Another British officer said, “These works were raised with an expedition equal to that of the genii belonging to Aladdin’s lamp.”
Lord Howe said, further, “The rebels have done more in one night than my whole army would have done in a month.”
“Perhaps,” said Heath, “there never was as much done in so short a space.”
The reader of this narrative, whether citizen or soldier, cannot fail to be interested in some account of the extreme simplicity with which the construction of these works had been carried on. The earth, at that time, was frozen to the depth of eighteen inches, rendering the use of pick-axe and shovel, and all intrenching-tools, of little use; besides, the noise of their handling would have betrayed the workmen. The secret of Washington’s silent preparatory work, and the accumulation of such heaps of material behind his headquarters, is revealed. Hoop-poles, for hurdles and fascines,—branches cut from apple orchards, and along brooks, for abatis, even as far out as the present suburban towns of Brookline, Milton, Mattapan, and Hyde Park, had been accumulated in great quantities. Large bales of compressed hay, which were proof against any ordinary cannon-ball, had been procured also, so that the merely heaping up and arranging these under the personal direction of Engineer Putnam, according to a plan fully digested in advance, was but easy work for a class of country soldiers peculiarly “handy” with all such materials. Then, on the tops of the improvised redoubts, were barrels filled with stones. These, at the proper time, were to be rolled down the hill, to disconcert the formal array of steadily advancing British regulars.
The management of the whole affair was hardly less simple. Eight hundred soldiers, not needed during the cannonading, quietly marched out of camp the night before,—some between Boston and Dorchester Heights, and others at the east end of the peninsula, opposite Castle Island; while still others, with tools, and a supporting party of twelve hundred soldiers under General Thomas, followed the advance. Three hundred carts, loaded with suitable material, followed.
All this movement was liable to be discovered in spite of the incessant roar of heavy ordnance over the works of besiegers and besieged. The flash of heated guns or bursting bombs might light up the trail of this slowly crawling expedition, and vast interests were staked upon the daring venture. But, along the most exposed parts of the way, the bales of pressed hay had been placed as a protecting screen; and behind its sufficient cover, the carts passed to and fro in safety. Even the moon itself only deepened the shadow of this artificial protector, while in position to light, as by day, the steps of the advancing patriots. And there was, also, a brisk north wind which bore away from the city, southward, all sounds which were not already lost in the hurricane of war that hushed all but those of battle.
But the American Commander-in-Chief had fully anticipated the possible incident of a premature discovery of his design against Dorchester. The success of his plans for the night did not wholly depend upon the undisturbed occupation and fortification of Dorchester Heights. That silent procession of two thousand countrymen was not, as at Bunker Hill, a sort of “forlorn-hope” affair. It was not hurried, nor was it costly of strength or patience. Reliefs came and went; and the system, order, and progress that marked each hour could not have been better realized by day. Instructions had been explicit; and these were executed with coolness and precision, as a simple matter of fact, to be done as ordered by Washington.
The silent preparations of the preceding day had provided for the main body of the American army other employment than a listless watch of a vigorous bombardment and its pyrotechnic illumination of the skies. At battery “Number Two,” the floating batteries and batteaux were fully manned, for crossing to Boston. Greene and Sullivan, with four thousand thoroughly rested troops, and these carefully picked men, were ready to move on the instant, if the garrison attempted to interfere with Washington’s original purpose.
An eminent historian thus characterized the event: “One unexpended combination, concerted with faultless ability, and suddenly executed, had, in a few hours, made General Howe’s position at Boston untenable.”
As soon as General Howe appreciated the changed conditions of his relations to the besieging rebels, he despatched Earl Percy, who had met rebels twice before, with twenty-four hundred troops to dislodge the enemy from Dorchester Heights. The command moved promptly, by boats, to Castle Island, for the purpose of making a night attack. Sharp-shooting, by the American “Minute Men,” in broad daylight, behind breastworks, was not courted by Percy on this occasion, nor desired by General Howe. During the afternoon a storm arose from the south, which increased to a gale, followed at night by torrents of rain. Some boats were cast ashore, and the entire expedition was abandoned.