sisted and slain the king's troops, were wholly without authority for what they had done. No governing body of any description had employed them or recognized them. What were still more alarming deficiencies, they were without a general, and without adequate supply of food and ammunition. Congress now, by a unanimous vote, adopted the army, and elected George Washington commander-inchief of the patriot forces. They took measures to enlist soldiers, and to raise money for their support. Washington joined the army before Boston. He formally assumed command under a great elm in Cambridge, which is still standing (1881). The army consisted of about fourteen thousand men. They were almost without 1775. Washington at Cambridge. 263 ammunition. Their stock of powder would afford only nine rounds to each man. They could thus have made no use of their artillery. Their rude intrenchments stretched a distance of eight or nine miles. At any moment the English might burst upon them, piercing their weak lines, and rolling them back in hopeless rout. But the stubborn provincials were as yet scarcely soldiers enough to know their danger. Taking counsel only of their own courage, they strengthened their intrenchment, and tenaciously maintained their hold on Boston. The head-quarters of Washington at Cambridge were near the present site of Harvard College. It is known as the Craigie House, and is the home of the poet Longfellow. Washington looked at his foe. He saw a British army of ten thousand men, perfect in discipline and equipment. It was a noble engine, but, happily for the world, it was guided by incompetent hands. General Gage tamely endured siege without daring to strike a single blow at the audacious patriots. It was no easy winter in either army. The English suffered from small-pox. Their fleet failed to secure for them an adequate supply of food. They had to pull down houses to obtain wood for fuel, at the risk of being hanged if they were discovered. They were dispirited by long inaction. They knew that in England the feeling entertained about them was one of bitter disappointment. Gage was recalled by an angry Ministry, and quitted in disgrace that Boston where he had hoped for General Howe succeeded to his command such success. and to his policy of inactivity. Washington, on his side, was often in despair. His troops were mainly enlisted for three months only. Their love of country gave way under the hardships of a soldier's life. Washington was a strict disciplinarian. Patriotism proved a harder service than the men counted for. Fast as their time of service expired, many set their faces homeward. Washington plied them with patriotic appeals, and caused patriot songs to be sung about the camp. "Such dearth of public spirit," Washington writes, "and such want of virtue, such fertility in all the low arts, I never saw before." When January came he had a new army, much smaller than the old, and the same weary process of drilling began afresh. He knew that Howe was aware of his position. The inactivity of the English general astonished Washington. He could explain it no otherwise than by believing that Providence watched over the liberties of the American people. In February liberal supplies of arms and ammunition reached him. There came also ten regiments of militia. Washington was now strong enough to take a step. To the south of Boston lie the heights of Dorchester. If the Americans could seize and hold these heights, the English would be compelled to leave Boston. The night of the 4th of March was fixed for the enterprise. A heavy fire of artillery occupied the attention of the enemy. By the light of an unclouded moon a strong working-party took their way to Dorchester Heights. A long train of wagons accompanied them, laden with hard-pressed bales of hay. These were needed to form a breastwork, as a hard frost bound the earth, and digging alone could not be relied upon. The men worked with such spirit that by dawn the bales of hay had been fashioned into various redoubts and other defences of most formidable aspect. A thick fog lay along the heights, and the new fortress looked massive and imposing in the haze. "The rebels," said Howe, "have done more work in one night than my whole army would have done in a month." And now the English must fight or yield up Boston. The English chose to fight. They were in the act of em 1775. A Story of the Siege. 265 barking to get at the enemy when a furious east wind began to blow, scattering their transports and compelling the delay of the attack. All next day the storm continued to rage. The English, eager for battle, lay in unwilling idleness. The vigorous Americans never ceased to dig and build. On the third day the storm abated. But it was now General Howe's opinion that the American position was impregnable. It may be that he was wisely cautious. It may be that he was merely fearful. But he laid aside his thoughts of battle, and prepared to evacuate Boston. On the 17th the last English soldier was on board, and all New England was finally wrested from King George. A STORY OF THE SIEGE. A curious song, called "Yankee Doodle," was written by a British sergeant at Boston, in 1775, to ridicule the rude ways of certain people there, when the American army, under Washington, was encamped at Cambridge and Roxbury. Many of the volunteers from the country towns were ungainly and awkward in appearance, and showed a quaint inquisitiveness that provoked satire. The air of "Yankee Doodle," with quaint words about "Lucy Locket" who lost "her pocket," was known in Cromwell's time. It was at one time called " Chevy Chase," and it well fits this old Scottish ballad. The word Yankee was evidently borrowed from the provincial vocabulary of a Cambridge farmer, named Jonathan Hastings, who lived about the year 1713, and who was accustomed to speak of his "Yankee good horse," his "Yankee good cider." The Harvard students used to call him Yankee Jonathan. There is a story associated with this song which is at once amusing and pathetic. When Lord Percy marched out of Boston, for Lexington, he passed through Roxbury, his band playing "Yankee Doodle" in derision. It was a suggestive tune, as it was often employed as a Rogues' March when offenders were drummed out of camp. A Roxbury boy grew very merry as he heard the tune, while the soldiers were passing by. "What makes you so lively, my lad?" asked Lord Percy. "To think how you will dance by and by to 'Chevy Chase."" As Earl Percy in the ballad of "Chevy Chase" was slain, Lord Percy was made despondent by the unexpected prophecy of the boy. Percy was driven back from Lexington in disgrace, and "Yankee Doodle" was played by the victorious Americans when Burgoyne surrendered. Perhaps the reader may like to see the original version of "Yankee Doodle," with its provincial dialect: |