After a day of diligent preparation, the artillery opened on the night of March 3/4 at 9 P.M. from Cobble Hill, Lechmere Point and Lamb’s Dam. Bombardment did no damage except to the Americans’ pride; on the third shot the brass “Congress” split as shamelessly as the iron mortars had. The British fire was less bad than on the previous night, but it ceased when that of the Americans ended early March 4.
Washington now had come to the day on which occupation of Dorchester Heights was to begin. The auguries were contradictory. “Long Faces,” as the militia were called, continued to put in their appearance, but word came about ten o’clock that British troops were embarking in boats opposite Lechmere Point. Immediately the alarm was sounded, and the American regiments in that district were put under arms and hurried to their posts. Two hours of uncertainty passed. Then Washington heard that the British had given up whatever design they had.
From that time until nightfall everything outwardly was quiet. Around Roxbury teams were assembled, fascines loaded and the men were made ready to march. The entrenching tools were put into carts and barrels filled with stone and sand were lifted into the stoutest vehicles. These barrels were to be rolled down the hills in order to bowl over the Redcoats who delivered the assault. The surgeons met with the Medical Director and received their assignments, hospitals were cleared for the arrival of the wounded, and so with many other details as the clock ticked the crowded minutes. At dusk the bombardment began. The three thousand troops that Thomas had chosen started from Roxbury for the hills on Dorchester Peninsula. American fire now was almost ten times as fast as it had been either of the two previous nights. British artillerists answered as if they knew that this time something serious impended.
The moon was full; the night was mild. About three hundred teams started with their fascines, chandeliers and barrels and as early as 8 P.M. were climbing the nearer hills. The infantry moved in silently; the riflemen spread themselves out along the waterfront. Men who previously had surveyed the ground saw that the dumping was at the proper places. Next was the sad business of cutting down orchards to provide abatis. Washington scarcely could have asked better performance.
Dawn came at last on March 5. Near Cambridge two regiments were mustered for an early march to Roxbury. The alert was ordered all the way around the crude arc of the American lines as far as Chelsea. On Dorchester Heights the men were surprised and proud to observe how much had been accomplished under the curtain of a single night. Six fortifications had been laid out on the higher hills and on the tableland—cover for the flank and rear against fire from the British on Boston Neck. In the first hours of day there was no sign of any assembly of British troops, no activity in the fleet to suggest that men were to be taken aboard. Washington was not deceived. He knew that flood tide would be about noon and that nothing except artillery fire could be expected until the water was high enough to permit the landing of a force on Dorchester Peninsula. Everything indicated that the “Lobsters” would come in with the tide.
The British began cannonade of the new works, then suspended it; they could not elevate their guns to reach the high parapets. With the halt of the enemy’s cannon there were signs of commotion in the town. Late in the forenoon troops could be seen embarking, with their artillery, on small boats that carried them to transports. A few of these vessels thereupon dropped down to anchorages off the Castle. By the time this was done the hours of best opportunity had been lost. The tide was past the flood. Washington’s troops meanwhile were wheeling a larger number of field pieces into their works, and they continued to pile up earth; but they could do no more than that—except to swear that when the Redcoats came they would “give it to them.” During the late afternoon the weather became colder and the wind shifted. By evening a furious storm roared in from the south with a cruelly cold wind and lashing rain. Before darkness settled it was plain that in that full gale man’s implements of wrath were feeble and futile. Washington let no powder be wet in attempted bombardment. When he awoke the next morning the storm was still roaring, but the rain slackened and, by eight o’clock, ceased. The wind remained high and was holding the transports to their anchorage. If there was to be an attack, it could not come by water until the wind dropped. Howe might sally on Boston Neck. Any such attempt must be met with vigilance and prompt fire. Four thousand men were to be held in readiness to cross the river to Boston should the Redcoats stream down the Neck. Work on the fortifications was renewed; at high water the American positions on the Peninsula were to be manned. Conditions were better hourly. Defences on the high ground of Dorchester soon would be so strong that if the British assaulted their troops would be mowed down. If they did not, Nook’s Hill could be occupied by Washington’s men. This done, American cannon would be so close to the town that the wharves of Boston would be untenable.
On the seventh Washington felt the situation sufficiently stabilized to justify dismissal of those militiamen who lived in the area and had brought with them three days’ provisions only. They had done their duty so well that Washington praised and thanked them in both General Orders and the detailed report he wrote that day to Congress. That was not all that a dispatch to the President of Congress should cover. Washington proceeded to review the need of a third major general. The senior in line of promotion was Brigadier General Thomas, who had acquitted himself admirably in Dorchester Neck. Washington of course esteemed Thomas, but, because he knew jealous eyes in Philadelphia might criticize his words, he wrote with restraint: “General Thomas is the first Brigadier, stands fair in point of reputation and is esteemed a brave and good officer.” Then he went on to recommend Col. William Thompson, for advancement to the rank of Brigadier: “. . . as far as I have had an opportunity of judging . . . a good officer and a man of courage. What I have said of these two gentlemen, I conceive to be my duty, at the same time acknowledging whatever promotions are made will be satisfactory to me.”
During those early hours of March 7 work was going briskly on. The fortifications were stronger every hour. One thing only of possible importance had occurred: The British most certainly and unmistakably were moving cannon in Boston. Could it be that they were preparing to abandon the city? There were other vague indications, also, that the Redcoats might be preparing to leave.
Now it was March 8 and just such a day as the seventh, busy but unexciting—until, about 2 P.M., a flag of truce was seen at the British advanced post on Boston Neck. Col. Ebenezer Learned, commanding on that part of the front, went out to meet a man in British uniform and three civilians. The British officer introduced himself as Maj. Henry Bassett of the Tenth Regiment. His companions were Thomas and Jonathan Amory and Peter Johonnot, who produced a letter from the Selectmen of Boston. The flag went back, and the communication was forwarded in haste to Washington.
He took it, glanced at the inscription, broke the seal and began to read:
Boston, 8 March, 1776
As his Excellency General Howe is determined to leave the town with the troops under his command, a number of the respectable inhabitants, being very anxious for its preservation and safety, have applied to General Robertson for this purpose, who at their request have communicated the same to his Excellency Genl. Howe, who has assured them that he has no intention of destroying the town, unless the troops under his command are molested during their embarkation or at their departure, by the armed forces without, which declaration he gave Genl. Robertson leave to communicate to the inhabitants; If such an opposition should take place, we have the greatest reason to expect the town will be exposed to entire destruction. As our fears are quieted with regard to Genl. Howe’s intentions, we beg we may have some assurances that so dreadful a calamity may not be brought on by any measures without. As a testimony of the truth of the above, we have signed our names to this paper, carried out by Messrs. Thomas and Jonathan Amory and Peter Johonnot, who have at the earnest entreaties of the inhabitants, through the Lt. Governor, solicited a flag of truce for this purpose.
JOHN SCOLLAY, TIMOTHY NEWELL, THOMAS MARSHALL, SAMUEL AUSTIN
If there was exultation, it was momentary, because Washington had to decide what answer he would make to a paper which appeared “under covert, unauthorized and addressed to nobody.” The largest instant question was whether Howe himself stood behind a proposal to abandon the city if he were permitted to sail away unmolested and “with the honors of war.” Those general officers unoccupied and near at hand were asked to come to Headquarters and were shown the Selectmen’s letter. Washington found his Generals distrusted any proposal for a bargain. Caution was the first law of conduct where treachery was possible. Washington should acknowledge the letter, point out that it covered no written pledge by Howe, and reserve all the rights of war. A letter for the signature of Colonel Learned was drafted to that effect.
On the morning of the ninth the Americans laid out on Nook’s Hill, in plain view of the British, the work they proposed to construct that night. They paid for their imprudence! No sooner did they start work after darkness fell than shells fell also, and precisely where the Americans were to put their fascines and raise their parapets. The undertaking was abandoned for the night. The fire of the British was the heaviest against any of the new American positions and might indicate that Howe had resolved to stay in Boston. Washington did not so interpret it. All the shot came from the narrow, near arc of British gun positions, a fact which indicated that cannon from the other redoubts had been put aboard ship. Besides, there was as much bustle as ever in the town and on the wharves. Washington concluded that the British were not ready to leave and that they repelled him because they knew he could force them to abandon the Massachusetts capital as soon as he secured artillery positions on Nook’s Hill.
Events of March 10 seemed to vindicate Washington’s judgment. A great stir was visible at the landing-places of Boston. Soon one ship after another raised sail and dropped down the harbor. This was a signal for Washington’s troops to move out from Roxbury and man their positions on Dorchester Heights, but no indications of a landing were observed. Nor was there any perceptible change on March 11. Boston yielded the same picture of preparations for general departure of army and fleet. While expectancy remained and some anxiety lingered in Washington’s mind, he was now more confident of the outcome and talked with Boston refugees concerning the occupation of the town as if he were certain of the complete departure of the British.
The waiting was exasperating. If and when Howe sailed, where would he head? Was Halifax or New York the destination of the fleet? The American General held to the belief that the objective was the mouth of the Hudson and brought his general officers together on the thirteenth to ask their judgment on the number of troops he should send to New York and the time when it would be safe to start the movement. The advice of his council was that he could begin the transfer immediately but that he ought not to dispatch any men besides the rifle companies and one brigade until the British actually had left Boston. Plans were made accordingly.
To reduce risk of having the mouth of the Hudson virtually undefended when the British arrived, Washington appealed to Governor Trumbull to send two thousand men to New York. From Jersey one thousand were to be sought. It was better to prevent a lodgment at New York than to have the task of ousting an adversary already entrenched there.
March 15 was the eighth day after the receipt of the Selectmen’s announcement of the impending departure of Howe—and the British still held Boston. The wind was favorable for the departure of the British but they loitered still. Then before the fifteenth ended, the wind shifted so adversely that the King’s men could not leave if they would. Washington felt that he had nothing further to gain by delaying longer the fortification of Nook’s Hill. Once the British saw his battery planted there, they must leave Boston or take the risks of a short-range bombardment. Up the hill, then, the men were ordered to go on the night of March 16/17. British artillery challenged the workers as it had on the ninth, but no American had been hurt when, at daylight, the workers could see the fruits of their labor and, at a distance, the effect on their adversary. The wind was from the quarter favorable for departure; the wharves were thronged with men in uniform. Troops could be seen to enter boats and start in great numbers for the vessels that were riding comfortably at anchor below the Castle. Word came that troops in large number were marching away from Bunker Hill.
Had all the British left the town? For many minutes there was doubt. Then, from in front of the outposts on Boston Neck, sentinels heard the shouts of American boys. The British were all gone, the lads cried; Selectmen were on their way to Roxbury. Soon, down the Neck came Austin, Scollay, Marshall and others, who were hurried to General Ward’s quarters. When their tale was told, Ward gave his orders: Colonel Learned was to select five hundred men who had experienced smallpox and with this force and two companies of artillery was to enter Boston.
Washington showed no elation over an event he long had anticipated. He ordered Sullivan to occupy Charlestown while Putnam collected men who could enter Boston without fear of smallpox. It was done with enthusiasm and alacrity. Ward’s force of five hundred proceeded to the British outpost and then to the advanced line, where Colonel Learned ceremoniously unbarred and opened the gates on the main road. Nowhere did they encounter British soldiers, but there was abundant work for “Old Put” in locating and salvaging the public property, cannon, small arms and weapons the British left behind.
Washington did not indulge himself in a triumphant entry. He had too much to do and had to ask himself once again a question to which he gave the same convinced answer: Howe’s objective certainly was southward, Washington thought, and most probably was New York. The troops that had been delayed in their departure for the mouth of the Hudson could now be dispatched. Such was the end of the most encouraging day Washington had spent after he had assumed command at Cambridge eight and a half months previously. He had forced the Redcoats to evacuate Boston almost without loss of American life. There was one regret, one doubt only: The British fleet had not actually gone to sea. Vessels that had sailed from Boston prior to the seventeenth were in Nantasket Road; the transports that had left Boston on St. Patrick’s Day were riding between the Castle and the Light House.
They were close, dangerously close, and they still were there the next morning, March 18. As Washington could do nothing against the fleet, he took time to visit Boston and view for himself the damage that had been wrought. Several of the churches had been stripped of their pews and turned into riding schools; numerous old wooden buildings had been torn down for firewood; the stores around the wharves had been looted of groceries which had been dumped in the filthy streets. Strangely, none of the possessions of John Hancock had been disturbed. “The town,” Washington wrote, “although it has suffered greatly, is not in so bad a state as I expected to find it.” Washington was much impressed by the fortifications. Boston, he subsequently wrote, was “amazingly strong . . . almost impregnable, every avenue fortified.” On Boston Neck, where the defences were much stronger and better built than elsewhere, the works were complete and of a sort to evoke the admiring praise of the captors. The heavy cannon had been spiked but so carelessly that some were quickly cleared again. Miscellaneous ordnance stores, almost the whole of the British medical supplies, a stock of three thousand blankets and much equipment were found on the wharves.
Washington was so suspicious because of the enemy’s continued presence in Nantasket Road that he ordered immediately the construction of a strong work on Fort Hill, a dominant position. As the parapet rose fast, while the enemy remained close at hand, Washington’s state of mind was one of disappointment and misgiving. On the night of March 19/20 the British demolished the defences at the Castle and blew up buildings that could not readily be burned. The enemy made some efforts, also, to block the channels. If, as seems logical, these were the acts of a commander who was abandoning Boston, why did he not proceed to Halifax, as his men had told Boston people he intended t
o do; and if Howe was going, instead, to New York or Long Island, as Washington still believed, what deterred him from gaining the advantage of early arrival? Washington started Heath and a brigade of foot for New York on the twentieth; but more men than this he did not think he ought to detach until he could ascertain what the British intended. If ever they started for New York—Washington saw clearly his duty. New York, he told Governor Cooke, who feared for the safety of Rhode Island, “secures the free and only communication between the Northern and Southern Colonies, which will be entirely cut off by their possessing it, and give them the command of Hudson’s River and an easy pass into Canada. . . .” This made it “absolutely and indispensably necessary for the whole of this army, which is but inconsiderable . . . to be marched from hence for defence with all possible expedition.” Barring direct invasion, no part of the Army could be detached to Rhode Island, and no more troops would be left in Boston than were required to give the town protection against surprise attack.
The British should go to New York if their strategy was intelligent: why did they linger, and why, in particular, when the wind was favorable? Six additional American Regiments were made ready for the road. Days dragged anxiously on. On the twenty-seventh, a day when the waters of Massachusetts Bay were running high, and a fair wind with the promise of spring in its breath was blowing steadily, Washington had much to do. All business had been transacted, dinner had been eaten, the end of the day was at hand, the twenty-fifth day after the opening gun on Dorchester Heights—when a messenger drew rein at Headquarters. He brought news, the news: That morning at eleven, the flagship Fowey had hoisted signal; at 3 P.M., the fleet had made sail from Nantasket. Now the whole of it, except for three or four vessels, was standing out to sea.
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