“Ha!” he muttered to himself, “I have been dreaming but by halves—these are the sounds of no fancied tempest, but cannon, speaking most plainly to the soldier!”
He opened his window, and looked out upon the surrounding scene. The roar of artillery was quick and heavy, and Lionel bent his eyes about him to discover the cause of this unusual occurrence. It had been the policy of Gage to await the arrival of his reinforcements, before he struck a blow which was intended to be decisive; and the Americans were well known to be too scantily supplied with the munitions of war, to waste a single charge of powder in any of the vain attacks of modern sieges. A knowledge of these facts gave an additional interest to the curiosity with which Major Lincoln endeavoured to penetrate the mystery of so singular a disturbance. Window after window in the adjacent buildings soon exhibited, like his own, its wondering and alarmed spectator. Here and there a half-dressed soldier, or a busy townsman, was seen hurrying along the silent streets, with steps that denoted the eagerness of curiosity. Women began to rush wildly from their dwellings, and then, as the sounds broke on their ears with ten-fold heaviness in the open air, they shrunk back into their habitations in dismay. Lionel called to three or four of the men as they hurried by, but turning their eyes towards his window, they passed on without answering, as if the emergency were too pressing to admit of speech. Finding his repeated inquiries fruitless, he hastily dressed himself, and descended to the street. As he left his own door, a half-clad artillerist hurried past him, adjusting his garments with one hand, and bearing in the other some of the lesser implements of the particular corps in which he served.
“What means the firing, sergeant,” demanded Lionel, “and whither do you hasten with those fuses?”
“The rebels, your honour, the rebels!” returned the soldier, looking back to speak, without ceasing his speed; “and I go to my guns!”
“The rebels!” repeated Lionel—“what can we have to fear, from a mob of countrymen, in such a position—that fellow has slept from his post, and apprehensions for himself mingle with this zeal for his king!”
The towns-people now began to pour from their dwellings in scores; and Lionel imitated their example, and took his course towards the adjacent height of Beacon-hill. He toiled his way up the steep ascent, in company with twenty more, without exchanging a syllable with men who appeared as much astonished as himself at this early interruption of their slumbers, and in a few minutes he stood on the little grassy platform, surrounded by a hundred interested gazers. The sun had just lifted the thin veil of mist from the water, and the eye was permitted to range over a wide field beneath the vapour. Several vessels were moored in the channels of the Charles and the Mystick, to cover the northern approaches to the place; and as he beheld the column of white smoke that was wreathing about the masts of a frigate, Lionel was no longer at a loss to comprehend whence the firing proceeded. While he was yet gazing, uncertain of the reasons which demanded this show of war, immense fields of smoke burst from the side of a ship of the line, who also opened her deep-mouthed cannon, and presently her example was followed by several floating batteries, and lighter vessels, until the wide amphitheatre of hills that encircled Boston was filled with the echoes of a hundred pieces of artillery.
“What can it all mean, sir!” exclaimed a young officer of his own regiment, addressing Major Lincoln—“the sailors are in downright earnest, and they scale their guns with shot, I know, by the rattling of the reports!”
“I can boast of a vision no better than your own,” returned Lionel; “for no enemy can I see. As the guns seem pointed at the opposite peninsula, it is probable a party of the Americans are attempting to destroy the grass which lies newly mown in the meadows.”
The young officer was in the act of assenting to this conjecture, when a voice was heard above their heads, shouting—
“There goes a gun from Copp’s! They needn’t think to frighten the people with rake-helly noises; let them blaze away till the dead get out of their graves—the Bay-men will keep the hill!”
Every eye was turned upward, and the wondering and amused spectators discovered Job Pray, seated in the grate of the Beacon, his countenance, usually so vacant, gleaming with exultation, while he continued waving his hat, as gun after gun was added to the uproar of the cannonade.
“How now, fellow!” exclaimed Lionel; “what see you? and where are the Bay-men of whom you speak?”
“Where,” returned the simpleton, clapping his hands with childish delight—“why, where they came at dark midnight, and where they’ll stand at open noon-day! The Bay-men can look into the windows of old Funnel at last, and now let the reg’lars come on, and they’ll teach the godless murderers the law!”
Lionel, a little irritated with the language of Job, called to him in an angry voice—
“Come down from that perch, fellow, and explain yourself, or this grenadier shall lift you from your seat, and transfer you to the post for a little of that wholesome correction you need.”
“You promised that the grannies should never flog Job ag’in,” said the fool, crouching down in the grate, whence he looked out at his threatened chastiser with a lowering and sullen eye—“and Job agreed to run your a’r’nds, and not take any of the king’s crowns in pay.”
“Come down, then, and I will remember the compact.”
Comforted by this assurance, which was made in a more friendly tone, Job threw himself carelessly from his iron seat, and clinging to the post, he slid swiftly to the earth, where Major Lincoln immediately arrested him by the arm.
“Where are those Bay-men, I once more ask?”
“There!” repeated Job, pointing over the low roofs of the town, in the direction of the opposite peninsula. “They dug their cellar on Breeds, and now they are fixing the underpinnin’, and next you’ll see what a raising they’ll invite the people to!”
The instant the spot was named, all those eyes which had hitherto gazed at the vessels themselves, instead of searching for the object of their hostility, were turned on the green eminence which rose a little to the right of the village of Charlestown, and every doubt was at once removed by the discovery. The high, conical summit of Bunker-hill lay naked, and unoccupied, as on the preceding day; but on the extremity of a more humble ridge, which extended within a short distance of the water, a low bank of earth had been thrown up, for purposes which no military eye could mistake. This redoubt, small and inartificial as it was, commanded by its position the whole of the inner harbour of Boston, and even endangered, in some measure, the occupants of the town itself. It was the sudden appearance of this magical mound, as the mists of the morning dispersed, which roused the slumbering seamen; and it had already become the target of all the guns of the shipping. Amazement at the temerity of their countrymen, held the townsmen silent, while Major Lincoln, and the few officers who stood nigh him, saw at a glance, that this step on the part of their adversaries would bring the affairs of the leaguer to a crisis. In vain they turned their wondering looks on the neighbouring eminence, and around the different points of the peninsula, in quest of those places of support with which soldiers generally entrench their defences. The husbandmen opposed to them, had seized upon the point best calculated to annoy their foes, without regard to the consequences; and in a few short hours, favoured by the mantle of night, had thrown up their work with a dexterity that was only exceeded by their boldness. The truth flashed across the brain of Major Lincoln, and he felt his cheeks glow as he remembered the low and indistinct murmurs which the night air had wafted to his ears, and those inexplicable fancies, which had even continued to haunt him till dispersed by truth and the light of day. Motioning Job to follow, he left the hill with a hurried step, and when they gained the common, he turned, and said to his companion—
“Fellow, you have been privy to this midnight work!”
“Job has enough to do in the day, without labouring in the night, when
none but the dead are out of their places of rest,” returned the lad, with a look of mental imbecility, which immediately disarmed the resentment of the other.
Lionel smiled as he again remembered his own weakness, and repeated to himself—
“The dead! ay, these are the works of the living, and bold men are they who have dared to do the deed. But tell me, Job, for ’tis in vain to attempt deceiving me any longer, what number of Americans did you leave on the hill when you crossed the Charles to visit the graves on Copp’s, the past night?”
“Both hills were crowded,” returned the other—“Breeds with the people, and Copp’s with the ghosts—Job believes the dead rose to see their children digging so nigh them!”
“’Tis probable,” said Lionel, who believed it wisest to humour the wild conceits of the lad, in order to disarm his cunning; “but though the dead are invisible, the living may be counted.”
“Job did count five hundred men, marching over the nose of Bunker, by star-light, with picks and spades; and then he stopped, for he forgot whether seven or eight hundred came next.”
“And after you ceased to count, did others pass?”
“The Bay-colony isn’t so poorly off for men, that it can’t muster a thousand at a raising.”
“But you had a master workman on the occasion; was it the wolf-hunter of Connecticut?”
“There is no occasion to go from the province to find a workman to lay out a cellar!—Dicky Gridley is a Boston boy!”
“Ah! he is the chief! we can have nothing to fear then, since the Connecticut woodsman is not at their head?”
“Do you think old Prescott, of Pepperell, will quit the hill while he has a kernel of powder to burn!—no, no, Major Lincoln, Ralph himself an’t a stouter warrior; and you can’t frighten Ralph!”
“But if they fire their cannon often, their small stock of ammunition will be soon consumed, and then they must unavoidably run.”
Job laughed tauntingly, and with an appearance of high scorn—
“Yes, if the Bay-men were as dumb as the king’s troops, and used big guns! but the cannon of the colony want but little brimstone, and there’s but few of them—let the rake-hellies go up to Breeds; the people will teach them the law!”
Lionel had now obtained all he expected to learn from the simpleton concerning the force and condition of the Americans; and as the moments were too precious to be wasted in vain discourse, he bid the lad repair to his quarters that night, and left him. On entering his own lodgings, Major Lincoln shut himself up in his private apartment, and passed several hours in writing, and in examining important papers. One letter, in particular, was written, read, torn, and rewritten five or six times, until at length he placed his seal, and directed the important paper with a sort of carelessness that denoted patience was exhausted by repeated trials. These documents were entrusted to Meriton, with orders to deliver them to their several addresses, unless countermanded before the following day, and the young man hastily swallowed a late and light breakfast. While shut up in his closet, Lionel had several times thrown aside his pen to listen, for the hum of the place penetrated to his retirement, and announced the excitement and bustle which pervaded the streets of the town. Having at length completed the task he had assigned himself, he caught up his hat, and took his way, with hasty steps, into the centre of the place.
Cannon were rattling over the pavements, followed by ammunition wagons, and officers and men of the artillery were seen in swift pursuit of their pieces. Aide-de-camps were riding furiously through the streets, charged with important messages; and here and there an officer might be seen issuing from his quarters, with a countenance in which manly pride struggled powerfully with inward dejection, as he caught the last glance of anguish which followed his retiring form, from eyes that had been used to meet his own with looks of confidence and love. There was, however, but little time to dwell on these flitting glimpses of domestic wo, amid the general bustle and glitter of the scene. Now and then the strains of martial music broke up through the windings of the crooked avenues, and detachments of the troops wheeled by on their way to the appointed place of embarkation. While Lionel stood a moment at the corner of a street, admiring the firm movement of a body of grenadiers, his eye fell on the powerful frame and rigid features of M’Fuse, marching at the head of his company with that gravity which regarded the accuracy of the step amongst the important incidents of life. At a short distance from him was Job Pray, timing his paces to the tread of the soldiers, and regarding the gallant show with stupid admiration, while his ear unconsciously drank the inspiriting music of their band. As this fine body of men passed on, it was immediately succeeded by a battalion in which Lionel recognised the facings of his own regiment. The warm-hearted Polwarth led its forward files, and waving his hand, he cried—
“God bless you, Leo, God bless you—we shall make a fair stand up fight of this; there is an end of all stag-hunting.”
The notes of the horns rose above his voice, and Lionel could do no more than return his cordial salute; when, recalled to his purpose by the sight of his comrades, he turned, and pursued his way to the quarters of the commander-in-chief.
The gate of Province-house was thronged with military men; some waiting for admittance, and others entering and departing with the air of those who were charged with the execution of matters of moment. The name of Major Lincoln was hardly announced before an aid appeared to conduct him into the presence of the governor, with a politeness and haste that several gentlemen, who had been in waiting for hours, deemed in a trifling degree unjust.
Lionel, however, having little to do with murmurs which he did not hear, followed his conductor, and was ushered into the apartment, where a council of war had just closed its deliberations. On the threshold of its door he was compelled to give way to an officer who was departing in haste, and whose powerful frame seemed bent a little in the intensity of thought, as his dark, military countenance lighted for an instant with the salutation he returned to the low bow of the young soldier. Around this chief clustered a group of younger men, and as they departed in company, Lionel was enabled to gather from their conversation that they took their way for the field of battle. The room was filled with officers of rank, though here and there was to be seen a man in civil attire, whose disappointed and bitter looks announced him to be one of those mandamus counsellors, whose evil advice had hastened the mischief their wisdom could never repair. From out a small circle of these mortified civilians, the unpretending person of Gage advanced to meet Lionel, forming a marked contrast by the simplicity of its dress, to the military splendour that was glittering around him.
“In what can I oblige Major Lincoln?” he said, taking the young man by the hand cordially, as if glad to be rid of the troublesome counsellors he had so unceremoniously quitted.
“‘Wolfe’s own’ has just passed me on its way to the boats, and I have ventured to intrude on your excellency to inquire if it were not time its Major had resumed his duty?”
A shade of thought was seated for a moment on the placid features of the general, and he then answered with a friendly smile—
“’Twill be no more than an affair of out-posts, and must be quickly ended. But should I grant the request of every brave young man whose spirit is up to-day, it might cost his majesty’s service the life of some officer that would make the purchase of the pile of earth too dear.”
“But may I not be permitted to say, that the family of Lincoln is of the Province, and its example should not be lost on such an occasion?”
“The loyalty of the colonies is too well represented here to need the sacrifice,” said Gage, glancing his eyes carelessly at the group behind him.—“My council have decided on the officers to be employed, and I regret that Major Lincoln’s name was omitted, since I know it will give him pain; but valuable lives are not to be lightly and unnecessarily exposed.”
Lionel bowed
, and after communicating the little he had gathered from Job Pray, he turned away, and found himself near another officer, who smiled as he observed his disappointed countenance, and taking him by the arm, led him from the room, with a freedom suited to his easy air.
“Then, like myself, Lincoln, you are not to battle for the king to-day,” he said, on gaining the anti-chamber. “Howe has the luck of the occasion, if there can be luck in so vulgar an affair. But allons; accompany me to Copp’s, as a spectator, since they deny us parts in the drama; and perhaps we may pick up materials for a pasquinade, though not for an epic.”
“Pardon me, General Burgoyne,” said Lionel, “if I view the matter with more serious eyes than yourself.”
“Ah! I had forgot that you were a follower of Percy in the hunt of Lexington!” interrupted the other; “we will call it a tragedy, then, if it better suits your humour. For myself, Lincoln, I weary of these crooked streets and gloomy houses, and having some taste for the poetry of nature, would have long since looked out upon the deserted fields of these husbandmen, had the authority, as well as the inclination, rested with me. But Clinton is joining us: he, too, is for Copp’s, where we can all take a lesson in arms, by studying the manner in which Howe wields his battalions.”
A soldier of middle age now joined them, whose stout frame, while it wanted the grace and ease of the gentleman who still held Lionel by the arm, bore a martial character to which the look of the quiet and domestic Gage was a stranger; followed by their several attendants, the whole party immediately left the government-house to take their destined position on the eminence so often mentioned.
James Fenimore Cooper's Five Novels Page 71
