford  to \nlose.  Some  of  the  difficulties  of  the  new \ncommonwealths  were  due  to  the  loss  of  the \nconservative  balance-wheel ;  some  further \n\n\nThe  Evacuation  441 \n\ntroubles  beset  them  from  the  bitterness  of \nfeeling  in  the  new  colonists  across  the  border. \nThis  has  now  died  away,  but  boundary  and \nfisheries  disputes  long  brought  out  the  hos- \ntility latent  in  the  descendants  of  the  Tories. \n\nSo  much  for  the  losers  in  the  fight. \nOf  the  winners,  no  American  needs  to  be \nmore  than  reminded  of  their  fame  and  their \nsuccesses.  At  the  siege  Washington  made  his \nfirst  claim  to  fame.  He  proved  his  tenacity, \nhis  mastery  of  men,  and  the  greatness  of  his \nresolution  and  daring.  Some  of  his  gen- \nerals followed  him  in  his  success,  some  were \nfailures.  Lee  attempted  treachery,  but  was \nfinally  discarded  by  both  sides.  Gates  en- \ndeavored to  displace  Washington,  but  ruined \nhimself  in  the  attempt.  But  most  of  Wash- \nington's other  generals  were  able  men.  Greene \nproved  himself  to  be  a  military  genius  second \nonly  to  Washington.  Knox,  the  sole  Bos- \ntonian  on  Washington's  staff,  commanded \nthe  artillery  throughout  the  war. \n\nOf  the  chief  Boston  politicians,  all  ended \ntheir  days  honorably.  Soon  after  the  evacua- \n\n\n442  The  Siege  of  Boston \n\ntion  the  body  of  Warren  was  sought  for \namong  the  dead  buried  on  Bunker  Hill.  It \nwas  found,  identified,  and  entombed  at  Boston \nwith  solemn  mourning.  Hancock  presently \nsigned  his  name  on  the  Declaration  of  Inde- \npendence so  large  that  King  George  could \nread  it  without  his  spectacles.  The  Boston \nmerchant  served  the  Continental  Congress \nfor  another  year  as  its  president;  then  re- \nturning to  Boston  he  became  \"King\"  Han- \ncock, the  governor  of  Massachusetts  practi- \ncally for  life.  John  Adams  passed  to  greater \nusefulness  as  envoy  to  France,  first  minister \nto  Great  Britain,  and  finally  as  Washington's \nsuccessor  as  President.  But  to  a  student  of \nBoston  itself  the  mind  dwells  most  willingly \non  Samuel  Adams,  \"the  man  of  the  town \nmeeting,\"  who  roused  the  rebellion,  guided  it \nskilfully,  served  usefully  in  many  public  capaci- \nties, and  became  governor  after  Hancock's \ndeath.  His  statue  stands  to-day  in  the  square \nnamed  after  him,  not  far  from  the  Old  South \nand  the  old  Town  House,  and  within  sight \nof  Faneuil  Hall. \n\n\nThe  Evacuation  443 \n\nBut  we  trespass  beyond  the  period  of \nthis  history.  When  Howe  sailed  away,  Bos- \nton's share  in  the  Revolution  was  practically \nended.  No  attempt  was  made  to  retake  the \ntown,  for  there  could  be  no  profit  in  gaining \nwhat  could  not  be  held.  In  the  remaining \nyears  of  the  war  the  town  had  no  more  serious \nduty  than  fitting  out  ships  of  war  and  priva- \nteers, and  of  entertaining  the  officers  of  the \nFrench  fleet.  But  Boston  had  earned  its \nrest.  For  nearly  sixteen  years  the  town  had \nstood  as  the  spokesman  for  liberty,  the \nleader  of  revolt.  In  bringing  the  country \nsafely  through  a  critical  period,  the  services \nof  Boston  were  essential. \n\n\nINDEX \n\n\nAdams,  John.  57.  65.  Quoted,  67- \n69.  103.  104-105.  Elected  to \nContinental  Congress,  in.  Re- \nfuses to  support  the  king,  112.  126. \n297-299.  His  house,  433.  442. \n\nAdams,  Samuel.  37.  His  earlier \ncareer,  46-50.  Independence  his \nobject,  55-57.  After  the  Mas- \nsacre, 67-70.  Sam  Adams  regi- \nments, 70.  74.  78-103.  Attempt \nto  bribe  him,  106-107.  no-  Tricks \nthe  Governor  at  Salem,  in.  Dem- \nonstration of  respect  for,  114-115. \nGoes  to  the  Continental  Congress, \n116.  138.  Returns  to  Boston, \n140.  155.  158.  178.  183.  187. \n189.  251.  291.  294.  298.  442 \n\nAndrews,  John.  82.  91.  95.  97. \n101.  102  and  note.  107.  114. \n124.  147.  158.  224.  226.  231- \n232.  394.  425.  434. \n\nAndros.    Seizing  of,  8.    70. \n\nArnold,  Benedict.    218.    247.     362. \n\nBarker,  Lieut.,  Quotations  from \nDiary.  148-150.  157.  184.  186. \n192.  195.  196.  212-213.  228. \n246.  249-250.  252.  254.  274. \n268.  412.  421.  427. \n\nBernard,  Francis.  Arrives  as  gov- \nernor, 23.  Cowardice  of,  51.  53. \n54-  66. \n\nBerniere,  Ensign  de.  His  expeditions \nto  map  the  roads,  162  ff.  196. \n203.  207.  215. \n\nBoston,  The  Town  of.  Proposition \nto  make  Boston  a  city,  14.  Det- \nestation of  mobs,  37.  Non-im- \nportation resolve,  46.  Stamp  Act \n\n\nmob,  34-36;  Discussed,  37.  Not \nriotous,  51.  Customs  riot,  53. \nTea-party  town  meetings,  79,  81. \nWhigs,  four  classes  of,  92-96, \nPort  Bill  enforced,  98.  Measures \nof  relief,  100.  Refusal  of  town  to \npay  for  tea,  110.  The  selectmen's \nanswer  to  Gage,  113-114.  State \nof,  1 2o-i  21.  Geography  of,  126- \n127.  After  Powder  Alarm,  131. \nIgnores  Gage,  134.  Situation  in, \n147.  Troubles  with  the  troops, \n148-150.  Growing  intensity,  158- \n160.  The  Whig  watch  upon  Gage, \n176  ff.  The  igth  of  April  hi,  206; \n210— 212.  The  Siege  begins,  214. \nThe  agreement  with  Gage  to  give \nup  arms,  224.  .Inhabitants  leav- \ning, 225;  prevented,  226-227.  For- \ntifications, 234-236.  Evacuated, \n428  ff.  Boston's  service  to  the \nRevolution,  443. \n\nBrush,  Crean.    405.    424.    429.    434. \n\nBunker  Hill.  219.  253-255.  Battle \nof,  256  ff.  British  redoubt  on, \n336, 358.  353-  428. \n\nBurgoyne,  Sir  John.  141-142.  Ar- \nrives at  Boston;  \"Elbow-room,\" \n239.  His  opinion  of  the  situa- \ntion, 240.  Writes  proclamation \nfor  Gage,  250-251.  253.  Descrip- \ntion of  Bunker  Hill,  271,  note. \nWrites  Gage's  letter  to  Washing- \nton, 3 1 2-3 1 3 .  Correspondence  wi  th \nLee,  314  ff.  Opinion  of  the  situa- \ntion after  Bunker  Hill,  332-333. \n334.  Opinion  of  the  Admiral,  330- \n340.  Makes  Old  South  a  riding- \nschool,  399;  and  Faneuil  Hall  a \n\n\n445 \n\n\n446 \n\n\nIndex \n\n\ntheatre,  400.    Sails  for  home,  401. \nReturns  as  a  captive,   402.     438. \nByles,  Mather.    93.    420. \n\nCambridge.  The  Powder  Alarm \ngathering,  123-124.  Ward's  head- \nquarters, 216.  Washington's  head- \nquarters, 374. \n\nCastle,  The;  or  Castle  William.  58. \n67.  70.  122.  431. \n\nCharlestown.  Strategic  importance \nof  its  hills,  127.  Regulars  encamp \nat,  210-220,  252.  253-254.  Battle \nof  Bunker  Hill,  256  ff .  Set  on  fire, \n270.  Further  destruction  of,  for \nfuel,  397,  400. \n\nCharter,  The,  of  Massachusetts. \nOriginal  grant  by  Charles  I,  5.  Of \nWilliam,  9-11.  86.  Laws  practi- \ncally abrogating  the  Charter,  88- \n89. \n\nChatham,  Earl  of.  Pitt  takes  title, \n41.  Illness,  41.  146. \n\nChurch,  Dr.  Benjamin.  A  trusted \npatriot  leader,  176.  Enters  Bos- \nton, 223.  The  first  American \ntraitor,  224.  Treason  discovered, \n327  ff. \n\nClinton,  Sir  Henry.  141.  Arrives \nat  Boston,  239.  260.  257,  note. \n438. \n\nCobble  Hill.    360.    378.    406. \n\nCommon,  Troops  encamped  on,  58. \n\nConcord,  Provincial  Congress  meets \nat,  137.  Berniere's  visit  to,  164. \nProvincial  Congress  meeting  in, \n171.  The  stores  in,  172.  Removal \nbegun,  173. \n\nConcord  Fight.  Nothing  acci- \ndental in  its  occurrence,  173.  The \nmilitia  gather,  194.  Geography  of \nthe  town,  195.  The  British  in, \n195  ff.  The  Fight,  200  ff.  The \nBritish  retreat,  203.  The  Pursuit, \n204  ff. \n\nContinental  Congress. \n\nThe  First.     Massachusetts  dele- \ngates elected,  in.      They  depart \n\n\nfor  Philadelphia,    116.        Resolve \nof  Congress,  139-140. \n\nThe  Second.  188.  291.  Hesi- \ntates before  rebellion,  292. \n\"Adopts\"  the  army,  298-299. \nSends  committee  to  Washington, \n3  64-3  65 .  Is  irregular  and  niggardly \nin  appropriations,  371.  Suggests \nthat  Washington  storm  Boston, \n380-381. \n\nCorrespondence,  Committee  of,  74. \n80.  96-97.  no.  Preserve  order \nin  Massachusetts,  132.  ^ \n\nCurwen,  Judge  Samuel.  229-230, \n232.  233.  439. \n\nCustoms,  Officials  of.  Petition  for \nWrits  of  Assistance,  23.  Com- \nmissioners, 44,  45.  50.  99. \n\nDawes,  William.  His  ride  to  Lexing- \nton, 1 80,  1 86.  Starts  for  Concord, \n1 88.  Strategy  to  escape  pursuers, \n189. \n\nDorchester.  Strategic  importance  of \nthe  Heights,  127,  252.  256.  335. \nFortified,  406  ff.  415.  Nook's \nHill,  421,  427. \n\nEdes,  Peter.    350-351.    352.    353. \nEmerson,  Rev.  William.    Views  Con- \ncord Fight,  201 .    203.    303.    308. \n\nFalmouth,  Burning  of.    356-357. \nFaneuil  Hall.     58.    66.     244.    400. \nFlag.     378-379- \n\nFranklin,  Benjamin.  84-85.  86-87. \n160.  292.  293.  326.  364. \n\nGage,  Thomas.  87.  Governor;  his \ntemperament,  92.  93.  94.  95.  96. \n103.  108.  109.  Is  tricked  by \nSam  Adams,  110-112.  113.  Is \nbaffled  by  selectmen  of  Boston, \n113-114.  116.  119.  Seizes  the \nPowder,  121-122.  123.  Fortifies \nthe  Neck,  126-128.  129.  133.  137. \n138.  Disgusts  the  king,  141.  143. \nHis  character,  145.  148.  Sends \n\n\nIndex \n\n\n447 \n\n\nout  Berniere  to  map  roads,  161  ff. \nPrepares  to  act,  178.  214.  Be- \ntween two  fires,  219-220.  With- \ndraws from  Charlestown,  220.  Let- \nter from  Warren,  221-222.  Agree- \nment with  the  town,  224.  The \nexodus  checked,  226-227.  He  forti- \nfies Boston,  240.  Tries  to  get  hay, \n247  ff-  Issues  a  proclamation,  251. \nStrategy  of  Bunker  Hill,  258-259. \n260.  335.  Continues  to  fortify, \n336.  Interview  with  Newell,  355. \nRecalled,  355.  Departs  rom  Bos- \nton, 356.  In  retirement,  438. \n\nGage,  Mrs.  Thomas.    185.    348. \n\nGeorge  III.  His  mother's  training, \n12.  His  environment,  15-17.  38. \n73-  74-  75-  84.  86.  87.  Plans \nthe  Port  Bill,  88.  340-341.  438. \n\nGraves,  Admiral.   251.  338-340.  404. \n\nGreene,  Nathanael.  242.  323.  329. \n362.  413.  441. \n\nHallowell,  Benjamin.  Chased  into \nBoston,  124.  252. \n\nHancock,  John.  57.  103.  119.  131. \n132.  178-179.  183.  187.  189. \n251.  291.  380.  381.  388.  442. \n\nHow,  David,  324-325.   377-378.406. \n\nHowe,  Sir  William.  143.  Arrives  at \nBoston,  239.  Is  given  command  in \nBunker  Hill  battle,  260.  His \nstrategy,  263;  267.  269.  273. \n277.  287.  333.  Becomes  com- \nmander-in-chief,  357.  Inactivity, \n\n358.  Desires  to  go  to  New  York, \n\n359.  Interview  with  John  Leach, \n396.      Sense  of  security,  404-406. \nSurprised  by  the  taking  of  Dor- \nchester, 411.     Calls  council  of  war, \n412.       Plans  to  attack,  414.      Is \nprevented  by  a  gale,  414.     Orders \nevacuation,    414.          Prepares    to \ndepart,  416  ff.     Accepts  \"notice  to \nquit,\"    427.  Evacuates,    428. \nStays  at  Nantasket  with  his  fleet, \n430.    Sails  for  Halifax,  432.    Public \nindignation  against  him,  436-437. \n\n\nHutchinson,  Thomas.  In  Writs  of \nAssistance  case,  24.  26.  Opposi- \ntion to  Stamp  Act,  32.  At  Stamp \nAct  riot,  34.  His  house  sacked,  36. \n53.  After  the  Massacre,  66.  68. \nGives  way  to  Adams,  69-70. \nGovernor,  73.  Tea-party,  70-81. \nThe  Hutchinson  Letters,  8*r-7s6. \nCalled  to  England,  91.  Quoted, \n106.  187.  Death,  439 . \n\nKnox,  Henry.    At  the  Massacre,  62. \n\n326.  387.    409,  noJve.   441. \n\nLabor,     Restrictions     on,     £Aine's \n\nopinion  of  their  effect  on  the  Revo'1- \n\nlution,  30-31. \nLeach,  John.    34,^.    350.     351.    352- \n\n353-   395-397- \nLechmere's  Point.    323.    358.     360. \n\n367.    378.    406. \nLee,  Charles.      Correspondence  with \n\nBurgoyne,  314  ff.    362.    441. \nLexington.     Hancock  and  Adams  in, \n\n178-179.    183.    187.    189.     Militia \n\nassemble,  190.      The  fight  on  the \n\nGreen,  190  ff.    The  retreat  to,  205. \n\nThe   British   are   reinforced,    206, \n\n208. \nLiberty,  Sloop,  the  Affair  of  the.     52. \n\nSamuel  Adams  at,  56. \nLiberty,  Sons  of.    36.    37.    78. \nLiberty  Tree.     The  Great  Tree,  34- \n\nNamed,  37.    78.    Felled,  395. \nLovell,  James.    350.   352.   353.    419. \n\nMandamus  Councillors.  ii6-n8. \n123.  252. \n\nManly,  Captain.     429. \n\nMarshfield.  Troops  sent  to,  143-144. \nDriven  from,  218-219. \n\nMassacre,  The.  50-65.  Town  Meet- \ning that  followed,  66-70.  71.  104. \nWarren's  second  oration  on,  154  ff. \n\n327.  413- \nMast  trees.     12. \n\nMilitia  of  New  England.  165-168. \nThe  Minute  Men,  168-169.  Sys- \n\n\n448 \n\n\nIndex \n\n\ntern     of     summoning,      160-170. \nGather  at  Concord,  194-195.     The \ngathering   about  Boston,  216-218. \n300-391.    430-431.    436. \nMorrison  the  deserter.    353  flf. \n\nNewell,  Timothy.     353.     354.     355. \n\n395.  399.  414.  420.  423,  and  note. \nNew     England     sentiment     toward \n\nEngland.    8.    9.    n.     18-19.    29. \n\n42-44. \nNon-Importation    Resolves.  46. \n\nBroken,  72-73.    97.    102. \nNorth,  Lord.    87.    89. \n\nOld  South  Church.  Massacre  Town \nMeeting,  66.  Tea-party  meeting, \n81.  153  flf.  Becomes  a  riding- \nschool,  400, 402.  425.  442. \n\nOliver,  Andrew.  Tax-collector,  33. \nBurned  in  effigy,  34.  Resigns \noffice,  35.  At  the  Powder  Alarm, \n123-124. \n\nOliver,  Peter.     121. \n\nOtis,  James.     25-27.    46.     266. \n\nPercy,  Lord.  Opinion  of  the  Ameri- \ncans, 153.  Opinion  changed,  213. \n185.  226.  412.  414. \n\nPitcairn,  Major.  184.   192-194.    198. \n\n11  279.     284. \n\nPomeroy,  Seth.    19.    146.    266.    305. \n\nPort  Bill.  88.  In  force  June  i,  1774, \n98.  436. \n\nPowder  Alarm.     123  flf. \n\nPrescott,  Dr.  Rides  with  Revere, \n1 88.  Escapes  capture,  188,  189. \n197. \n\nPrescott,  William,  of  Pepperell.  216. \n255.  256.  258.  260.  261.  264. \n270.  278.  279.  280.  284.  362. \n\nProvincial  Congress  of  Massachusetts. \nThe  First.    Suggested  by  Suffolk \nResolves,  130.       Boston   delegates \nelected,  134-135.     Organized,   137. \nMeets  at  Concord,  137.      Acts  of, \n138. \nThe  Second.    Meets,  146. \n\n\nPutnam,  Israel.  121.  125.  217. \n242.  246.  253.  257.  264.  270. \n277.  282.  283.  288.  289,  and  note. \n304.  362.  413.  415.  428.  430. \n\nQuincy,  Josiah,  Jr.    57.    65. \n\nRegulating  Act.  89.  News  of  its \npassage,  121-113.  Declared  un- \nconstitutional, 130. \n\nRemonstrance  and  Circular  Letter. \n49.  Refusal  of  Assembly  to  rescind, \n54- \n\nRevenue  Acts.  Provisions  of,  44. \nPassed,  45.  Repealed,  72. \n\nRevere,  Paul.  37.  54.  138.  170. \n173.  His  account  of  himself, \n174  flf.  His  ride,  180  ff.  Is  cap- \ntured, 188.  Released,  189.  Story \nof  Dr.  Church,  223. \n\nSafety,  Committee  of.  Appointed, \n139.  Warren  a  member  of,  146. \n242.  254. \n\nSalem.  Made  port  of  entry,  88.  97- \n98.  99.  Town  meeting,  119. \nGage  withdraws  to  Boston,  133. \nTroops  sent  to,  144-145. \n\nShuldham,  Admiral.    404.    412. \n\nSiege.  Summary  of,  2-3.  Froth- \ningham's  history  of,  3,  note.  Be- \nginning of,  214-215,  The  army \nbefore  Boston,  241  ff .  The  provin- \ncials seize  the  hay  and  livestock  on \nthe  harbor  islands,  248-250.  They \nplan  to  seize  Bunker  Hill,  253. \nThe  battle,  256  flf.  Washington \ntakes  command,  301.  He  strips \nthe  harbor  islands,  318-319.  The \nAmerican  navy,  319-320.  Dicker- \ning in  camp,  324.  The  British  in \nBoston,  332.  Operations,  336-338. \nDesertion,  343~344-  Diversions \nof  the  garrison,  348 ;  and  of  Whigs, \n349.  Imprisonments,  351  ff.  Brit- \nish go  into  winter  quarters,  359. \nEfforts  to  provision  Boston,  392- \n393.  Shortage  of  fuel,  394.  Di- \n\n\nIndex \n\n\n449 \n\n\nversions  of  the  officers,  397-398. \nThe  Old  South  becomes  a  riding- \nschool,  399;  and  Faneuil  Hall  a \nplayhouse,  400.  The  interrupted \nfarce,  400.  Discomforts  in  the \ntown,  402-403.  Smallpox,  403. \nWashington  seizes  Dorchester,  406 \nff.  Howe  decides  to  attack,  412. \nIs  prevented  by  a  storm,  414. \nEvacuation  ordered,  414.  Confu- \nsion in  the  town,  420  ff.  Nook's \nHill  taken,  427.  Evacuation,  428. \nPutnam  enters,  428.  The  town \ndefended  from  sea  attack,  430. \nHowe' s  fleet  sails,  43  2 .  The  Ameri- \ncans enter,  432.  Highlanders  cap- \ntured, 436.  Howe's  squadron \ndriven  away,  436. \n\nSons  of  Liberty.    36.    37.    78. \n\nStamp  Act.  26.  Provisions  of,  27. \nOpposition  to  its  passage,  31. \nOpposition  to  its  enforcement,  32- \n34.  38.  Stamp  Act  Congress,  38. \nRepeal,  38. \n\nStark,  John.  218.  242,  266-7.  27o, \n288.  362. \n\nSuffolk  County  Convention.  128. \nResolves  of ,  120-130. \n\nSugar  Act,  The,  of  1733.  23.  Re- \nenacted  1763,  26.  42. \n\nTaxation  of  the  Colonies.  27-30. \n31.  38-39.  Declaratory  Act,  41. \n42.  44-45.  \"Farmer's  Letters,\" \n46.  Revenue  Acts,  44,  45,  72. \nTax  on  Tea,  72. \n\nTea.  Tax  on,  72.  75-76.  Its  con- \nnection with  the  Revolution,  77. \nBoston  refuses  to  pay  for,  no. \n\nTea-Party.    Boston.    74-84,  138. \n\nThomas,  John.  146.  245-6.  289. \n362.  413. \n\nTiconderoga.  Taking  of,  247.  Can- \nnon brought  to  Boston,  387. \n\nTories.  21-23,  28.  39.  no.  133. \nTory  sentiment,  151-152.  Tories \nprevent  the  Whigs  from  leaving \nBoston,  226-7.  Tory  refugees, \n\n\n228.  Situation  in  the  country, \n232-3.  Military  companies,  234. \n251.  331.  345-6.  Enlistments, \n347-348.  Surprised  at  order  for \nevacuation,  418.  Decide  to  leave \nBoston,  419.  Genteel  thievery, \n425.  Evacuation,  428.  Their  fate, \n438  ff. \n\nTown  government.     7.  15. \n\nTownshend,  Charles.    42. \n\nTrade  restrictions.  12-13,  28.  See \nalso  Taxation,  Non-Importation \nResolves. \n\nTroops  in  Boston.  Demands  for,  50, \n54.  Sent,  55.  Landed,  58.  Their \nlife  in  Boston,  59.  The  Massacre, \n60  ff.  Withdrawn  to  the  Castle, \n70.  147-8.  Diary  of  Lieut. \nBarker,  148.  Discontent,  148-150. \nOpinion  of  Americans,  153.  Opin- \nion changed,  213.  Gage's  force, \nApril,  1775,  161.  The  Concord \nexpedition,  184,  186.  Condition  in \nearly  siege,  237.  Opinion  of  the \nYankees,  238.  Reinforcements, \n239,  252.  Opinion  of  Bunker  Hill \nbattle,  286.  Lack  of  fresh  provi- \nsion, 341.  High  death  rate  among \nthe  wounded,  342-343.  Summer \ncomfort,  345.  Feel  shame  at \nevacuation,  432. \n\nWard,    Artemas.      146.    241.     242. \n\n245.    246.    264.    274.    275.     281. \n\n284.    289-    304- \nWarren,  Joseph.  57.  103.    104.    no. \n\nAt  Powder  Alarm,  124.  128.  131. \nBecomes  leader  in  absence  of \nAdams,  135.  Letter  concerning \nEpiscopalians,  136.  Leads  the  Pro- \nvincial Congress,  137-138.  146. \nSecond  Oration  on  the  Massacre, \n153  ff.  176.  179.  Sends  out \nDawes  and  Revere,  180.  His  ac- \ntions on  the  1 9th  of  April,  208-9. \n214.  Letter  to  Gage,  221-2.  242. \nGoes  to  Bunker  Hill,  266.  His \nconduct  and  death,  281-3.  44*- \n\n\n4SO \n\n\nIndex \n\n\nWashington,  George.  136.  272. \n294-297.  298.  299.  300.  Takes \ncommand,  301.  His  importance \nin  the  war,  302.  303.  304.  Diffi- \nculty with  generals,  304-5;  with \nsoldiers,  305-8;  with  uniforms, \n308-9.  Fortifies,  310,  311.  Corre- \nspondence with  Gage,  313.  314. \nBurns  the  lighthouse,  318-9.  His \nnavy,  319.  Difficulties,  320-1. \nLack  of  powder,  321,  382;  of \nmuskets,  323,  384-385.  His  use \nof  pikes,  326.  Councils  of  war,  329, \n336.  Seizes  Cobble  Hill  and  Lech- \nmere  Point,  360.  His  military \nstrength  and  weakness,  362-363. \nReorganization,  364-5.  Winter \nquarters,  366.  Difficulties,  368  ff. \nJoined  by  his  wife,  373.  Trouble \nwith  Connecticut  troops,  374. \nEnlistments,  375  ff.  Eager  to \nattack  Boston,  381.  His  summary \nof  his  difficulties,  381-82;  383  ff. \nOpinion  of  his  men,  388-389.  Pre- \npares to  take  Dorchester,  389-392. \nSeizes  Dorchester,  406  ff.  Is \nready  for  Howe's  assault,  413. \n\n\nDisappointed    at    its    prevention, \n\n415.  Awaits  Howe's  departure, \n\n416.  418.     419.     Sends  troops  to \nNew  York,  422,  429.        Fortifies \nNook's  Hill,  427.      Takes  posses- \nsion of  Boston,  428.    Fortifies,  430. \nPuzzled  by  Howe's  stay  at  Nan- \ntasket,  430.     Dines  with  John  An- \ndrews, 434.     Starts  for  New  York, \n435.    His  conduct  of  the  siege,  441. \n\nWhigs  and  Tories  contrasted.  2 1-23 . \n418. \n\nWhigs.  Their  four  classes  in  Boston, \n92-96.  Leaders  of,  103  ff.  108. \nTheir  acts  betrayed,  109.  Their \ndifficulties,  113.  Force  resigna- \ntions of  Mandamus  councillors, \n117-118.  131.  138.  Their  watch \non  Gage,  176  ff.  Difficulties  at \nevacuation,  426. \n\nWinthrop,  John.  \"Avoid  or  pro- \ntract,\" 8.  His  house  pulled \ndown,  397. \n\nWrits  of  Assistance.  Petition  for,  23. \nCase  tried  before  Hutchinson,  24. \nOtis'  speech,  25.  Judgment  de- \nlayed, 26. \n\n\n'\"THE  following  pages  contain  advertisements  of  a \nfew  of  the  Macmillan  books  on  kindred  subjects \n\n\nStories  from  American  History \n\nYankee  Ships  and  Yankee  Sailors \n\nBY  JAMES  BARNES \n\nTales  of  1812,  by  the  author  of  \" Drake  and  his  Yeomen,\"  \"For  King \nand  Country,\"  etc.  Illustrated  by  R.  F.  ZOGBAUM  and  CARLTON  T. \nCHAPMAN. \n\nDecorated  cloth,  illustrated,  $1.50  net;  by  mail,  $1.61 \n\nThe  Wilderness  Road \n\nBY  H.  ADDINGTON  BRUCE \n\nThe  central  figure  in  this  story  of  the  early  development  of  the  Middle \nWest  is  Daniel  Boone,  the  man  who  blazed  the  famous  Wilderness  road. \nIn  telling  his  story  Mr.  Bruce  touches  on  such  matters  as  the  economic \nand  social  factors  influencing  the  movement  across  the  mountains,  and \nthe  significance  of  that  movement  with  relation  to  the  growth  of  revo- \nlutionary sentiment  in  the  American  colonies,  etc. \n\nDecorated  cloth,  illustrated,  $f.$o  net;   by  mail,  $f.6j \n\nThe  Story  of  the  Great  Lakes \n\nBY  EDWARD  CHANNING  AND  MARION  F.  LANSING \n\nThe  Professor  of  American  History  in  Harvard  University,  author  of  a \nnumber  of  volumes  on  the  History  of  the  United  States,  has  found  an  im- \nmense amount  of  romance  centred  about  the  Great  Lakes,  from  the  time \nof  their  discovery  and  early  exploration  by  the  French  missionaries  down \nto  the  present  time  when  they  play  so  important  a  part  in  the  industrial \nprogress  of  the  Middle  West.  This  book  tells  the  story  of  these  great  in- \nland waterways,  with  special  reference  to  those  picturesque  aspects  of  his- \ntory which  interest  the  general  reader. \n\nDecorated  cloth,  illustrated,  $f.jo  net ;  by  mail,  $f.6j \n\nThe  Story  of  Old  Fort  Loudon \n\nBY  CHARLES  EGBERT  CRADDOCK \n\nA  Tale  of  the  Cherokees  and  the  Pioneers  of  Tennessee,  1760,  by  the \nauthor  of  \"  The  Prophet  of  the  Great  Smoky  Mountains.\"  Illustrated  by \nERNEST  C.  PEIXOTTO. \n\nDecorated  cloth,  illustrated,  $f.jO  net ;  by  mail,  $f.6j \n\n\nSTORIES  FROM  AMERICAN  HISTORY—  Continued \n\n\nSouthern  Soldier  Stories \n\nBY  GEORGE  GARY  EGGLESTON \n\nForty-seven  stories  illustrating  the  heroism  of  those  brave  Americans  who \nfought  on  the  losing  side  in  the  Civil  War.  Humor  and  pathos  are  found \nside  by  side  in  these  pages,  which  bear  evidence  of  absolute  truth.  Illus- \ntrated by  RUFUS  F.  ZOGBAUM. \n\nDecorated  cloth,  illustrated,  $1.50  net ;   by  mail,  $f.6o \n\nTales  of  the  Enchanted  Isles  of  the  Atlantic \n\nBY  THOMAS  WENTWORTH  HIGGINSON \n\nLegends  showing  that  the  people  of  Europe  were  for  centuries  fed  with \nromances  of  marvellous  and  beautiful  countries  beyond  the  Atlantic.  Be- \nsides the  early  Irish,  Spanish,  and  other  traditions  of  the  Happy  Islands \nof  the  West,  there  come  to  us,  among  others  from  our  own  race,  the  old \nstories  of  King  Arthur  and  his  Avalon;  of  St.  Brandan's  Isle;  of  the  Voy- \nages of  Erik  the  Viking;  and  of  the  vanishing  Norumbega,  so  real  a  vision \nto  the  imaginations  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  day.  Illustrated  by  ALBERT \nHERTER. \n\nDecorated  cloth,  illustrated,  $f.$o  net ;  by  mail,  $1.62 \n\nDe  Soto  and  His  Men  in  the  Land  of  Florida \n\nBY  GRACE  KING \n\nThe  author  of  \"  New  Orleans :  The  Place  and  the  People  \"  has  collected \ninto  an  entertaining  volume  stories  of  the  brilliant  armada  which  sailed \nwestward  under  De  Soto  in  1538  to  subdue  the  natives  and  bring  this \ncountry  under  the  Spanish  crown.  Old  Spanish  and  Portuguese  narra- \ntives are  the  basis  of  its  history.  Illustrated  by  GEORGE  GIBBS. \n\nDecorated  cloth,  illustrated,  $1.50  net ;    by  mail,  $1.63 \n\n\nSTORIES  FROM  AMERICAN  HISTORY—  Continued \n\n\nThe  Story  of  the  New  England  Whalers \n\nBY  JOHN  R.   SPEARS \n\nSome  of  the  most  romantic  and  adventurous  characters  in  American  his- \ntory are  dealt  with  in  this  book,  in  which  Mr.  Spears  tells  of  the  Ameri- \ncan whaling  industry.  He  has  given  us  the  life  stories  of  the  men  to \nwhom  more  than  to  any  others  was  due  the  upbuilding  of  the  American \nmerchant  service.  Illustrated  from  photographs. \n\nDecorated  cloth,  illustrated,  $1.50  net ;  by  mail,  $f.6j \n\nThe  Story  of  the  American  Merchant  Marine \n\nBY  JOHN  R.   SPEARS \n\n\"  For  over  twenty  years  Mr.  Spears  has  been  regarded  as  an  authority  on \nAmerican  sea  enterprises.  The  books  from  his  pen  are  based  upon  long \nstudy  of  the  topics  he  treats.  ...  In  the  present  volume  he  tells  the \nstory  of  our  merchant  marine  from  its  beginnings,  through  all  the  phases \nof  its  history  .  .  .  that  have  marked  this  feature  of  our  activities  since \nthe  Civil  War.\"  —  Advocate  of  Peace. \n\nDecorated  clotk,  illustrated,  $1.50  net;   by  mail,  $1.64 \n\nBuccaneers  and  Pirates  of  Our  Coast \n\nBY  FRANK  R.   STOCKTON \n\nThis  book  is  an  account  of  the  offshoots  of  the  early  English,  French,  and \nDutch  combinations  against  Spanish  exactions  in  West  India  waters. \nFrom  the  early  buccaneer  and  later  pirates  Mr.  Stockton  has  told  these \nwild  and  entertaining  stories  of  picturesque  figures.  Illustrated  by  G. \nVARIAN  and  B.  W.  CLINEDINST. \n\nDecorated  cloth,  illustrated,  $1.50  net;  by  mail,  $i.6j \n\nThe  Last  American  Frontier \n\nBY  PROFESSOR  FREDERIC  L.   PAXSON \n\n\"  His  happy  mastery  of  his  subject  enables  his  readers  to  grasp  it  far \nmore  effectually  than  by  the  method  of  supplying  them  with  dates  and \nincidents  and  leaving  them  to  shape  their  own  vision  of  the  progress  of \nsettlement  as  a  whole.\"  —  The  Living  Age. \n\nDecorated  cloth,  illustrated,  $f.$o  net ;  by  mail,  $r.6r \n\n\nPUBLISHED    BY \n\nTHE   MACMILLAN   COMPANY \n\n64-66  Fifth  Avenue,  New  York \n\n\nILLUSTRATED   DESCRIPTIONS   OF \nAMERICAN  PLACES  AND  PEOPLE \n\nBY  M.  A.  DfiWOLFE  HOWE \n\nBoston  :  The  Place  and  the  People \n\nWith  over  one  hundred  illustrations,  including  many  from  pen  drawings \nexecuted  especially  for  this  volume  by  L.  A.  HOLMAN. \n\nDecorated  cloth,  boxed,  $2.00  net;  by  mail,  $2.20 \n\nBY  MRS.  ST.  JULIEN  RAVENEL \n\nCharleston  :  The  Place  and  the  People \n\nIllustrated  from  photographs  and  drawings  by  VERNON  H.  BAILEY. \n\nDecorated  cloth,  boxed,  $2.00  net;  by  mail,  $2.20 \n\nBY  GRACE  KING \n\nNew  Orleans  :  The  Place  and  the  People \n\nWith  eighty-three  illustrations  from  drawings  by  FRANCES  JONES. \n\nDecorated  cloth,  boxed,  $2.00  net;  by  mail,  $2.20 \n\nBY  AGNES  REPPLIER \n\nPhiladelphia  :  The  Place  and  the  People \n\nWith  eighty-two  illustrations  from  drawings  by  ERNEST  C.  PEIXOTTO. \n\nDecorated  cloth,  boxed,  $2.00  net;  by  mail,  $2.20 \n\nBY  JOHN  C.  VAN  DYKE \n\nThe  New  New  York :  The  Place  and  the  People \n\nWith  one  hundred  and  twenty-six  illustrations,  including  twenty-four  in \ncolor,  by  JOSEPH  PENNELL. \n\nDecorated  cloth,  $4.00  net;  by  mail,  $4.22 \n\n\nWelcome  books,  either  for  the  traveller's  use  during  his  visit,  or  as  a \npleasant  reminder  of  bygone  days,  or  to  bring  the  different  districts  vividly \nbefore  the  minds  of  intending  travellers,  or  before  those  who  are  unable  to \nleave  home.  \n\nPUBLISHED    BY \n\nTHE   MACMILLAN   COMPANY \n\n64-66  Fifth  Avenue,  New  York \n\n\nPLEASE  DO  NOT  REMOVE \nCARDS  OR  SLIPS  FROM  THIS  POCKET \n\nUNIVERSITY  OF  TORONTO  LIBRARY \n\n\nE \n\n231 \n\nF87 \n\n1911 \n\nC.I \n\nROBA \n\n\n- \n\n\n","title":"The Siege of Boston","updated_at":"2026-09-05T10:00:24.067199Z","urn":"urn:lemay:boston:document:the-siege-of-boston","version":1,"withdrawn_reason":null},"urn":"urn:lemay:boston:document:the-siege-of-boston","version_history":[{"change_note":"accessioned from the Internet Archive, item siegeofboston00frenuoft","changed_by":"archive-ingest 0.1.0","recorded_at":"2026-09-05T10:00:24.364343Z","version":1}]}