The attack was triple, but the artillery fire, on which Howe had counted, was at first valueless, because for the six-pounders had been sent over mostly nine-pound shot, thanks to the chief of artillery, who was afterward supposed to be making love to the schoolmaster's daughter. The cannon, further, got into the marshy ground, and could not find an effective position. So the real assault was first delivered by the troops alone, one detachment marching against the redoubt, and one against the rail fence.
The troops moved with great confidence. According to the habit of the time, they were completely equipped as for an expedition, with blankets and three-days' rations. It has been computed that each soldier carried about a hundred and twenty pounds.[97] They were, therefore, greatly burdened at best; and on so hot a day, with the grass to their knees, and many fences to cross, their task was the worse. But they advanced with great composure, and apparently forgetting the 19th of April they were deployed in open order, as if to present each marksman with a separate target. Howe led those who marched at the rail fence, and General Pigot led the assault upon the redoubt. Both bodies of the regulars advanced with occasional ineffective volleys.
At first, says tradition, a few Americans fired when the troops came in range, but Prescott and his officers, leaping upon the parapet of the redoubt, kicked up the muzzles of the guns. If the men would but obey him, Prescott told them, not a British soldier would get within the redoubt. At the rail fence the men were likewise prevented from firing, Putnam threatening to cut down any who disobeyed. They were ordered not to shoot until the regulars passed a stake which Stark set up for a mark. Many familiar sayings were passed among the provincials: "Wait till you see the whites of their eyes! Aim at the crossing of the belts! Pick out the handsome coats!"
As if to add to the impressiveness of the scene, it was about this time that Charlestown, set on fire a little while before, that it should not give cover to the Americans, and that the smoke should confuse the rebels, burst into general conflagration. The town had been for weeks almost deserted, in dread of this fate; now at the command of Howe red-hot shot were thrown in among the houses, and marines landed from the ships and fired the wharves and waterside buildings. The act was, however, a wanton one, for no advantage was gained or lost to either side by the fire.[98]
At last the troops were near enough. They had themselves been firing for some time, volleying as they advanced, but firing too high. Now, as they reached a line some eight or ten rods from the redoubt, Prescott gave the word to fire, and to continue firing. The discharge from the redoubt was close, deadly, and incessant, while at the rail fence the reception of the British was even more fatal. For a few minutes the regulars held their ground, returning the fire as best they might, yet decimated by the American bullets, and seeing their officers falling all about them. There was no hope to advance, and sullenly they withdrew.
If ever there was a moment that marked the fate of our nation, it was that one. It forecast Bennington, Saratoga, and Yorktown, Gettysburg and the Wilderness. Well might the provincials exult as they saw the retreat of the regulars; and well might Washington exclaim, when he learned that the farmers had driven the British, "Then the liberties of the country are safe!"[99]
But the battle was not yet won. The slaughter among the officers was frightful, yet the leaders were uninjured. Howe gave the order, the troops formed again, and again advanced to the attack. The Americans admired them as they approached, preserving unbroken order, and stepping over the bodies of the slain as if they had been logs of wood. This time the troops were allowed to come nearer yet, but when the provincials fired at the word the carnage was greater than before. In the smoke the officers were seen urging their men, striking them with their sword hilts, and even pricking them with the points. But it was in vain. The officers themselves were shot down in unheard-of proportion, and at the rail fence those who survived out of full companies of thirty-nine were in some cases only three, or four, or five. Nothing could be done under such a fire. Leaving their dead within a few yards of the American lines, for a second time the British retreated.
At last Howe had learned his lesson. While his officers, for the sake of the men, implored him to find some other way to conquer the redoubt, he determined on a third assault. He ordered that the knapsacks be left behind, and that the troops be formed in column. In the work of rallying the disheartened men he was ably helped by Clinton, who, observing a detachment in disorder near their boats, impetuously hurried across the river, reformed their ranks, and put himself at their head. Some four hundred marines came over as reinforcements; according to Lieutenant Barker, the 47th regiment came also. Howe disposed his forces in three columns, to attack the three faces of the redoubt.
Between the first and second assaults there had been less than half an hour's interval. This time the wait was longer, and the Americans ineffectually sought to take advantage of it. Messengers were again sent to Ward; the general, learning at last that so many of the British forces were occupied in the battle that Cambridge was safe from an attack, gave orders that more regiments should go to Prescott's assistance. To save the day there was yet time, but of the regiments thus ordered, few companies reached the ground, and fewer still took part in the action. And in this the weakness of the American organization was sadly evident. From first to last Ward seems to have sent to Bunker Hill sufficient force to have won the battle; but as he never left his house he could take no pains to make sure that his orders were obeyed. As a matter of fact, of the regiments despatched, one went to Lechmere's Point, where it must have secured an excellent view of the battle, but was completely useless. Being next ordered "to the hill," it was conducted by its colonel, James Scammans, to Cobble Hill; thence he sent to Bunker Hill to learn if he was wanted. Receiving a vigorous reply from Putnam, Scammans at last marched his men to Bunker Hill, reaching the top in time to witness the end of the battle. In similar fashion young Major Gridley of the artillery battalion, whom "parental partiality" had given too much responsibility, took post at a distance, and fired at the shipping. Both Scammans and Gridley were later court-martialled. Other officers lost their way, or, like Colonel Mansfield, who stayed with his regiment to "support" Gridley in his position of safety, disobeyed orders.