“We are waiting,” said Gridley, “to cover the retreat.”
“Retreat!” replied the veteran, “who talks of retreating? This day thirty years ago I was present at the first taking of Louisburg, when your father, with his own hand, lodged a shell in the citadel. His son was not born to talk of retreating. Forward to the lines!”
Gridley proceeded a short distance with his artillery, but overcome with terror, and unequal to such a task, he ordered his men to re-cross the Neck, and take a position, where they were to fire with their three pounders upon the Glasgow. The order was so absurd that Captain Trevett refused to obey it, and proceeded at once toward the lines. Major Gridley was tried for neglect of duty, and dismissed from service.
A few hours had now passed in silence, when General Howe determined upon a second attack, and, having rallied and re-organized his men, gave the order to advance. This was complied with, and the artillery pushed forward to within three hundred yards of the rail-fence, to prepare the way for the infantry. During these movements, a solemn silence brooded over the American lines.
The men were ordered not to fire till the enemy were within six rods distance. While every thing was in agitation, a new spectacle burst upon the eyes of the assembled multitude, and added another feature more startling, if possible, than the rest, to the terrible sublimity of the scene. Clouds of smoke were seen to overspread the air, from which flashed sheets of fire. It soon became apparent that Charlestown was in flames. The British General had been annoyed, at his first attack upon the works, by the fire of a detachment stationed in the town, and had given orders that it should be burned. For this purpose, combustibles were hurled into it from Boston, which commenced the conflagration; and a detachment of marines from the Somerset, were directed to land, and aid in its destruction. The flames spread with devastating rapidity, till street on street, and house on house, were even with the ground. The last structure which seemed to strive with holy efforts against the devouring element, was the large church; sublime indeed was the spectacle! the crackling flames ascending from the body of the spacious building, and playing around its lofty spire. Solemn indeed was the continuous toll of the large bell, as the beams that suspended it were vibrating, till they fell with one tremendous crash. Scenes like these in ordinary times, which would have driven the most inanimate soul to madness, were entirely overlooked by both armies, who coolly prosecuted their work.
The British troops ascended the hill by slow and regular approaches, firing without aim, in platoons, with all the precision of a holyday review.
The Americans, agreeably to their orders, reserved their fire till the British were within six rods distance. The word was then given, and the discharge took place with more fatal effect than the former attack. Hundreds of the British soldiers fell—General Howe remained almost alone, for he lost almost every officer belonging to his staff. His aids, Colonels Gordon, Balfour and Addison; the last was a member of the family of the author of the “Spectator.”
So tremendous was the havoc, that, the second time on this eventful day, did the British army retreat from the hill. At this period in the progress of the battle, a little incident occurred, which shows that the American officers were fighting for their country, not for the sake of blood and carnage, and that they never forgot that high-souled feeling for which they were ever distinguished. After the fire from the American works had taken effect, Major Small, (who has been named before as a personal friend of Putnam,) like his commander, remained almost alone on the field.
His companions in arms had been all swept away, and standing thus apart, he became, from the brilliancy of his uniform, a conspicuous mark for the Americans within the redoubt. They had already pointed their unerring rifles at his heart, and the delay of another minute would probably have stopped its pulses forever.
At this moment Putnam recognized his friend, and perceiving the imminent danger in which he was placed, sprang upon the parapet, and threw himself before the levelled rifles.