“I am aware of the danger,” replied the young and ardent soldier, “but I should die with shame, if I were to remain at home in safety, while my friends and fellow-citizens are shedding their blood, and hazarding their lives in the cause.”
“Your ardent temper,” replied Gerry, “will carry you forward into the midst of peril, and you will probably fall.”
“I know that I may fall,” returned Warren; “but where is the American who does not think it a glory to die in defense of his country?”
After the adjournment of the committee, he mounted his horse, and rode to Charlestown, where he arrived but a short time before the battle commenced.
General Pomroy, of Northampton, reached headquarters at this time, as a volunteer; he had served, with the rank of captain, under Sir William Johnson, in the war of 1756; and was distinguished in the celebrated battle with the French and Indians, under Baron Dieskau. When the sound of the artillery rattled in his ears, he felt it as a summons to action, and could not resist the temptation to repair to the field. He accordingly requested General Ward to lend him a horse, and taking a musket, set off at full speed for Charlestown. On reaching the Neck, and finding it enfiladed by a hot and heavy fire of round, bar, and chain-shot from the Glasgow, he began to be alarmed, not, as may be supposed, for his own safety, but for that of General Ward’s horse. Horses were at this time almost as rare and precious as the nobler animals that rode them. Too honest to expose his borrowed horse to “the pelting of the pitiless storm,” and too bold to dream of shrinking from it himself, the conqueror of Baron Dieskau dismounted, delivered the horse to a sentry near, shouldered his musket, and marched on foot across the Neck. On reaching the hill, he took his station near the redoubt; and he had no sooner been recognised by the soldiers, than his name rang with repeated shouts along the line. About three o’clock in the afternoon, every necessary preparation being made, the signal for action was given by a general discharge of artillery along the whole British line.
The troops advanced in two divisions, General Howe, in person, led the right, toward the rail-fence; General Pigot, with the left, aimed directly at the redoubt. At this time, it appears, the order for the exchange of balls sent in mistake, had not yet been answered, which caused a suspension of the fire from the British artillery very soon after it had commenced. It was, however, renewed with grape-shot. The little battery, stationed at the opening between the redoubt and breastwork, in the American lines, replied with great effect. In the meantime, the American drums beat to arms. General Putnam, who was still at work on the redoubt, quitted the intrenchment, and led his men into action. “Powder is scarce,” said the veteran, addressing them in his usual laconic style; “powder is scarce, and must not be wasted; reserve your fire till you see the whites of their eyes, then take aim at the officers.” These laconic remarks were repeated as an order along the line; but when the British had come within gunshot of the works, a few sharp-shooters disobeyed the injunction, and fired. “Fire again before the word is given at your peril,” exclaimed Prescott; “the next man that disobeys orders shall be instantly shot.” The British were now at only eight rods distance. “Now, men, now is your time!” said Prescott. “Make ready! take aim! fire!”
So effectually was this order obeyed, that when the smoke disappeared, the whole hill-side was covered with the fallen. The British returned the fire, and attempted to rally and advance, but without success. After a moment’s irresolution, they turned their backs, and hurried from the hill.
Such was the futile attempt to storm the works; and had the reinforcements of artillery and supplies of ammunition, which had been ordered from Cambridge, arrived, a brilliant success must have followed. It was at this moment that the mischief resulting from Colonel Gridley’s ill-judged exhibition of parental partiality, in giving the place of major in the artillery to his son, in preference to Count Rumford, was severely felt. This young officer, as his subsequent conduct proved, was entirely incompetent to the duty assigned him.
Could the long-tried and energetic character of Rumford been employed, there would have been no want of ammunition; powder and balls enough would have found their way into their works, and the day might still have been ours. But America paid the penalty of Colonel Gridley’s fatherly weakness, as Great Britain did that of General Cleveland’s superannuated gallantry. The American artillery was badly served through the whole action. Early in the day the officer, who was stationed with his company and two field pieces at the opening between the redoubt and breastwork, drew off his pieces from the post assigned, in order, as he said, to prepare his ammunition in safety. General Putnam was obliged to employ Captain Ford to drag the pieces back; by him and Captain Perkins, they were served the whole day. Major Gridley, who had been ordered with his battalion from Cambridge to the lines with all speed; had advanced only a short distance beyond the Neck, and halted, as he said, in order to wait and cover the retreat, which his inexperience deemed inevitable.
At that moment, Colonel Frye, a veteran of the old French wars, whose regiment was in the redoubt, perceived Major Gridley with his artillery in the position described. Frye galloped up to him, and demanded what it meant.