the enemy's works at once. Congress was also anxious that the attack should be hurried forward. The regiments, however, were not yet filled, and at the council of officers called, a still further delay was decided upon. Nothing could be more irksome and irritating than the position in which Washington found himself. "I know," said he, "the unhappy predicament in which I stand; I know what is expected of me. I know that I cannot stand justified to the world without exposing my own weakness, and injuring the cause by declaring my wants, and my situation is so irksome to me at times that if I did not consult the public good more than my own tranquillity, I should, long ere this, put every thing on the cast of a die." That is, if it had been a matter of mere personal reputation, he would have ended the suspense that galled him like a fetter, by one desperate onset. He regretted that he had been persuaded into delay on the promise of a larger and better army, and when he saw the disinclination of the soldiers to reënlist, he said, "could I have known that such backwardness would have been discovered by the old soldiers to the service, all the generals upon earth would not have convinced me of the propriety of delaying an attack on Boston till this time."

In the midst of these trials and embarrassments came the news of Arnold's failure at Quebec, and Schuyler's in Canada, accompanied by a letter from the latter, requesting a reinforcement of three thousand men. But while enveloped in perplexities, and his mind occupied by such vast and varied schemes, he had time to think of the poor on and around his plantation, and early in the winter he wrote home to Lady Washington, "Let the hospitality of the house, with respect to the poor, be kept up. Let no one go hungry away. If any of this kind of people should be in want of corn, supply their necessities, provided it does not encourage them in idleness." Although in the present condition of his affairs, and receiving nothing for his ser

vices, the "greatest frugality and economy" are demanded, he wishes two or three hundred dollars to be devoted annu ally to the poor. Nothing escapes his all-embracing mind, and still more all-embracing heart.

All this time the two armies lay only a mile apart, in full view of each other's operations, while the outposts were almost within speaking distance. Scarcely a day passed in which there was not more or less cannonading by the enemy, to which the Americans, for want of powder, had to submit in silence. What little they had was reserved, as Washington remarked, "for closer work than cannon distance, whenever the red-coat gentry please to step out of their intrenchments."

As the winter passed on the British began to feel the want of provisions. Meat of all kinds was ruinously high, while houses were torn down to furnish fuel for the soldiers. The parsonage of the old South Meeting-house, the old North Chapel, and the wooden steeple of the West Church, were one after another pulled to pieces for this purpose, while the glorious old "Liberty Tree" furnished fourteen cords of wood. Faneuil Hall was fitted up as a theatre, in which a farce called "Boston Blockaded," was played, to the infinite amusement of the British and Tories. One of the chief characters in it was Washington, who cut a sorry figure on the stage. Shabbily clad, with a long, rusty sword by his side, attended by an ungainly, ragged servant, carrying an ancient gun, he walked the boards with a gait that drew down the house, while his speeches were received with immoderate laughter. This was all very well in a farce, but an incident occurred one night that showed how close fear trod on the heels of laughter.

A detachment had been sent to Charlestown to destroy some houses either occupied, or used for fuel by British soldiers. In this they were successful, making several prisoners. The skirmish that followed was taken by the

outposts for a general movement of the army and an officer burst into the theatre exclaiming, "the rebels are attacking our works on Bunker Hill!" The audience, supposing this to be a part of the play, and intended as a surprise, roared with laughter, but when, suddenly, high over the merriment, Lord Howe, who was present, shouted, "Officers, to your alarm posts!" the farce was turned into a tragedy, and manager, characters, audience and all, rushed pell-mell from the building.

The winter had been so mild, that but little ice had formed in the waters around Boston, but at length, in the middle of February, it froze hard enough to bear troops, and Washington proposed to take advantage of it at once, and, crossing from Roxbury to Dorchester Heights, fortify the latter, and at the same time carry Boston by assault. A council of war, however, decided that the latter attempt was too perilous. Mortified and disappointed at this lack of spirit and daring, Washington, nevertheless, resolved to take possession of Dorchester Heights, and plant his batteries above the town, and, if needs be, demolish it, crowded though it was with friends as well as foes. The noble Hancock had urged him to do this, and, if necessary, send the first shot against his own dwelling.

The great difficulty, however, was to cast up intrenchments in a single night, sufficiently strong to cover the troops from the British fire in the morning. The manner in which this was done I find thus clearly related in the diary of Rufus Putnam, the chief engineer of the army.* "1776, January and February. During those months the mind of General Washington was deeply engaged in a

* Judge Putnam of Ohio, the descendant of Rufus Putnam, has kindly furnished .ne with the manuscript diary of his ancestor, together with other valuable papers. Though not a professed engineer, he had had a good deal of experience in the French war, and the post was almost forced upon him by Washington and the other generals. All the works at Dorchester, Roxbury, and Brookline, were laid out by him.