crossing the water that remained up to the walls of Boston, a great number of boats had been provided. In addition to this, two floating batteries were stationed at the mouth of the river of Cambridge. It was known that the garrison suffered severely for the want of provisions, and that it was greatly enfeebled by fatigues and maladies. The commander-in-chief had, besides, the greatest confidence in the valor and constancy of his soldiers. He accordingly assembled all the generals, and proposed to them his plan of attack. Ward and Gates, both officers of great distinction, opposed it; alledging, that without incurring so great a risk, the enemy might be forced to evacuate Boston by occupying the heights of Dorchester, which command the entire city. Washington did not conceal his dissatisfaction at this opposition; but he was constrained to acquiesce in the opinion of the majority. It was resolved, therefore, to take the position of the heights. At the suggestion of generals Ward, Thomas, and Spencer, a great quantity of fascines and gabions had been prepared for this expedition. The fortresses of Ticonderoga and Crown Point had furnished heavy cannon, and a sufficient number of howitzers and mortars. It appears that general Howe, who was naturally very circumspect, thought himself too feeble to prevent the execu tion of this design, which was to be, however, decisive of the total issue of the siege.

The Americans, in order to occupy the attention of the enemy in another part, erected strong batteries upon the shore at Cobb's Hill, at Lechmere's Point, at Phipp's Farm, and at Lambsdam, near Roxbury. They opened a terrible fire in the night of the second of March; the bombs, at every instant, fell into the city. The garrison was incessantly employed in extinguishing the flames of the houses in combustion, and in all the different services that are necessary in such circumstances. During this time the Americans prepared themselves with ardor, or rather with joy, to take possession of the heights. Companies of militia arrived from all parts to re-inforce the army. The night of the fourth of March was selected for the expedition; the chiefs hoped that the recollection of the events of the fifth of March, 1770, when the first blood had been shed in Boston by the English, would inflame with new ardor, and a thirst of vengeance, those spirits already so resolute in their cause.

Accordingly, in the evening of the fourth, all the arrangements being made, the Americans proceeded in profound silence towards the peninsula of Dorchester. The obscurity of the night was propitious, and the wind favorable, since it could not bear to the enemy the little noise which it was impossible to avoid. The frost had

rendered the roads easy. The batteries of Phipp's Farm, and those of Roxbury, incessantly fulminated with a stupendous roar

Eight hundred men composed the vanguard; it was followed by carriages filled with utensils of intrenchment, and twelve hundred pioneers led by general Thomas. In the rear guard were thrce hundred carts of fascines, of gabions, and bundles of hay, destined to cover the flank of the troops in the passage of the isthmus of Dorchester, which, being very low, was exposed to be raked on both sides by the artillery of the English vessels.

All succeeded perfectly; the Americans arrived upon the heights, not only without being molested, but even without being perceived by the enemy.

They set themselves to work with an activity so prodigious, that by ten o'clock at night they had already constructed two forts, in condition to shelter them from small arms and grape-shot; one upon the height nearest to the city, and the other upon that which looks towards Castle Island. The day appeared; but it prevented not the provincials from continuing their works, without any movement being made on the part of the garrison. At length, when the haze of the morning was entirely dissipated, the English discovered, with extreme surprise, the new fortifications of the Americans.

The English admiral, having examined them, declared, that if the nemy was not dislodged from this position, his vessels could no longer remain in the harbor without the most imminent hazard of total destruction. The city itself was exposed to be demolished to its foundations, at the pleasure of the provincials. The communication, also, between the troops that guarded the isthmus of Boston, and those within the town, became extremely difficult and dangerous. The artillery of the Americans battered the strand, whence the English would have to embark in case of retreat. There was no other choice, therefore, left them, but either to drive the colonists from this station by dint of force, or to evacuate the city altogether.

General Howe decided for the attack, and made his dispositions accordingly. Washington, on his part, having perceived the design, prepared himself to repel it. The intrenchments were perfected with diligence; the militia were assembled from the neighboring towns, and signals were concerted to be given upon all the eminences which form a sort of cincture about all the shore of Boston, from Roxbury to Mystic river, in order to transmit intelligence and orders with rapidity from one point to the other.

Washington exhorted his soldiers to bear in mind the fifth of March. Nor did he restrict himself to defensive measures, he thought also of the means of falling, himself, upon the enemy, if

during or after the battle, any favorable occasion should present itself. If the besieged, as he hoped, should experience a total defeat in the assault of Dorchester, his intention was to embark from Cambridge four thousand chosen men, who, rapidly crossing the arm of the sea, should take advantage of the tumult and confusion to attempt the assault of the town. General Sullivan commanded the first division; general Greene the second. An attack was expected like that of Charlestown, and a battle like that of Breed's Hill. General Howe ordered ladders to be prepared to scale the works of the Americans. He directed lord Percy to embark at the head of a considerable corps, and to land upon the flats near the point, opposite Castle Island. The Americans, excited by the remembrance of the anniversary, and of the battle of Breed's Hill, and by the continual exhortations of their chiefs, expected them, not only without fear, but with alacrity; but the tide ebbed, and the wind blew with such violence, that the passage over became impossible. General Howe was compelled to defer the attack to early the following morning. A tempest arose during the night, and when the day dawned, the sea was still excessively agitated. A violent rain came to increase the obstacles; the English general kept himself quiet. But the Americans made profit of this delay; they erected a third redoubt, and completed the other works. Colonel Mifflin had prepared a great number of hogsheads full of stones and sand, in order to roll them upon the enemy when he should march up to the assault, to break his ranks, and throw him into confusion, that might smooth the way to his defeat.

Having diligently surveyed all these dispositions, the English persuaded themselves that the contemplated enterprise offered difficulties almost insurmountable. They reflected that a repulse, or even a victory so sanguinary as that of Breed's Hill, would expose to a jeopardy too serious the English interests in America. Even in case of success, it was to be considered that the garrison was not sufficiently numerous to be able, without hazard, to keep possession of the peninsula of Dorchester, having already to guard not only the city, but the peninsula of Charlestown. The battle was rather necessary, and victory desirable, to save the reputation of the royal arms, than to decide the total event of things upon these shores. The advantages, therefore, could not compensate the dangers. Besides, the port of Boston was far from being perfectly accommodated to the future operations of the army that was expected from England; and general Howe himself had, some length of time before, received instructions from lord Dartmouth, one of the Secretaries of State, to evacuate the city, and to establish himself at New York.

The want of a sufficient number of vessels had hitherto prevented him from executing this order. Upon all these considerations, the English generals determined to abandon Boston to the power of the provincials.

This retreat, however, presented great difficulties. An hundred and fifty transports, great and small, appeared scarcely adequate to the accommodation of ten thousand men, the number to which the crews and the garrison amounted, without comprehending such of the inhabitants, as, having shown themselves favorable to the royal cause, could not with safety remain. The passage was long and difficult; for with these emaciated and enfeebled troops it could not be attempted to operate any descent upon the coasts. It was even believed to be scarcely possible to effect a landing at New York, although the city was absolutely without defense on the part of the sea. The surest course appeared to be to gain the port of Halifax; but besides the want of provisions, which was excessive, the season was very unfavorable for this voyage, at all times dangerous.

The winds that prevailed then blew violently from the northeast, and might drive the fleet off to the West Indies, and the vessels were by no means stocked with provisions for such a voyage. Besides, the territory of Halifax was a sterile country, from which no resource could be expected, and no provision could have been previously made there, since the evacuation of Boston and retreat to Halifax were events not anticipated. Nor could the soldiers perceive without discouragement that the necessity of things impelled them towards the north, apprised as they were that the future operations of the English army were to take place in the provinces of the center, and even in those of the south. But their generals had no longer the liberty of choice. The Americans however being able by the fire of their artillery to interpose the greatest obstacles to the embarkation of the British troops, general Howe deliberated upon the means of obviating this inconvenience. Having assembled the selectmen of Boston, he declared to them, that the city being no longer of any use to the king, he was resolved to abandon it, provided that Washington would not oppose his departure. He pointed to the combustible materials he had caused to be prepared to set fire, in an instant, to the city, if the provincials should molest him in any shape. He invited them to reflect upon all the dangers which might result, for them and their habitations, from a battle fought within the walls; and he assured them that his personal intention was to withdraw peaceably, if the Americans were disposed, on their Dart, to act in the same manner. He exhorted them therefore to

repair to the presence of Washington, and to inform him of what they had now heard.

The selectmen waited upon the American general, and made him an affecting representation of the situation of the city. It appears, from what followed, that he consented to the conditions demanded; but the articles of the truce were not written. It has been pretended that one of them was that the besieged should leave their munitions of war; this, however, cannot be affirmed with assurance. The munitions were, indeed, left; but it is not known whether it was by convention, or from necessity. The Americans remained quiet spectators of the retreat of the English. But the city presented a melancholy spectacle; notwithstanding the orders of general Howe, all was havoc and confusion. Fifteen hundred loyalists, with their families, and their most valuable effects, hastened, with infinite dejection of mind, to abandon a residence which had been so dear to them, and where they had so long enjoyed felicity. The fathers carrying burthens, the mothers their children, ran weeping towards the ships; the last salutations, the farewell embraces of those who departed, and of those who remained, the sick, the wounded, the aged, the infants, would have moved with compassion the witnesses of their distress, if the care of their own safety had not absorbed the attention of all.

The carts and beasts of burthen were become the occasion of sharp disputes between the inhabitants who had retained them, and the soldiers who wished to employ them. The disorder was also increased by the animosity that prevailed between the soldiers of the garrison and those of the fleet; they reproached each other mutually, as the authors of their common misfortune. With one accord, however, they complained of the coldness and ingratitude of their country, which seemed to have abandoned, or rather to have forgotten them upon these distant shores, a prey to so much misery, and to so many dangers. For since the month of October, general Howe had not received, from England, any order or intelligence whatever, which testified that the government still existed, and had not lost sight of the army of Boston.

Meanwhile, a desperate band of soldiers and sailors took advantage of the confusion to force doors, and pillage the houses and shops. They destroyed what they could not carry away. The entire city was devoted to devastation, and it was feared every moment the flames would break out to consummate its destruction.

The fifteenth of March, general Howe issued a proclamation, forbidding every inhabitant to go out of his house before eleven o'clock in the morning, in order not to disturb the embarkation of the troops,