Prescott as like a continuous stream of fire; and it produced a terrible effect on the British. Again they wavered and broke. Their officers exposed themselves with reckless daring, and even struck the soldiers to drive them on; but they could no longer be got forward. The bottom of the hill was once more sought in headlong flight; yet the wall of the redoubt had been very nearly gained. Some of the dead and dying lay within a few yards of it; others a little farther off on the now crimsoned slope.

A second advance was also made against the flank by Howe's division. The Grenadiers and Light Infantry marched close up to the fence, but were unable to carry it. Some of the companies, it is said, lost three-fourths, some even as many as nine-tenths, of their numbers, as soon as they presented themselves. In several instances, not more than three or four men were left in a company, so terrible was the fire. The dead, as Colonel Stark testified, lay as thick as sheep within a fold. So many of the English officers were killed, that for awhile Howe was left nearly alone; yet the struggle was still maintained. The guns of the ships in harbour, and the artillery of the batteries planted on the opposite shore, continued to ply with vigour; but towards the end of the action the field-pieces were reduced to silence for want of proper ammunition. Some ball sent over from Boston during the course of the battle proved to be too large for the calibre of the guns; and the infantry were thus left to do their work without the aid which field artillery would have afforded them. On the other hand, the ammunition of the Americans also was very nearly exhausted after the defeat of the second attack. The Committee of Safety insisted that every shot ought to kill a man, and that a lavish supply of powder would only tempt the men to neglect accuracy of aim, and thus throw away their fire. They had therefore omitted to furnish fresh supplies, and, although there had been no waste, the stock was now almost at an end. The colonial forces had but few bayonets among them, and the chances of a third assault looked unpromising for the Americans. The powder in some artillerycartridges was distributed, and strict injunctions were given not to waste a grain of it. hoped that, if the English could be repulsed a third time, their discomfiture would be final and complète; but no such fortune was in store. Howe was resolved not to be beaten, and he made a fresh disposition of his forces, so as to deliver a simultaneous attack on three sides of the American position. He was enabled to do this by an unexpected arrival of reinforcements. Clinton, having

Prescott

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observed from Copp's Hill the very critical posture of affairs, had, on his own authority alone, started for the scene of action at the head of two battalions, including a body of marines. The whole force was now divided between the south, the east, and the north sides of the entrenchment; and the three divisions, disencumbered of their knapsacks, moved forward more swiftly to the supreme effort.

But

The insurgents had retired to the inner part of the fort, the outer lines being raked by the batteries. Once again they waited with calm self-possession the near approach of the enemy; then, as before, a terrific fire leaped forth with that concentration and regularity which made the Americans of those days the best marksmen in the world, and which they derived from their habits of openair sport, and from the practice of shooting at marks. But this time, after a momentary pause, the British, instead of giving way, sprang forward, without any return volley, to the outer wall. The American fire grew less and less, and presently almost ceased. On the southern side of the redoubt, the front rank of the assailing force scaled the parapet with a rush. Many were shot down; amongst them, Major Pitcairn, the officer associated with Lexington, who fell mortally wounded. the regulars, now that they had surmounted the breast work, rushed on with an impetuosity which nothing could check. Driven to desperation, and devoid of ammunition, the colonists clubbed their muskets, and struck wildly at the foe, who steadily pressed on, and carried the redoubt at the point of the bayonet. At nearly four o'clock, the Americans fled from the position they had so long and gallantly defended, and, in disorderly masses, made in the direction of Bunker's Hill. "Nothing," wrote a young officer of marines, who was present on the occasion, in a letter to his brother, "could be more shocking than the carnage that followed the storming of this work. We tumbled over the dead to get at the living, who were crowding out of the gorge of the redoubt in order to form under the defences which they had prepared to cover their retreat." Prescott was the last to leave the fort; but the example of his daring was insufficient to amend the fortunes of the day. Though his coat and waistcoat were rent with bayonet-thrusts, which he parried with his sword, he got off unhurt. The British had burst in at the north-eastern angle of the fort, as well as at the south; and for a few minutes the redoubt was a mob of raging combatants, wildly intermingled. But the provincials after a time fought their way out, and escaped under a cloud of dust which their trampling feet beat up from the parched and pulverised soil. Their re

treat was further aided by the obstinacy with which the Connecticut and New Hampshire companies, under Knowlton and Stark, held the outlying defence in the direction of the Mystic. As soon as the main body had left Breed's Hill, these auxiliaries also retired. Utterly worn out by the events of the day-by their two unsuccessful attempts to carry the enemy's entrenchments, and their final success-the English troops could do no more than make a show of pursuit; but the fugitives suffered severely, in passing Charleston Neck, from the cross-fire of two floating batteries, and of the Gloucester man-of-war. Of six pieces of artillery which they possessed, the insurgents were not able to carry off more than one. Their personal loss, however, was but slight, considering the length and vehemence of the contest. It is set down by American writers at a hundred and forty-five killed and missing, and three hundred and four wounded. Among the killed was Joseph Warren, one of the most active and distinguished of the patriots of that time. He was among the last in the trenches, and fell as the retreat began; but his name is cherished in grateful memory by his countrymen, as that of a man who gave all his varied faculties, and finally life itself, to the service of his native land, and to the cause which he believed to be just.*

:

The cost of the battle on the side of the English was very serious. More than a third of the forces engaged were slain or disabled. The killed were above two hundred and twenty in number; the wounded, more than eight hundred and twenty. Gage, in his report of the event to Lord Dartmouth, made some striking observations, that must have opened the eyes of English statesmen to the serious nature of the task they had undertaken. He wrote "The success, which was very necessary in our present condition, cost us dear. The number of killed and wounded is greater than our forces can afford to lose. We have lost some extremely good officers. The trials we have had show the rebels are not the despicable rabble too many have supposed them to be, and I find it owing to a military spirit encouraged among them for a few years past, joined with uncommon zeal and enthusiasm. They entrench, and raise batteries; they have engineers. They have fortified all the heights and passes around this town, which it is not impossible for them to annoy. The conquest of this country is not easy; you have to cope with vast

* Bancroft's and Grahame's Histories of the United States; Earl Stanhope's History of England; Jesse's Memoirs of the Life and Reign of King George III.-Some accounts of the action are rather confused.

numbers.

In all their wars against the French,

they never showed so much conduct, attention, and perseverance, as they do now. I think it my duty to let your lordship know the true situation of affairs." Had the Government been equally wellinformed at an earlier period, they might have shown a greater inclination towards a pacific policy.

The Americans have sometimes claimed the Battle of Bunker's Hill as a victory, but certainly without justice. They have also indulged in some overstatements as to the number of the English engaged, and some understatements as to the proportions of their own army; though probably these perversions are not greater than what is frequently observable where national feeling comes very strongly into play. Attempts have been made to show that the British forces greatly outnumbered those of the colonists-that the latter were to be counted by hundreds, and the former by thousands. It is probable, however, that, by the time they had received all their reinforcements, the Americans mustered about four thousand; while it does not seem likely the Royal troops were ever above three thousand, if so many.

Another point with respect to which

some qualifications are needed, is the conduct of the American officers. That some of these behaved with unsurpassed courage, is certain; but we have the most unimpeachable testimony that there were many very serious exceptions. Washington, who joined the camp shortly afterwards, stated, in a confidential letter to the President of Congress, that complaints were made to him of the cowardice of some of the officers, but that, although there were several strong circumstances and a very general opinion against them, none were condemned, except a Captain Callender, of the artillery, who was immediately cashiered, but who, on subsequent occa sions, as a private, displayed the most desperate and persistent valour. It is added by Washington, however, that the conduct of the men generally. and of several of the officers, was admirable. The retreat seems to have been no worse than such movements commonly are; it was better than some in which disciplined troops have been concerned. The fugitives were met by Putnam on the northern side of Bunker's Hill. He had been endeavouring to collect further reinforcements, and now assumed the command of the discomfited regiments. Uniting them with a detachment of fresh troops, he encamped for the night on Prospect Hill.

Of the numerous British officers killed on that memorable day, not one was more sincerely lamented than Major Pitcairn. As he fell, his son, Lieutenant Pitcairn, was standing by his side. Their eyes met for a moment, but the wounded man,

with

a look of eager affection, expired without speaking a word." My father is killed," cried the youth, as he knelt down by the side of the body; "I have lost my father!" The soldiers slackened fire for more than a minute. "We have all lost a father," exclaimed many of them.* Such are the incidents which in some degree redeem the moral corruption and physical horror of war. It is not likely that a man so much beloved by his own soldiers could have behaved at Lexington with the brutality attributed to him by some American writers.

The English forces entrenched themselves, on the night of June 17th, at the summit of Breed's Hill, lying down on the ground they had conquered, and which had been occupied in the morning by their enemies. They had achieved a victory, but it was one of a very barren nature. The peninsula of Charleston was, indeed, recovered by the Royalists; but the colonial forces were strongly posted beyond, and maintained an effective blockade. Had this success been followed up with vigour and at once, it might have resulted in a scattering of the insurgents before they had time to organise themselves. But a strange apathy possessed the counsels of British

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officers, and the golden opportunity was allowed to slip by. Before the affair of Bunker's Hill, the English soldiers had complained that they were kept on Boston Neck, twisting their pig-tails and powdering their hair, while the Americans were gathering in their front and on their flanks like clouds. The same indolence prevailed after the battle, and led to most unfortunate results. The Americans gained more from Bunker's Hill than their opponents. They acquired self-confidence and self-reliance. They convinced their adversaries that they could fight; and to the nations of Europe they presented the spectacle of an united people, resolved to establish their independence at whatever cost of bloodshed. Franklin, on hearing of the event, wrote to his friends in England that Great Britain had lost her colonies for ever. Washington formed sanguine anticipations from the action; and Artemas Ward, in a general order, confidently prophesied that America would be victorious in the great struggle, and triumph over the enemies of freedom. But, before the accomplishment of the end proposed, a long and miserable path had to be traversed, thick with the graves of many virtuous men, and rife with evil memories.

Ar the very time that the forces of New England were withstanding British troops in the vicinity of Boston, the Continental Congress was engaged in nominating four Major-Generals to act under Wash

gton in command of the regiments that were to be raised by the whole of the provinces. The first of these was Artemas Ward, who, considering his age, infirmities, and very moderate capacity, must have been appointed more out of compliment than any other feeling. The second was Charles Lee, an officer in the Royal army, who had quitted England in consequence of being denied preferment on

Moore's Diary of the American Revolution.

account of certain writings of his which had given offence to the military authorities. He had seen active service, not only in America, but in Portugal, Poland, and Turkey. Possessed of abilities and knowledge, he was nevertheless an unfortunate selection on the part of the patriots, for, while professing great enthusiasm for the cause of liberty, he appears to have cherished a secret contempt for the Americans, and to have been influenced less by regard for his adopted country than by pique against those by whom he had been injured in his native land. Lee was a man of ambitious desires and jealous disposition, gloomy and irritable, and too prone to aristocratic and despotic ideas in

politics to work harmoniously with the democratic institutions then rapidly taking shape in America. In religion, he was a free-thinker, and therefore incapable of sympathy with the several forms of religious fervour with which the colonies still abounded. Self-interest was a leading principle in his nature; and before he would consent to accept the post which was offered him (his aspirations pointing to the chief command), he exacted a promise of indemnity for renouncing his half-pay.

re

The third Major-General was Philip Schuyler, of New York-a man of great consideration in that province, of high character, and of unquestionable patriotism, yet in some spects unsuited to military command. Israel Putnam, of Connecticut, was the fourth of these general officers. His calling was that of a tavernkeeper, and, although he had led an adventurous life as a Ranger, and was a man of courage, he was too ignorant and headstrong to assume anything like an important. part. Another of the commanders was Horatio Gates, a godson of Horace Walpole, who was made an Adjutant-general with the rank of Brigadier. He, like Lee, had served in the English army, and possessed the advantages of technical knowledge. He had been one of Braddock's officers, and was wounded in the unfortunate expedition

before Boston, declined to accept his commission; the others undertook the responsibilities with which they were invested. It is worthy of remark that, among the officers about to contend with the power of Great Britain, two were Englishmen-Lee and Gates- while Montgomery was a native of the north of Ireland. The last-named, like the other two, had served under the Royal standards, and could boast high qualities as a soldier.

Washington quitted Philadelphia on the 23rd of June, 1775; on the afternoon of the 25th, which was Sunday, he was escorted into New York with a good deal of military parade, and in the midst of

a large concourse of people. Late in the evening of the same day, Tryon, the newlyappointed Royal Governor, landed from the harbour, and was received with a general coldness and indifference. Next day, the Provincial Congress of New York discussed the state of affairs. The delegates, in an address to Washington, expressed their strong desire for an accommodation with the mother country, and trusted that the General-in-Chief would cheerfully return to his position as a private citizen as soon as matters had been satisfactorily settled. Speaking for himself and his companionsin-arms, Washington replied that they had not laid aside the citizen in assuming the soldier, but that, nevertheless, the sword having been drawn, all thoughts of private life must be postponed until the establishment of American liberty on firm and solid foundations. The New York Congress, however, was not indisposed to make a strong effort in the direction of peace. The members of that body produced a plan of accommodation, in which, while demanding the repeal of oppressive Acts of Parliament, the undisturbed exercise by the colonies of the powers of internal legislation and taxation, and the free enjoyment of the rights of conscience, they concedei to Great Britain the power to regulate the trade of the whole Empire, and promised to aid in the general defence, on proper requisitions being made. This plan was transmitted to the delegates who represented New York in the Continental Congress. and they were instructed to use every effort to com

against Fort Duquesne; had afterwards acted under Monckton at the siege of Martinique, and had more recently been stationed in Nova Scotia. His name became conspicuous in the War of Independence, and it seemed at one time as if he might be a rival to Washington. The eight Brigadiers whom Congress elected about the same time were (excluding Gates, as not being strictly of that category) Seth Pomroy, of Massachusetts; Richard Montgomery, of New York; David Wooster, of Connecticut; William Heath, of Massachusetts; Joseph Spencer, of Connecticut; John Thomas, of Massachusetts; John Sullivan, of New Hampshire; and Nathaniel Greene, of Rhode Island: all, with one exception, men of New England birth, and, for the most part, ill-fitted for the duties with which they were charged. Pomroy, perceiving that his capacity was doubted in the camp