Chapter 28: 1774
The War of the Revolution

For two months the armies in and around Boston had watched each other. General Gage, in the mean time, had received large reinforcements. These were led by three commanders of reputation: Generals Howe, Burgoyne, and Henry Clinton. We may judge of the surprise of these generals to find the king’s regulars "hemmed in by what they termed a rustic rout, with calico frocks and fowling-pieces." "What!" exclaimed Burgoyne, "ten thousand peasants keep five thousand king’s troops shut up! Well, let us get in, and we’ll soon find elbow room." This vain boast was followed by no decided movement. Gage merely sent forth a proclamation, declared the province under martial law, and offered pardon to all the rebels who should return to their allegiance, except Samuel Adams and John Hancock. These "rebels" were placed beyond the pale of the king’s mercy.

The patriot soldiers, numbering about fifteen thousand, had come from various towns, in independent companies, under their own leaders; their friends in their respective towns supplied them with provisions. The Massachusetts troops were under General Ward; John Stark led the New Hampshire volunteers; Putnam commanded those from Connecticut, and Nathaniel Greene the regiment from Rhode Island. The artillery, consisting of nine pieces, was under the control of the venerable Colonel Gridley. The great majority of the soldiers were clad in their homespun working clothes; some had rifles and some had fowling-pieces. The British greatly exasperated them by taunts and acts expressive of contempt. Opposed to the motley group of patriot soldiers, was a well-disciplined army of ten thousand men, under experienced commanders.

It was rumored that Gage intended to seize and fortify Bunker’s Hill and Dorchester Heights—the one lying north and the other south of the town. In order to prevent this, some of the patriots proposed that they should take possession of the hill themselves. The more cautious were opposed to the enterprise, as extremely hazardous; it might provoke a general action, and they were deficient in ammunition and guns. But the fearless Putnam felt confident, with proper intrenchments, the patriots could not fail of success. "The Americans," said he, "are never afraid of their heads, they only think of their legs; shelter them, and they will fight forever." It was reported that the enemy intended to seize Bunker Hill on the night of the eighteenth of June, and therefore not a moment was to be lost. On the evening of Friday the sixteenth, a company of about twelve hundred men, with their arms, and provisions for twenty-four hours, assembled on the common at Cambridge. Very few of them knew where they were going, but all knew that it was into danger. Prayer was offered by President Langdon, of Harvard College. About nine o’clock they commenced their march, under the command of Colonel William Prescott, a veteran of the French War; one in whom the soldiers had implicit confidence. Charlestown Neck was strongly guarded, but they passed over it in safety, and were soon on the ground. Bunker Hill was designated in the orders, but Breed’s Hill, as it had a better command of the harbor, was fortified instead. The ground was speedily marked out, and about midnight the men commenced their labors. Early twilight revealed to the astonished eyes of the British sailors in the harbor the strong redoubt that had sprung up so suddenly on the hill-top, and the Americans still busy at their work. Without waiting for orders, the sloop-of-war Lively opened her guns upon them; a floating battery and other ships did the same. The firing roused the people of Boston. Gage, through his spyglass, noticed Prescott, who was on the parapet inspecting the works. "Who is that officer in command," he asked; "will he fight?" "He is an old soldier, and will fight to the last drop of his blood," replied one who knew Prescott well. "The works must be carried," remarked Gage. An hour later the plan of attack was decided upon by a council of war.

From the heights the Americans saw and heard the bustle of preparation. Repeated messages were sent to General Ward for the promised reinforcements. Putnam hurried to Cambridge to urge the demand in person. Ward hesitated lest he should weaken the main division. It was eleven o’clock before Stark and Reed, with their regiments, were ordered to the relief of Prescott, and the wearied soldiers, who had been laboring all night at the redoubt.

About noon, twenty-eight barges filled with soldiers, under the command of Generals Howe and Pigott, left Boston. The ships kept up an incessant cannonade to cover their landing. General Howe discovered that the works were stronger than he anticipated, and he sent to General Gage for reinforcements; his men, while waiting, were regaled with refreshments and "grog." Meantime the Americans strengthened their works, and formed a rustic breastwork; to do this, they pulled up a post-and-rail fence, placed it behind a stone fence, and filled the space between with new-mown grass. This extended down the side of the hill north of the redoubt to a swamp.

Now they were cheered by the sight of Stark, who appeared with five hundred men. As he marched leisurely along, some one suggested a rapid movement. The veteran replied, "One fresh man in action is worth ten tired ones"; and he moved quietly on. A part of his force halted with Putnam at Bunker Hill, and a part joined Knowlton behind the fence breastwork. About two o’clock, Dr. Warren, who had recently been appointed major-general, but had not received his commission, arrived. He came, as did Pomeroy, to serve in the ranks. When Putnam pointed him to the redoubt, and said, "There you will be under cover." "Don’t think," replied Warren, "that I seek a place of safety—where will the attack be the hottest?" Still pointing to the same spot, Putnam answered: "That is the enemy’s object; if that can be maintained the day is ours." when Warren entered the redoubt, the soldiers received him with hearty cheers. Prescott offered him the command, which he gracefully declined, saying: "I shall be happy to learn from a soldier of your experience."

The day was clear and bright: the British, in their brilliant uniforms, presented a fine appearance. Thousands watched every movement from the housetops in Boston and from the neighboring hills. Fathers, husbands, sons, and brothers were to meet the enemy, for the first time, in a regular battle. The expedition had commenced with prayer on Cambridge green, and now Minister McClintock, of New Hampshire, was passing among the men praying and exhorting them to stand firm.

About half-past two o’clock, the British, confident of an easy victory, advanced; one division, under General Pigott, marched up the hill to storm the redoubt in front, while the others, under General Howe, advanced against the fence breastwork, in order to gain the rear and cut off the retreat. The redoubt was commanded by Prescott. Stark, Knowlton, and Reed, with some of the New Hampshire and Connecticut men, were at the fence. As he saw the enemy advancing, Prescott, with his usual presence of mind, passed among his men and encouraged them. "The redcoats," said he, "will never reach the redoubt, if you will but withhold your fire till I give the order, and be careful not to shoot over their heads." The impetuous Putnam, who seems to have had no special command, was everywhere. "Wait till you see the whites of their eyes, aim at their waistbands, pick off the handsome coats, steady my lads," were his directions as he rode along the lines. "Wait for orders and fire low," was the policy that controlled the movements on Bunker Hill.

The British, as they advanced, kept up an incessant discharge of musketry. Not a sound issued from the Americans. When Pigott’s division came within forty paces, those in the redoubt levelled their guns for a moment, then Prescott gave the word: "Fire!" whole ranks were cut down. The enemy fell back, but urged on by their officers, again advanced. The Americans allowed them to come nearer than before, but received them more warmly. The carnage was dreadful; Pigott himself ordered a retreat. At the same moment Howe’s division was also retreating. The brave band who guarded the fence, had allowed him to advance within thirty paces, then had poured in their reserved fire with deadly effect. Both divisions retired down the hill to the shore. Gage had threatened that he would burn the town of Charlestown if the Americans should occupy the heights. The threat was now carried into execution by bombs thrown from the ships and Copp’s Hill. The conflagration added new horrors to the scene.

The British resolved upon a second attack. This proved a counterpart of the first. By volleys discharged at the right moment, and with unerring aim, their whole force was driven back. Their officers labored to check them, even urged them on with their swords, but in vain, they retreated to the shore. "If we drive them back once more," exclaimed Prescott, "they cannot rally again." "We are ready for the redcoats again," was the response from the redoubt.

General Clinton watched the movements from Copp’s Hill. He witnessed the repulse of the "king’s regulars" with astonishment; he hastened over as a volunteer with reinforcements. Some officers were opposed to another attack; they thought it little short of butchery to lead men in the face of such sharp-shooting. Now they learned that the ammunition of the Americans was nearly exhausted. They resolved to carry the redoubt at the point of the bayonet. The attack was to be specially directed against an open space which they had noticed between the breastwork and the fortified fence. The Americans used what little powder they had with great effect; they could pour in but a single volley upon the enemy; but by this a number of British officers were slain. The British, however, advanced with fixed bayonets, and assailed the redoubt on three sides. The first who appeared on the parapet, as he cried out, "The day is ours," was shot down. Now followed a desperate encounter; those Americans who had not bayonets fought with stones and the butts of their muskets. It was impossible to maintain the ground; Prescott gave the word, and they commenced an orderly retreat. The aged Pomeroy clubbed his musket and retreated with his face to the enemy. Stark, Knowlton, and Reed, kept their position at the fence till their companions had left the redoubt and passed down the hill, and thus prevented the enemy from cutting off the retreat; then they slowly retired.

About three thousand British were engaged in this battle, and about fifteen hundred Americans. The British lost more than one thousand men, an unusual proportion of whom were officers, among whom was Major Pitcairn, of Lexington memory; while the Americans lost but four hundred and fifty, but among these was Dr. Warren. He was one of the last to leave the redoubt; he had scarcely passed beyond it when he fell. On the morning of that day he had expressed himself willing, if necessary, to die for his country.—That country has embalmed his name as one of the bravest and noblest of her sons.

The raw militia had met the British "regulars," and had proved themselves their equals; they had left the field only when destitute of ammunition.

The British ministry was not satisfied with this victory, nor were the Americans discouraged by this defeat. When the news of the battle reached England, General Gage was at once recalled. When Washington learned of it from the courier who was hastening to Congress with the news, he exclaimed: "The liberties of the country are safe!"

This famous battle took place on the seventeenth of June; on the twenty-first, Washington accompanied by Generals Lee and Schuyler, left Philadelphia to join the army as Commander-in-chief. General Charles Lee was an Englishman by birth; a soldier by profession, he had been engaged in campaigns in various parts of Europe, and in the French war. Frank in disposition, but sarcastic in manner, and evidently soured by disappointment, he had resigned the British service, and for some reason indulged in feelings of bitter animosity to the English name. His connection with their cause was counted of great consequence by the Americans.

General Philip Schuyler was a native of New York, of Dutch descent. As a man of wealth, position, education, and well-known integrity, he had great influence in that province. He had some experience, also, in military affairs; during the French war, when a youth of two and twenty, he campaigned with Sir William Johnson and his Mohawks. Though in his native province the rich and influential were generally loyalists, from the beginning of the troubles Schuyler ardently espoused the cause of the colonists. He was versed in civil affairs, having been a member of the New York General Assembly, and recently a delegate to Congress, where his practical good sense had attracted attention. At this time, danger was apprehended from the Mohawks, who lived in the northern and central parts of New York. It was feared that, influenced by the Johnson family, they would rally against the colonists. Sir William Johson, of whom we have spoken, the ancestor of this family, was of Scotch-Irish descent, a man of vigorous mind, but of coarse associations; he had acquired great influence over the Indians by adopting their customs, had married an Indian wife, sister of Brandt, the chief, afterward so famous. For nearly thirty years he was agent for the Five Nations; he became rich by traffic, and lived in his castle on the Mohawk river, in baronial style, with Scotch Highlanders as tenants. Sir William was dead, but his son and heir, John Johnson, and his son-in-law, Guy Johnson, were suspected of tampering with the Mohawks, No one knew the state of affairs in New York better than Schuyler; he was acquainted with the tory aristocracy; he understood the Johnsons, and to him Washington intrusted the charge of that province.

As a singular incident it may be noted that as Washington approached New York by way of New Jersey, the ship on board of which was the royalist governor Tryon, who was just returning from England, came into the harbor. The committee appointed to do the honors was somewhat perplexed. Fortunately their principles were not tested: these two men, the one representative of the Continental Congress, the other of the king, did not reach the city at the same time. The escort that received Washington, were at leisure, a few hours later, to render to Governor Tryon the same honor.

The Commander-in-chief was met at Springfield by the committee of the Massachusetts Provincial Congress, and escorted to the camp. The greatest enthusiasm prevailed; the soldiers everywhere greeted him with hearty cheers. Such a welcome, while it gratified his feelings, was calculated to increase his sense of responsibility. A great work was before him—a work not yet begun; he was to bring order out of confusion; to lead on the cause of freedom to a successful issue. In his letters written about this time, he expresses a calm trust in a Divine Providence, that wisely orders all things.

A personal survey of the army revealed more perfectly the difficulties to be overcome. It numbered about fourteen thousand men; to be effective, it must be increased to twenty or thirty thousand. The troops were unorganized and undisciplined, without uniforms, poorly clad, and imperfectly armed. To discipline these volunteers would be no easy task; they could not be subjected to strict military rule. Even among this noble band of patriot officers were jealousies to be soothed, and prejudices to be regarded. Some felt that they had been overlooked or underrated in the appointments made by Congress.

A council of war resolved to maintain the present line of works, to capture the British, or drive them out of Boston. Washington chose for his headquarters a central position at Cambridge; here was stationed Major-General Putnam and Brigadier-General Heath. General Artemas Ward was stationed with the right wing at Roxbury, and General Charles Lee commanded the left on Prospect Hill. Under Lee were the Brigadier-Generals Green and Sullivan, and under Ward the Generals Spencer and Thomas. Of this number, Greene merits special notice. His father a farmer, miller, and anchor smith, as well as occasionally a Quaker preacher, endeavored to train his son in his own faith. The son’s tastes were decidedly military. Of a genial disposition, he was fond of social amusements, but never at the expense of things more important. He cultivated his mind by reading the best English authors of the time on science and history; to do this he snatched the moments from daily toil. Industrious and strictly temperate, his perceptions were clear, and his love of order almost a passion. With zest he read books on military tactics, and before he had laid aside the Quaker costume, he tooks lessons in the science of military drill by watching the exercises and maneuvers of the British troops on parade on Boston common. Their order and precision had a charm for the embryo general. None took a deeper interest than he in the questions that agitated the country, and he was more than once chosen by the people to represent them in the Colonial Legislature.

The army was now joined by some companies of riflemen, mostly Scotch and Irish; backwoodsmen of Pennsylvania, Virginia, and Maryland, enlisted by orders of Congress, They had marched six hundred miles in twenty days. In their peculiar dress, the hunting-shirt, and their motto, "Liberty or Death," worn on their head-band, their robust appearance, their stature, scarcely one of them being less than six feet, excited admiration, much more did their feats of sharp-shooting, "When advancing at a quick step," it was said, "they could hit a mark of seven inches diameter at a distance of two hundred and fifty yards." Their leader, Daniel Morgan, was a native of New Jersey, though brought up on the frontiers of Virginia. When a youth his education had been neglected; he could scarcely read or write; unpolished in his manners, generous in his impulses, honorable in his own feelings, he instinctively scorned meanness or duplicity in others. In his twentieth year, as a wagoner, he took his first lessons in warfare in Braddock’s unfortunate campaign. His character adapted itself to emergencies. When left to act in responsible situations his good sense was never at fault; wherever placed he performed well his part.

As soon as he obtained the requisite information, Washington laid before Congress the state of the army, with suggestions as to the best means to furnish it with provisions, munitions, and men. He also suggested that diversities of uniform had a tendency to encourage sectional feelings, and recommended Congress to provide at least ten thousand hunting shirts adding, "I know nothing in a speculative view more trivial, yet which, if put in practice, would have a happier tendency to unite the men, and abolish those provincial distinctions that lead to jealousy and dissatisfaction." This was the origin of the peculiar uniform of American soldiers. A few days after this report was sent to Congress, it was discovered that, by mistake, a false return of the powder in the camp had been made—the supply was nearly exhausted. This discovery crippled every movement, and left the Americans at the mercy of the enemy should they be attacked. Their only safety lay in silence and inaction. Messengers were hurried in every direction to collect and send to the camp all the powder that could be obtained. In about a fortnight they procured a small supply.

We now turn to affairs in New York, where, it will be remembered, Schuyler had command. After their brave exploits on Lake Champlain, Arnold and Allen both claimed authority over the captured forts—the former referred to Massachusetts, the latter to Connecticut, to confirm their respective claims. As these forts belonged to New York, Allen wrote to the Congress of that province for supplies of men and money to defend them. But the whole matter was, at length, referred to the Continental Congress, which decided that New York should have the charge of the forts, and authorized it to call upon New England for aid in their defense. The call was made upon Connecticut, in answer to which Colonel Hinman, with a thousand men, was sent to join Arnold. Allen’s Green Mountain Boys were by this time disbanded, as their term of enlistment had expired. These war spirits, Arnold and Allen, had urged upon the Continental Congress to furnish them means to invade Canada. Allen, in company with Seth Warner, went in person to that body for authority to raise a new regiment. It was granted, and the New York Congress was recommended to receive this regiment of their ancient enemies into the regular army. They were to choose their own leader. For some reason Warner was chosen, and Allen entirely neglected; but not to be baffled when a fight was on hand, he joined the army as a volunteer. Arnold claimed the entire authority at Ticonderoga, after the departure of Allen, and difficulties arose between him and Hinman. A committee sent from the Congress of Massachusetts to inquire into the matter, decided that the command belonged to Hinman. Arnold swore he would not be second, disbanded his men, threw up his commission, and hurried to Cambridge.

Congress was, at first, opposed to the invasion of Canada, and even thought of dismantling the forts on Lake Champlain. Recent intelligence that the authorities of that province were making preparations to recapture the forts and to regain the command of the lake induced them to determine upon its invasion in self-defense. Schuyler learned that seven hundred of the king’s troops were in Canada; that Guy Johnson, with three hundred tenants and Indians, was at Montreal; that St. John’s was fortified and war vessels were building there, and almost ready to pass by the Sorel into the lake. Yet he was encouraged by rumors that some of the inhabitants were disaffected, and might be induced to join against the mother country; if so, the British would be deprived of a valuable recruiting station. Two expeditions against Canada were determined upon, one by way of Lake Champlain, the other by the rivers Kennebec and Chaudiere. The former under Schuyler; the latter was intrusted to Arnold, who was in the camp chafed and disappointed, but ready for any daring enterprise that promised distinction.

Operations were to commence by way of the lake, where were assembled the New York troops, and some from New England. Schuyler was ably seconded by Brigadier-general Richard Montgomery. Montgomery was a native of Ireland; had, when a youth, been the companion of Wolfe in the French war. He resigned the British service, and remaining in America, settled in New York, where he married. A man of education and refinement, his generous sentiments led him to espouse ardently the cause of popular rights.

General Schuyler passed from Ticonderoga down the lake and took possession of the Isle aux Noix, in the Sorel river. This position commanded the entrance into Lake Champlain. He then made an attempt on St. John’s, but finding it more strongly garrisoned than had been represented, he retired to the Isle aux Noix, with the intention of fortifying that important post, but severe sickness compelled him to return to Albany. The command devolved upon Montgomery. Schuyler was soon able to send him supplies and ammunition, and also reinforcements under General Wooster.

Ethan Allen, as usual, without orders, went on one of his rash expeditions. With only eighty-three men, he attempted to take Montreal, was overpowered and taken prisoner with his men. He himself was sent in irons to England to be tried as a rebel. Here closed the connection of this daring leader of the Green Mountain Boys with the war of the revolution. He was not tried, but liberated; then returned home, but from some dissatisfaction took no further part in the struggle.

Montgomery sent a detachment which took Fort Chambly, a few miles further down the river, thus placing troops between St. John’s and Canada. Sir Guy Carleton, the governor of that province, made exertions, but without success, to raise a force for the relief of St. John’s. But when on his way he was repulsed at the passage of the St. Lawrence by Colonel Seth Warner; another party going up the Sorel on the same errand was also driven back. The garrison at St. John’s presently surrendered, and immediately the energetic Montgomery pushed on to Montreal, which submitted at the first summons, while Carleton with a few followers fled down the river to Quebec. This was a very seasonable capture for the Americans, as it supplied them with woolen clothes, of which necessaries they were in great need.

Montgomery made great exertions in the midst of discouragements, arising from insubordination, desertions, and the lateness of the season, to push on and join Arnold before Quebec. Two months before this time that leader had left the camp before Boston with eleven hundred men, among whom were three companies of riflemen, under Morgan, to pass up the Kennebec, and thence across the wilderness to Quebec, there to unite with the force from New York. Aaron Burr, then a youth of twenty, accompanied this expedition as a volunteer. It was a perilous undertaking. The journey was one of intense suffering and incessant toil. Six weeks they spent in dragging their boats up the river, and carrying the baggage around rapids; they cut their way through thickets and briars, forded streams, climbed mountains, breasted storms, and were so much in want of food that they devoured their dogs, and even their moccasins. Their number was reduced to about six hundred effective men; one entire division had returned home with the sick and disabled. In a forlorn condition the remainder suddenly appeared at Point Levi, opposite Quebec. The inhabitants were astonished at the apparition, and could Arnold have crossed immediately, he might have taken the town; but was unable to do so for want of boats. In a few days came Carleton from Montreal;—he put the town in a state of defense, and increased his force to twelve hundred men by enlisting traders, sailors, and others.

Although two armed vessels were on the watch, Arnold managed to cross the St. Lawrence, clambered up the Heights of Abraham by the same rugged path that Wolfe had used, and boldly challenged the garrison to battle. The contest was declined. It was useless for him to attempt to besiege the town without cannon, go he moved twenty miles up the river, where he met Montgomery. The toilsome march through the wilderness nearly stripped Arnold’s men of their clothes; the woolen’s obtained at Montreal were to them also an acceptable protection against the rigors of a Canada winter.

Their united force amounted to only nine hundred men. With these, Montgomery, who assumed the command, advanced to Quebec. The flag he sent to demand a surrender was fired upon. A battery must be built; the ordinary material was not at hand, but ingenuity supplied its place. Gabions were filled with snow and ice, over which water was poured, and a Canada winter soon rendered them solid, but no ingenuity could render the ice otherwise than brittle—every shot from the town shattered it to pieces. It was now found that their cannon were too small. They could not batter the walls, and it was fruitless to attempt to scale them. Some other plan must be adopted.

It was determined to make a sudden attack on the lower town. Montgomery, with one division, was to advance upon the south side, while Arnold was to make an attempt upon the north. At the same time feint movements were to be made against the upper town, and signal rockets fired from the different points to distract and divert the attention of the enemy. On the thirty-first of December a blinding snow-storm favored their enterprise. At two o’clock on the morning of that day they were on the march. The feint that was to cover the movement of Montgomery was successful. Undiscovered he descended from the Heights of Abraham, passing safely around Cape Diamond to the defile that led to the town. The pass, at all time difficult, was not obstructed by ice and drifting snow. It was defended by barriers guarded by Canadian militia. Taken by surprise, they fled from the picket. Montgomery passed the first barrier unopposed. As he stepped beyond it, sanguine and exultant with hope, he exclaimed: "Push on, my brave boys; Quebec is ours!" Just then a single gun loaded with grape-shot was fired from a battery; he fell, and by his side his aids and many others who had answered to his cheering call. The soldiers, disheartened at the fall of their brave leader, were willing to abandon the town, under the lead of Quartermaster Campbell, leaving the bodies of the slain Montgomery, Cheeseman, and MacPherson where they fell.

By some neglect, no feint movement was made to cover the march of Arnold. He was harassed by a flanking fire as he pushed on to the entrance of the town. His leg being shattered by a ball, he was unable to lead his men against the battery. Morgan assumed the command, and with his riflemen stormed it and captured the men. At daylight he reached the second battery, which was also carried; but now the forces of the British were concentrated at this point. Morgan’s party made a brave resistance, but were overpowered by numbers and compelled to surrender. He himself was the last to submit. When called upon by the British soldiers to deliver up his sword, he refused, planted himself against a wall, and defied them to take it. They threatened to shoot him; his men expostulated. At length he saw a man—a priest he knew him to be from his dress; to him he gave it, saying: "I will give my sword to you, but not a scoundrel of those cowards shall take it out of my hands." The bravery of Morgan and his men was appreciated by Carleton; as prisoners, they were treated with special kindness.

Arnold now retired about three miles up the river,—and there in a camp whose ramparts were formed of frozen snow and ice, he blockaded Quebec through the winter. Here we leave him for the present.

Montgomery was at first buried at Quebec. When nearly half a century had passed away, New York remembered her adopted son. She transferred his remains to her metropolis, and with appropriate honors reinterred them in St. Paul’s church yard.