General Thomas Gage, however, would not be the commander who determined the time and place of that action. Rather, at six in the evening up to twelve hundred rebels had assembled on Cambridge Common four miles to the west 'with one day's provisions and Blanket, ready to March somewhere but we knew not where.' Accompanied by a Massachusetts artillery regiment , commanded by Captain Thomas Gridley, made up of forty-nine men and two field pieces, they comprised three Massachusetts militia regiments, one of which was commanded by Colonel William Prescott. There were two hundred men from Colonel Israel Putnam's Connecticut regiment, making up a fatigue party tending wagons loaded with fascines and gabions (the latter were dirt-filled wicker baskets meant to absorb musket shot and cannon balls), entrenching tools and some empty barrels. Putnam was assisted by an able youngish militia captain, also from Connecticut, named Thomas Knowlton.
At Harvard College, now turned into a barracks for the rebels, its elderly President had delivered a lengthy sermon and bestowed blessings on the American enterprise.The army marched from Cambridge to the beat of drums, two sergeants with dark lanterns (lanterns enclosed on all sides except the rear) led Gridley and Prescott to the road running eastward which connected to the northward road to Bunker Hill. As the columns approached Charlestown Neck, the drum-taps ceased. There, the slow-moving wagons under the care of Thomas Knowlton, and probably Israel Putnam, reached them, piled high with barrels, gabions, fascines and entrenching tools, groaning and creaking their way past Prescott in his wide coat of military blue, 'lapped and faced', a three-cornered hat perched on his head. Behind them were the two hundred Connecticut men who now joined this motley army. An observer might have thought it an odd procession; old men carrying muskets from the time of Queen Anne, seventy years past, younger men with Spanish fusees and 'old French pieces' left to them by their fathers, and a few swords rough-hewn by local blacksmiths. There were few bayonets. Eleven barrels of powder was all there was to supply them all and last out against any concerted British attack. They crossed in silence onto the peninsula and marched on to Bunker Hill.5
Bunker Hill, the highest hill on the Charlestown Peninsula and furthest from Boston, which would be almost impregnable if properly fortified, was where Prescott and Gridley wanted to throw up 'some works on the north and south ends ...' before beginning work on the lower Breed's Hill, which Israel Putnam favoured, since a small cannon placed on that hill would threaten Boston and the Royal Navy in its harbour. It would certainly provoke an immediate attack by General Gage, as Putnam intended. After much time-wasting, Putnam prevailed. Breed's Hill was finally chosen as the place to make a stand.6
The digging was done by several hundred men, farmers inured to heavy labour, under the light of dark lanterns along the lines that Gridley had laid out by midnight. The redoubt was six feet high and eight rods (1 rod = c. 5 metres) square, strongest on the side facing Charlestown where a redan ( a v-shaped earthwork) projected outwards pointing at the village. To the north, facing Bunker Hill was an open entrance for ease of retreat. A small ditch 'was dug at [its] base' but would be 'in a rude or imperfect state' when the fighting began. Nobody expected to hold this place. The men 'worked undiscovered until about four in the morning' piling up the redoubt in the soft dry earth, but that they were undiscovered was more a matter of good luck, that good fortune that oft determines the course of a battle. Across the water in Boston sentries heard the scrabbling of shovels and picks on the hill 'without making report of it.' When the HMS Lively, (20 nine-pounders), moored in the Charles River at the Charlestown ferry way, discovered the redoubt at dawn and the first cannon-balls fell on the fort, these same sentries discussed over breakfast how they had heard noises in the night but thought nothing of them.Earlier that night General Sir Henry Clinton, who had come over on the Cerebus with Howe and Burgoyne, thought he too saw shapes across the water, but his report to Gage in the dead of night was dismissed. Clinton claimed Howe supported his urging of an immediate attack. 'The first knowledge the General [Gage] had of it was by hearing one of the ships firing at the workmen, and going to see what occasioned the firing,' Howe later insisted.7
That same pounding cannon from the Lively that caused the generals to cover their backs woke the town, shaking the white A-frame houses, and woke Ensign Francis Grose of the 52nd. Light Infantry, and Captain Robert Ross and Second Lieutenant David Collins of the First Battalion Marines with a start out of their tents in the breaking dawn on Boston Common.
At Harvard College, now turned into a barracks for the rebels, its elderly President had delivered a lengthy sermon and bestowed blessings on the American enterprise.The army marched from Cambridge to the beat of drums, two sergeants with dark lanterns (lanterns enclosed on all sides except the rear) led Gridley and Prescott to the road running eastward which connected to the northward road to Bunker Hill. As the columns approached Charlestown Neck, the drum-taps ceased. There, the slow-moving wagons under the care of Thomas Knowlton, and probably Israel Putnam, reached them, piled high with barrels, gabions, fascines and entrenching tools, groaning and creaking their way past Prescott in his wide coat of military blue, 'lapped and faced', a three-cornered hat perched on his head. Behind them were the two hundred Connecticut men who now joined this motley army. An observer might have thought it an odd procession; old men carrying muskets from the time of Queen Anne, seventy years past, younger men with Spanish fusees and 'old French pieces' left to them by their fathers, and a few swords rough-hewn by local blacksmiths. There were few bayonets. Eleven barrels of powder was all there was to supply them all and last out against any concerted British attack. They crossed in silence onto the peninsula and marched on to Bunker Hill.5
Bunker Hill, the highest hill on the Charlestown Peninsula and furthest from Boston, which would be almost impregnable if properly fortified, was where Prescott and Gridley wanted to throw up 'some works on the north and south ends ...' before beginning work on the lower Breed's Hill, which Israel Putnam favoured, since a small cannon placed on that hill would threaten Boston and the Royal Navy in its harbour. It would certainly provoke an immediate attack by General Gage, as Putnam intended. After much time-wasting, Putnam prevailed. Breed's Hill was finally chosen as the place to make a stand.6
The digging was done by several hundred men, farmers inured to heavy labour, under the light of dark lanterns along the lines that Gridley had laid out by midnight. The redoubt was six feet high and eight rods (1 rod = c. 5 metres) square, strongest on the side facing Charlestown where a redan ( a v-shaped earthwork) projected outwards pointing at the village. To the north, facing Bunker Hill was an open entrance for ease of retreat. A small ditch 'was dug at [its] base' but would be 'in a rude or imperfect state' when the fighting began. Nobody expected to hold this place. The men 'worked undiscovered until about four in the morning' piling up the redoubt in the soft dry earth, but that they were undiscovered was more a matter of good luck, that good fortune that oft determines the course of a battle. Across the water in Boston sentries heard the scrabbling of shovels and picks on the hill 'without making report of it.' When the HMS Lively, (20 nine-pounders), moored in the Charles River at the Charlestown ferry way, discovered the redoubt at dawn and the first cannon-balls fell on the fort, these same sentries discussed over breakfast how they had heard noises in the night but thought nothing of them.Earlier that night General Sir Henry Clinton, who had come over on the Cerebus with Howe and Burgoyne, thought he too saw shapes across the water, but his report to Gage in the dead of night was dismissed. Clinton claimed Howe supported his urging of an immediate attack. 'The first knowledge the General [Gage] had of it was by hearing one of the ships firing at the workmen, and going to see what occasioned the firing,' Howe later insisted.7
That same pounding cannon from the Lively that caused the generals to cover their backs woke the town, shaking the white A-frame houses, and woke Ensign Francis Grose of the 52nd. Light Infantry, and Captain Robert Ross and Second Lieutenant David Collins of the First Battalion Marines with a start out of their tents in the breaking dawn on Boston Common.
No comments:
Post a Comment