Bunker Hill

advanced the American lines to Plowed Hill near Charlestown Neck in an operation that had all of the discipline and rigor that had been missing from the Battle of Bunker Hill. For the most part, however, the summer and fall of 1775 settled into a militarily listless stalemate. The Continental forces would launch an annoying jab at the British that was inevitably answered by a cannonade. “At one time a horse would be knocked in the head, and at another time a man would be killed,” a loyalist wrote; “it seemed to be rather in jest than in earnest. At some times, a shell would play in the air like a sky rocket, rather in diversion, and there burst without damage; and now and then, another would fall in the town, and there burst to the terror or breaking of a few panes of glass. . . . Little else was done but keeping both armies out of the way of idleness, or rather the whole scene was an idle business.” According to a British officer stationed on Bunker Hill, “The regulars and the provincials squint at one another like wild cats across a gutter.”
    By September Washington’s frustrations had reached the point that he had decided he must launch an assault on Boston. He didn’t have much gunpowder, but his already meager supplies were dwindling every day. If he didn’t attack soon, he might lose forever the chance to engage the enemy. As was quickly becoming apparent, maintaining an army of this size was extraordinarily expensive. The Continental Congress was issuing paper currency, but who knew how much longer the people would be willing to pay for a war—especially if it did not yield significant results. And besides, by the new year, Washington might not have an army to command when the soldiers’ terms of enlistment came up in December.
    He also had to consider the British army, which continued to grow with the arrival of each new transport full of troops. Perhaps Gage had been waiting all this time, gathering steam before launching one last, furious assault. Washington did not have enough soldiers to cover almost ten miles of fortifications; those that he did have were still so poorly equipped that spears—spears!—had been provided in the event of another British sortie. If Gage managed to find one of the many weak points in the Continental lines, his regulars might send the American army reeling. Better to attack now, before the British had a chance to break out of Boston.
    But perhaps Washington was most powerfully motivated by the expectations that had surrounded his arrival in early July. He had inherited an army that had a fighting reputation, a reputation, he was convinced, it did not deserve. And yet so far he had done nothing that could compare to the achievements of Bunker Hill and Lexington and Concord. Ready or not, he must act.
    But he could not act alone. The Continental Congress had insisted that he must consult his council of war, made up of Generals Ward, Lee, Gates, Putnam, Thomas, Heath, Sullivan, and Greene. On September 8 he proposed “to make a successful attack upon the troops in Boston, by means of boats, cooperated by an attempt upon their lines at Roxbury.” They would use the small boats that had been assembled in Cambridge to launch an amphibious assault on Boston. Given Washington’s reservations about the fighting capabilities of his army and the lack of arms and ammunition, it was an extraordinarily imprudent proposal. These New Englanders were reliable enough when fighting from behind a wall; to expect them to assault the many entrenchments surrounding Boston was another matter altogether. Even if they did somehow manage to make it past the entrenchments, the assault would transform Boston’s crooked streets into a horrifying labyrinth of house-to-house fighting. By attacking now, Washington stood a good chance of destroying his own army and handing the British yet another undeserved victory. Three days later, the council of war, which met at Washington’s headquarters in Cambridge, unanimously decided that “it was not expedient to make the attempt at present, at least.”
    On October 18, in anticipation of the arrival of a committee of three delegates from the Continental Congress, which included Benjamin Franklin, Washington once again proposed that they attack. Once again the council voted unanimously against the proposal, but this time there were some qualifications. Nathanael Greene said it might work “if 10,000 men could be landed at Boston.” John