Soldiers were going to and from the camps around Boston; people were leaving Boston, often without being able to take much with them; and all of them needed a place to stay the night or get a meal while they were traveling. John and Abigail Adams’ house was along the road in nearby Braintree, Massachusetts, and many people — total strangers — stopped there for a few minutes, or hours, or days. John was in Philadelphia as a member of the Continental Congress; Abigail was managing the household and taking care of her young children, but still she willingly did what she could for the people who came to her door. Their house was a “Scene of confusion”, she wrote:
Soldiers comeing in for lodging, for Breakfast, for Supper, for Drink &c. &c. Sometimes refugees from Boston tierd and fatigued, seek an assilum for a Day or Night, a week—you can hardly imagine how we live.
“Yet to the Houseless child of want
our doors are open still.
And tho our portions are but scant
We give them with good will.”
Abigail Adams certainly was not the only one who helped out the soldiers and refugees who needed it. Many people gave a meal, a drink of water, a place to spend the night, and so on. It pays to remember that women played just as important a role in the Revolution as men did, and that soldiers were not the only heroes.
A portrait of Abigail Adams, ca. 1766
Notes
The word “assilum” was a misspelling of “asylum”, meaning a place to stay.
The verse that Abigail Adams quoted in her letter was adapted from The Hermit, a poem by Oliver Goldsmith, in which a hermit invites a traveler to stay the night with him:
Here to the houseless child of want My door is open still; And though my portion is but scant, I give it with good will.
Source
“Abigail Adams to John Adams, 24 May 1775,” Founders Online, National Archives, accessed April 11, 2019, https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Adams/04-01-02-0136. [Original source: The Adams Papers, Adams Family Correspondence, vol. 1, December 1761 – May 1776, ed. Lyman H. Butterfield. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1963, pp. 204–206.]
The Americans threw occasional nervous glances toward Boston and the harbor as they feverishly dug into the earth at the top of the hill. They had to finish their fort before daybreak, or they would be sitting ducks to the nearby British forces. Hopefully the British wouldn’t notice them until then. It was the night of June 16, 1775, and the Americans were busy on Breed’s Hill on the Charlestown peninsula.
The British commander-in-chief, General Thomas Gage, had planned to put his own forces on the Charlestown hills first, to keep the rebels from getting close enough to actually fire their artillery at the British in Boston. The hills on the Charlestown and Dorchester peninsulas had natural strategic advantage; whichever side controlled them could hope to control the outcome of the siege.
But the Americans got wind of General Gage’s plans and beat him to the punch. On Friday night, June 16, about 1,000 American troops quietly marched onto the Charlestown peninsula and began digging in. For some reason, rather than following the original plan to fortify Bunker Hill, they chose to move farther down the peninsula to Breed’s Hill, which was closer to Boston. They worked as quickly as possible, hoping to finish their fortifications before the British noticed.
Although the British did in fact notice that something was happening near Charlestown, they apparently didn’t realize the extent of what was going on, and they did nothing about it during the night. When daylight came, the Americans had made a decent earthen fort on top of the hill. British warships in the harbor saw the fort and began firing at it, but did little damage; it was too strong, as well as being too high up for the ships’ guns to get good shots at it.
This 1783 illustration of the battle of Bunker Hill shows the British bombarding the American fortifications, and British troops crossing from Boston to attack Breed’s Hill. In the background, Charlestown is in flames.
The British generals debated the best way attack the rebel fortifications. In the early afternoon, Generals William Howe and Robert Pigot crossed the water to the Charlestown peninsula with about 2,000 redcoats. By this time, the Americans had been able to strengthen their fortifications considerably, but they were tired, hungry, thirsty, and badly in need of reinforcements. Some of the inexperienced American troops, frightened by the artillery barrage from the ships, had run away.
Finally the British began their attack. Twice they advanced to within a short distance of the American fortifications and were sent staggering back by volleys of American musket fire. By then the American commander, Colonel William Prescott, was in a desperate situation: the American troops were nearly out of ammunition. As the British, bolstered by 500 reinforcements under General Henry Clinton, began their third advance, Prescott ordered his men to hold their fire in order to conserve ammunition (legend has it that he said, “Don’t fire until you see the whites of their eyes!”).
The British were only about 20 yards away when Prescott finally ordered his men to fire their last major volley. He recalled the scene that followed in a letter to John Adams:
Our Amunition being nearly exausted [we] could keep up only a scattering Fire. The Enemy being numerous surrounded our little Fort began to mount our Lines and enter the Fort with their Bayonets. We was obliged to retreat through them while they kept up as hot a fire as it was possible for them to make. We having very few Bayonets could make no resistance.
The Americans made a fighting retreat off the peninsula, with musket balls and cannon shot flying all around them “like Hailstones.” They had suffered about 400 casualties: 100 killed, and 300 wounded or captured. Among the dead was the beloved revolutionary leader Dr. Joseph Warren. In addition, Charlestown had been destroyed; the British had set it on fire by artillery bombardment in order to drive out rebel snipers.
But the British had purchased their victory at an unacceptably high cost: over 1,000 dead and wounded. One American called them “victorious losers. A few more such victories, and they are undone.” Wrote General Gage, “The number of killed and wounded is greater than our forces can afford to lose.” The bloody battle of Bunker Hill (as it was misnamed at the time, and has been called ever since) showed the British that “the rebels are not the despicable rabble too many have supposed them to be.”
After the battle, things began to quiet down again. For a while, everyone was more nervous than usual, but eventually they settled back into the routine of camp life. The British fortified Bunker Hill and the Charlestown peninsula, but didn’t make any other moves; and, for several months, neither did the Americans.
Sources
“To John Adams from William Prescott, 25 August 1775,” Founders Online, National Archives, accessed April 11, 2019, https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Adams/06-03-02-0070. [Original source: The Adams Papers, Papers of John Adams, vol. 3, May 1775–January 1776, ed. Robert J. Taylor. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1979, pp. 124–126.]
Letter from Peter Brown to his mother, Cambridge, June 28, 1775. The Literary Diary of Ezra Stiles, ed. Franklin Bowditch Dexter (New York, 1901), 1:595-6.
“To John Adams from William Tudor, 26 June 1775,” Founders Online, National Archives, accessed April 11, 2019, https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Adams/06-03-02-0030. [Original source: The Adams Papers, Papers of John Adams, vol. 3, May 1775 – January 1776, ed. Robert J. Taylor. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1979, pp. 48–49.]
Letter from General Gage to Lord Dartmouth, Boston, June 25, 1775. American Archives, ed. Peter Force, 2:1097.
