The snow was deep and the sledge teams had heavy going at first. But, after a few days, the snow began to pack, and the progress of Colonel Knox’s party became more easy. There was little or no difficulty with the streams; these were frozen solid, for the winter had developed into a remarkably severe one.

However, fresh falls of snow now and then impeded their advance, and they were content to make very few miles a day; but they pushed doggedly on, nevertheless, for they knew that their burden was urgently needed at Cambridge.

It was at Fort George that Ezra and Ben Cooper left the party and rode forward to Boston bearing the news of the expedition’s success.

The lads never forgot the look of triumph that swept into Washington’s face as he read the dispatch. Generals Putnam and Ward and Colonel Prescott were with him at the time and he read the missive aloud to them. It ran:

“‘December 17th.

“‘I hope in sixteen or seventeen days to present to your Excellency a noble train of artillery, the inventory of which I have enclosed.’”

Then he read the inventory, and the boys saw the eyes of the other officers kindle.

“Now that,” cried Putnam, striking the table a mighty blow, “is something like!”

“It would seem,” commented General Ward, “that fortune has thought it worth while to smile upon us for once, at any rate.”

“With the shells and powder from the King’s stores at New York and the cargo of the ordnance brig lately captured,” spoke Prescott, “we now have a comparative plenty of ammunition. What is there now to hinder us from moving to the reduction of Boston?”

“Nothing but the opportunity of doing so without injury to those of our own people who are still therein,” replied the commander-in-chief.

Great events had happened in the past few months. Not the least of these was the recall of General Gage by the British ministry and the appointment of Howe in his place. Washington had practically discharged one army and recruited another in the face of the enemy. The colonies were making a united effort toward liberty; for until this time New England had borne alone the brunt of the uprising.

The lads found the Porcupine at their quarters, and in a conversation with that small but very shrewd person, they learned a great deal of what had taken place.

“Last month,” said the dwarf, as he sat cross-legged before them upon a wide settle, while they ate of the good food set before them, “there was a party of British light infantry landed at Lechmere’s Point. They desired to take off some cattle; but Colonel Patterson and our riflemen objected and there was a brisk fight in which the British were driven off.”

“Have our men been keeping their hearts up?” asked Ezra.

“Fairly well. But last month things were very bad indeed in this camp. We had nothing—no food to speak of, no quarters to keep out of the weather, no fire to warm ourselves by, no clothing but rags to hide our nakedness.”

“Well,” remarked Ben Cooper, “so long as it was kept from the knowledge of the British, it was not at its worst.”

“But it was not kept from their knowledge,” returned the Porcupine. “General Howe knew of our situation all the time!”

“And he did not attack!” cried Ezra, wonderingly.

“He had been expecting reinforcements, so our spies learned,” replied the dwarf with a wise nod of the head. “And as they did not arrive, he kept waiting. You know,” and here a wide grin spread across the speaker’s face, “that he’s tried our mettle once, and so he was in no hurry to do so again without a good force behind him.”

“And the general?” asked Ben, “how did he take it all?”

“He went about as calm as the morning,” replied the Porcupine in high admiration. “You’d never have thought but what everything was as well as it could be. He seemed always planning and building defenses. General Putnam was told to occupy and fortify Cobble Hill. Two half moon batteries were thrown up between Lechmere’s Point and Cambridge River. Three places between Sewall’s Point and Roxbury Neck were also strengthened, to be manned in case of a sortie when the bay is frozen over.”

“But that things have taken a turn, I can see plainly,” said Ezra. “The camp has a brisk look; the men look content; the officers hold their heads high.”

“It all began with Captain Manly’s capture of the ‘Nancy’ brig,” said the Porcupine. “Ah, there is a brave and enterprising officer; if there are many on the sea like him, they’ll give the King’s admirals trouble enough.”

“The ‘Nancy’ is probably the ordnance brig we heard Colonel Prescott mention,” said Ben to Ezra.

The Porcupine nodded his head.

“It’s more than likely,” said he. “All have talked of it more or less. You see Captain Manly, who is in command of the ‘Lee,’ took the ‘Nancy’ as she came into the bay, and carried her into Cape Ann. And she proved to be a most wonderful treasure ship—crammed to the hatches with military stores of every sort.”

“Excellent!” cried both listeners together.

“So full was she, and so struck was General Washington by her value, that he at once sent a strong guard to protect her. He felt sure that the British would not rest until they had done something to recover a vessel so desirable.”

“And did they?”

“They had not the time, so prompt were the general’s orders, and so rapidly were they carried out. Teams were impressed, the minutemen about Cape Ann were called out to give their help; and in a little while the cargo was discharged and removed to a safe place within our lines.”

“Now that was an admirable stroke of fortune,” cried Ben Cooper. “The stores must have pleased everybody much, to change the complexion of things so.”

“They would have pleased a king,” said the Porcupine. “There were two thousand muskets; one hundred thousand flints, thirty thousand round shot for one, six and twelve-pounders; thirty tons of musket shot; eleven mortar beds; and one great thirteen-inch brass mortar that weighs not an ounce less than twenty-seven hundred pounds.”

“A most astonishing ship, indeed!” said Ezra Prentiss.

“Then there came powder and shells from New York about the same time. Barracks were built to house the troops during the severe weather. Other ships were taken by Captain Manly and seamen of his quality. Among the cargo were thousands of uniforms intended for the British soldiers, and hundreds of barrels of salt beef and pork; woolen goods in vast quantities; flour, hard biscuit and other things were taken. And, so then, as we were very well off, indeed, the recruits began to take heart and offer themselves for service: the regiments are filling up, and we will soon be quite strong once more.”

“But the British,” asked Ezra, “how do they like all their winter’s wear and provisions falling into other hands?”

“Why,” answered the dwarf with a shake of his big head, “they endure it very ill indeed. As we advanced into comfort, so did they fall in need. Fuel and food are very high in Boston at this time; and the citizens are suffering much more than the soldiery. Some few vessels have gotten safely by our privateers, but Howe has kept their stores for the use of his troops.”

“They have made no advance, then?” said Ben.

“Rather they have fallen back,” answered the dwarf, and he grinned delightedly. “They had begun to build barracks on Bunker Hill, but building materials were so scarce, the winds grew so keen, and the snow fell so constantly that Howe at length bid Clinton strike his tents and return to Boston. Lieutenant-Colonel Agnew and seven hundred are left to man the three redoubts that are now upon the hill.”

The middle of December found Boston all but upon the verge of starvation. The townspeople were desperate and Lord Howe feared that they might rise against him. He offered to allow any of those who desired to leave the city, and like Gage, covertly threatened the torch in case he were attacked from within. As a protection from an assault by Washington, which he daily dreaded, there came an outbreak of smallpox among his troops.

“That will keep the rebels out, even if our guns fail to do so,” he said.

British cannon were planted all about in the city’s hills and open places; its churches and unoccupied houses were torn down by the soldiers for fuel; Faneuil Hall was a playhouse in which mocking comedies were presented; Old South Church was used as a riding school. Under a strict martial law the people of the city were all but prisoners. Thousands now took advantage of Howe’s permission, crossed in boats to Point Shirly and dispersed into the country.

On the first day of January, in that most memorable year of 1776, the first continental flag was thrown to breeze, and as its thirteen stripes rippled at the top of the pole, it was saluted with tremendous shouting; and thirteen guns were fired by way of a salute. Upon the same day, the King’s speech upon the opening of Parliament was received in camp. For the first time the Americans heard that King George contemplated the hiring of foreign troops to help subdue them. At this, their rage was without bounds; they hooted the King, his Parliament and his army; then they burnt his speech and otherwise bid him defiance.

A little later than this came the news of the American defeat at Quebec and the death of the heroic young Montgomery, whom Washington had selected to lead the expedition against that city. Appeals were then sent out to various colonies to hurry some fresh regiments to Cambridge; and Congress formally authorized Washington to attack Boston at any time and in any manner that he thought most efficient.

When the army was finally in sufficient strength to warrant his so doing, Washington took the step that he long knew would bring him victory or defeat.

“It will bring on a general attack,” he was heard to say; “we will either be forced from our position, or the British will be compelled to take to their ships.”

This step was the occupation of Dorchester Heights. From this elevation Washington could reach Boston with the heavy guns from Ticonderoga, which had in the meantime been brought in by Colonel Knox. It was March when preparations were begun, and Ezra and his friends were in the thick of the matter.

Gilbert Scarlett was especially valuable in the designing of chandeliers, fascines and such like, necessary in the erection of the works; also with the aid of his boy friends, he worked with the spirit of a dozen in the collection of bateaux in which to transport the men.

When the time for movement arrived, Washington had forty-five of these clumsy craft, each capable of seating eighty men. Two floating batteries were held with them in the Charles River; hundreds of militia came pouring into camp to lend what aid they could to the enterprise.

The design was kept secret; to divert the attention of the enemy a brisk bombardment and cannonade was begun on the night of the second of March, from Cobble Hill, Roxbury and Lechmere’s Point. Many houses were shattered by this fire; the British returned it with spirit, but did little damage. On the night of March fourth this was repeated, and about seven o’clock, General Thomas with about two thousand men marched to take possession of Dorchester Heights. The entrenching tools, under care of a large detachment, were sent on ahead; later the main body, with three hundred carts, loaded with fascines and twisted hay, followed.

All night the Americans labored; the moon was brilliant, the guns roared, the arching shells burst high in the air. And when morning dawned, two forts were in a sufficient state of advancement to resist small arms and grape-shot.

If the British had been surprised to see the works raised in a night upon Breed’s Hill, they were astounded at the sight of those which now met their gaze upon Dorchester Heights.

“It looks like the work of twelve thousand men,” declared Lord Howe to his generals. “The rebels have done more in one night than my army has done in a month. The genii must have aided them.”

These works commanded both the harbor and town of Boston. The British admiral at once decided that the fleet could not ride in safety unless the Americans were displaced.

“We must do one of two things,” he told General Howe. “The Yankees must be driven from that post, or we must evacuate Boston.”

This enraged the governor. He had a very high notion of British honor and military superiority.

“They will be driven from the Heights,” he declared, grimly.

At once he went to work. Twenty-four hundred men were ordered to embark in transports, rendezvous at Castle William and make a night attack upon the American position. The command of this force was given to the gallant Earl Percy, the same who had come to the retreating column under Lieutenant-Colonel Smith as it fell back in defeat from Lexington in the spring before.

Washington saw this movement and sent two thousand men to reinforce General Thomas; and with the reinforcement marched Ezra Prentiss and his friends. Everywhere among the Americans was anxiety to meet the foe.

“I never saw such high spirits anywhere,” said Nat Brewster.

“Every man on the Heights seems exultant,” said Ezra. “They seem to think victory is ready at their hands.”

“And a right good thought that is for men about to engage a hostile force,” observed Gilbert Scarlett.

“Did you see the rows of barrels?” asked George Prentiss. “They are filled with earth, and have been placed in front. Upon the enemies’ advance they will be rolled down the hillside upon them.”

While things were being made ready, General Washington appeared upon the ground to inspect what was going forward and to cheer up the troops.

“Remember, men, it is the fifth of March,” he said. “Avenge the deaths of your brethren shot down in Boston.”

At fort Number Two, near Cambridge, a fine body of four thousand troops were paraded and made ready to assault the British lines. This was arranged into two divisions; one was under General Greene, the other under General Sullivan—and the whole under command of General Putnam.

But the fight was not to be just yet. The wind blew up so furiously that the British transports could not reach their destinations; and the surf was too heavy for boats to have made a landing.

The next day the British attack was still further delayed for the same reason; and all the time the Americans were increasing the strength of their works.

“I can find it in my heart to be sorry that the attack was not made,” Washington said to his generals. “Everything was complete for the reception of the enemy; we can hardly hope for a repetition of the same conditions.”

Howe was forced to abandon his project and his troops returned to Boston. His situation was now perplexing and critical. The fleet could not ride at anchor because of the positions of the American batteries, and the British army was unable to drive them from these positions. The Boston Tories, in a panic of fear of what might happen, demanded the protection which had long been guaranteed. No dispatches had been received from London for a long time.

“It looks,” grumbled the British officers, “as though we’d been left to get out of a bad scrape as best we can.”

“To remain in Boston,” said General Howe to the Tories, “will put my troops in great danger.”

“But if you don’t remain, you will put us loyalists, and all property, in equal danger,” promptly answered Ruggles, the Tory leader.

But Howe was now looking at the other side of the picture. The fate of property was nothing to him when his army was in the balance. When he had assumed command, he had written the ministry many reasons why Boston should be held. But with the great guns upon Dorchester Heights frowning down upon him, he saw many reasons why he should abandon it.

Washington desired to gain possession of the city above all else; but he wished to do so without bloodshed if it could be done. However, he went on with his preparations. On the ninth he planted a battery on Bird’s Hill and began firing upon the British shipping. Nook’s Hill was an eminence greatly feared by Howe and his officers. All along they had felt that if the Americans established themselves upon it, Boston would, indeed, be at their mercy.

Washington now directed that Nook’s Hill be occupied. A strong detachment was sent there in the night. While the guns were being brought up, Ezra Prentiss noted a soldier impudently kindling a fire behind the hill. He sprang toward the man, crying:

“Hello! Put that out!”

The man was a surly fellow and made a short reply. Ezra, without parleying, kicked the blazing wood about and began trampling upon it. But it was too late, the enemy saw the light, suspected what was going forward, and began to fire. This was the beginning of a night of terror; the American batteries answered at once from Cobble Hill, Lechmere’s Point, Roxbury and Cambridge; the British thundered and raved through the darkness like the stubborn fighters that they were. More than eight hundred cannon-shots were fired before morning, and the result was that the American works upon Nook’s Hill were stopped and the troops withdrawn.

But at the same time, this event showed General Howe that to attempt to hold Boston any longer would be folly. His horse transports were ordered to fall back to Castle William; all goods which would likely be of value to the “rebels” were confiscated. Ammunition which could not be carried was thrown into the river; guns were spiked and gun-carriages were broken.

While waiting for their ships to assemble, the city was practically given up to sack by the Tories. This news reached the American lines and Ezra and George Prentiss were greatly worried about it.

“If the British really mean to evacuate, this will make it all the harder for those Tories who are left behind,” said George.

“And grandfather is just determined, or stubborn, enough to be among those,” answered Ezra, anxiously.

In both their minds was a picture of the grim old merchant, deserted, unprotected and at the mercy of a populace whom he had long reviled. And both fervently hoped that the outgoing of Howe would be at once followed by the ingoing of Washington; as an unpatrolled city, even for a short time, might mean the death of Seth Prentiss.

On March sixteenth, as the British were still apparently undecided whether to abandon their now assembled vessels or no, Washington took the step that forced the issue. Once more he ordered a night occupation of Nook’s Hill. And this time, in spite of the enemy’s fire, he held it.

The effect was instantaneous. At nine o’clock the garrison left Bunker Hill; fleets of boats loaded with soldiers and Tories put out from the wharves of Boston.

Instantly the American troops under Putnam were put in motion. Bunker Hill was occupied; a compact force crossed to Boston from that end; another advanced across the Neck under Colonel Learned. These, under the command of Putnam, at once seized all the important posts and manned them. Ezra, Nat, Scarlett and the others, who had all crossed with Colonel Learned, rode in search of Putnam. When they found that stout warrior in the midst of his work, Ezra saluted and said:

“General, if I and my friends can be spared, we’d like to ride to Sun Court.”

“Why?” asked Putnam.

“My grandfather lives there; he may be in danger.”

“I understand,” replied the general. “Go at once; you have my authority to put down any kind of illegal violence.”

So away the five dashed through the streets. The smashed doors and windows of stores mutely told their tale; the rows of razed houses whose timbers had gone to keep the British army warm during the winter, left great gaps and also made the town look queer and strange. Gaunt and wan-faced people feebly cheered the boys as they raced over the stones; bands of eager, wolfish-looking men were already prowling about in search of what plunder the outgoing army had been forced to leave behind.

As they approached Sun Court, a muffled roar began to reach their ears. It was the sound of distant voices, angry, threatening, and high-lifted.

“Push on!” cried Ezra, his face whitening.

Urging their mounts to the utmost, they wheeled out of Fish Street into Prince’s. Louder grew the cries; people were pouring into Sun Court from every direction. Turning the corner the five rode over the bricked pavement into the midst of these and to the edge of a huge, swaying, shouting mob gathered before Seth Prentiss’ door. A stout man with a very red face and wearing the smock of a butcher stood upon the steps.

“He’s had his will with us this many a day,” cried this person loudly, “and now his British friends have left him for us to have our will with him.”

There was a shriek from the mob, and a tossing of hats and arms.

“Let us have him out of his house,” yelled a voice above all the others. “Let us show him that we, too, have our day.”

With one impulse the crowd swept forward; some were battering upon the door and heavy shutters, when the boys and Scarlett came plunging through them.

“Hold!” cried Ezra, as he reached his grandfather’s door. He wheeled his prancing horse, as did his friends, and faced the mob. “It is the order of General Putnam that no violence be offered to any one. In the name of the Continental Congress we bid you to stand back!”

The uniforms of the five were new to the men of Boston, but the name of Putnam and the mention of the Continental Congress had their effect, and they hesitated.

But the red-faced butcher urged them on.

“Will you be stopped by a parcel of boys?” he shouted. “Will you be cheated of your revenge by a handful of young upstarts because they came a-riding on horseback and use high words?”

The crowd wavered. The butcher saw this and redoubled his efforts; then Scarlett dismounted and approached him quietly. Hooking his thumbs in his sword belt the soldier of fortune said:

“My friend, you are a stout fellow enough, but you make overmuch noise for even one of your girth.”

And with that he took the butcher by the scruff of the neck and shook him like a rat. The man sputtered and coughed and fought back. But he was but as an infant in the hands of the slender but powerful adventurer, and as they witnessed his discomfiture, some of the crowd began to laugh. Then a roar of mirth went up; and seeing the good nature of the crowd, Ezra held up his hand for silence and cried:

“Boston is now in the hands of General Washington and his army. Justice will be done every man. It is your place to see to it that no good American, through a spirit of revenge, falls into the usages of the British. Go to your homes. If you have a complaint to make of any man, make it to the proper authorities. To take the law into your own hands is dangerous, for you cannot see the end of such a thing.”

There were a few scattered cheers to show that the people realized the force of this reasoning. But at the same time was heard the quick tramp of a body of Continental infantry, one of the many sent to patrol the city; and Ezra never knew but what their arrival had more to do with the mob’s change of front than anything he had said. At any rate, they were instantly seized with a huge admiration at this display of their national force, and burst into loud huzzas. The officer in command of the troop bid them disperse, as it was against the general’s orders for any crowds to collect until the city had come under control; and as both townfolk and troop passed out of Sun Court, Nat Brewster said:

“It was a fortunate circumstance that brought this finish about. I had thought to have harder work of it.”

“And I,” said a voice behind them.

All turned. The door of the mansion had opened and Seth Prentiss stood before them. He was dressed in gown and slippers; and large silver-rimmed spectacles seemed to add to the harshness of his face.

Regarding both Ezra and George for a moment in silence, he said:

“I had not expected to ever bid either of you welcome to my house. But if I were to say that I did not silently welcome you when those good friends of mine came hammering at my door, I would not be speaking the truth.”

He ran his eyes over them with an expression upon his face that neither of his grandsons had ever seen there before; then he continued:

“Neither did I ever think that you would make a better selection of government than myself.”

“Grandfather!” both boys flung themselves from their steeds and approached him, joy in their faces.

“I mean it,” cried the old merchant. “None has kept faith with the King more loyally than I have done. But he has deserted me—he has deserted his city. And now I desert him!”

He wrung the hands of his delighted grandsons, then shook his gnarled fist in the direction of the bay.

“Their ships are there, crowded with armed men; they have fled, and in so doing showed me that they are not competent to rule.” Just then another compact body of Continentals went by with throbbing drums and squealing fife. The old man watched them to the turn of the street. “Your General Washington is not of the fleeing kind,” spoke he. “He believes in a cause and holds to it like a true man should.”

“In that, Master Prentiss, you say rightly,” said Gilbert Scarlett. “And not only is he a true man, but a great soldier as well—a soldier destined to gain many victories. One victory already he has gained beside the taking of Boston Town,” with a laugh. “And that is over Gilbert Scarlett, soldier of fortune. A commission is mine, they have told me, for the asking. Always have I loved great leaders; and you may be sure that I will not delay longer now in asking for it.”

“Sir,” responded Seth Prentiss, “you show yourself a man of sense. And now,” with a bow, “will you dismount and enter? Also you, young gentlemen,” to Nat and Ben. “From now on the friends of my grandsons will be very welcome here.”

And so they tied their horses and entered the fine old house. As the door shut behind him, closing out the distant huzzas and the throbbing of the Continental drums, a sense of great peace filled Ezra’s heart.

Other Books in this Series are

THE YOUNG CONTINENTALS AND LEXINGTON
THE YOUNG CONTINENTALS AT TRENTON