The Battle of Bunker Hill: Pomeroy and Putnam

The veteran General Pomeroy, on hearing the distant roar of the artillery, borrowed a horse to carry him to the field. On approaching the Neck, which was swept by a tremendous firing form the British ships, he became alarmed, not for his own safety, but for that of the horse he had borrowed. He accordingly left his charger in charge of a sentinel, and coolly walked over, mounted the hill, and advanced to the rail fence. He was received with the highest exultation, and the name of Pomeroy rang through the line.

General Warren had previously made his way to the same point. Later, when it became evident that an assault would be made upon the works, General Ward sent reinforcements to Prescott.

The British van soon appeared in view. The Americans, eager to salute them, were with difficulty restrained from firing too soon. General Putnam rode along the line, giving strict orders that no one should fire till the enemy had arrived within eight rods, nor then, till the word of command should be given. "Powder is scarce," said he, "and must not be wasted. Do not fire at the enemy till you see the whites of their eyes; then fire low,--take aim at their waistbands,--aim at the handsome coats,--pick off the commanders." The same orders were given by Prescott, Pomeroy, Stark, and all the veteran officers.

The effect of these orders was tremendous. With a bold and confident front, assured of an easy victory over the raw, undisciplined troops of the Provinces, the British troops advanced to the fatal line, eight rods in advance of the defences, when a well-aimed volley from the deadly muskets within swept away the whole front rank, and laid many a gallant officer in the dust. Rank succeeded ran, and volley following volley mowed them down, till at length they were compelled to retreat.

Three times did the brave veterans of the British retreat before the deadly fire of the American militia, with the loss of whole ranks of men and the very elite of their officers; and three times, in the face of this almost certain death, they returned to the charge. They had expected an easy victory, and promised themselves that at the first approach of a regular army the raw, undisciplined Americans would fly like frightened sheep. They now found, not less to their cost than to their surprise, that they had men to deal with, and that courage, daring, and the highest heroism were less a matter of training than of principle. As colonel Abercrombie led up his men to the charge, he was saluted by a familiar stentorian voice from the redoubt, reminding him, probably, of a reproachful epithet he had applied to his enemies: "Colonel Abercrombie, are the Yankees cowards?"

Hitherto the British had neglected the only manoeuvre by which they could possibly defeat their enemy, so long as their ammunition should last. This was to charge with the bayonet. The Americans were wholly unprovided with bayonets, and therefore could not resist nor withstand a charge. But this the assailants did not know. They relied upon their fire, which was for the most part aimless and ineffectual, while every shot from the redoubt, the breastwork, and the rail fence, being reserved and deliberate, found its victim.

While these terrible scenes were enacting, several reinforcements arrived from Boston to the aid of the British, till their whole number amounted to not less than eight thousand. To add new horrors to the scene, vast columns of smoke were observed over Charlestown, and the village was seen to be on fire in several places.

The British had been annoyed by a fire from this place, and sent a detachment of men to burn it. While they were doing so, and seeking to gain the rear of the Americans under cover of the smoke, Putnam saw them, and opened on them with some cannon which had been deserted.

The pieces were well aimed, General Putnam dismounting and pointing them himself, and every ball took effect. One canister was so well directed that it made a complete lane through the columns of the enemy, and threw them into momentary confusion. With wonderful courage, however, they closed their ranks, and advanced again to the charge. The Americans, their cartridges being spent, resorted to their muskets, and, suffering their assailants to approach still nearer than before, poured in a volley with such deliberate aim that the front rank was swept wholly away, and officers and men fell in promiscuous heaps.

In the midst of this thunder of artillery and rattling of musketry, the sulphurous smoke rolling up in heavy volumes, and the balls whistling by on every side, Captain Foster, of Colonel Mansfield's regiment, arrived with a supply of powder from the American camp. It was brought in casks in wagons, and distributed loose to the soldiers, as they were able to take it; some receiving it in their horns, some in their pockets, and some in their hats, or whatever else they had that would hold it.