"We will defend our resolutions and our liberties at the expense of all that is dear to us," Gloucester men had solemnly declared. The time had come to prove how sincere they were.
Thirty-one of the "most prominent and respectable citizens" were chosen as a Committee of Safety. The day of the minute-men was over : the day of the real army had come. More fire-arms were ordered. Housekeepers unpacked their precious stores of homespun blankets for the newly-enlisted soldiers who could not furnish their own. The town paid for these supplies and promised needy soldiers that their families should be provided for during their absence.
On the 24th of April, many of the Harbor residents moved their wives and children to West Parish and Ipswich for safety from the expected British attack. When we read that their flight was on the Sabbath, we can realize somewhat how very grave was Gloucester's anxiety and peril. What a forlorn picture those refugees must have made, as the straggling procession trailed along over the rough country roads!
During the first campaign of the war, our selectmen stated. that Gloucester had "upwards of 220 men in the field, besides numbers who joined the marine department, as more suitable to their former occupation." At that time the population was about 5,000 and there were 1053 polls.
One company, enlisted in four days by Capt. Nathaniel Warner, marched away to Cambridge in May. June 12th, Capt. John Rowe's company left town. This was made up at Sandy Bay and the Farms. It contained only six privates who were not fishermen or sailors. More than a third of the recruits were under twenty-one ; the youngest was William Low, a lad of fourteen; and the Captain's son, John Rowe, Jr., was only sixteen.
Both these companies fought bravely at Bunker Hill. Capt. Warner seemed to have a charmed life: a musket-barrel burst in his hands; the next gun he seized was struck by a bullet; another shot split his penknife-handle in his pocket; but he won through, unhurt. The story is told that Benjamin Webber, a farmer lad who fought under Warner, picking out a dashing British officer on horseback, took aim with an old "Queen's arm" and brought down Major Pitcairn, mortally wounded. The bold lad was shot in the arm just as he raised his gun to fire his last charge. Two of Warner's men were killed and three wounded; three of Rowe's were killed and two wounded.
It was the pluck and daring of such men as these that cheered George Washington, as he journeyed north to take command of the army. "Did the militia fight?" he asked anxiously, when he heard that the British had taken Bunker Hill. "They did," was the reply. "Then the liberties of our country are safe !" exclaimed Washington.
To Cape Ann people, the early days of August, 1775, were thrilling indeed. On the 5th, the British sloop-of-war, "Falcon," commanded by Capt. Lindsay,—or Linzee, (we shall call him by the latter name) came sailing into Ipswich Bay and almost into Squam Harbor. The grazing sheep in the pastures near Coffin's Beach looked very tempting to the Captain, so, a barge was sent ashore, with about fifty men, to carry off some fine, fresh mutton. But Major Peter Coffin was watching the "Falcon ;" and, with five or six men from the neighboring farms, hid behind the sandhills, peppering the British as they approached.
"It must be a large force of soldiers attacking us," thought the frightened men in the barge. "This is too dear a price to pay for mutton," and they rowed hastily back to the "Falcon."
"Go into Squam Harbor !" ordered Linzee, as they neared the sloop-of-war, "That deeply-laden schooner lying there must be a West Indianian with a rich cargo."
Into Squam Harbor they pulled, and boarded the schooner. The rich cargo was a load of sand!
Linzee had had enough ,of Cape Ann sand and he welcomed any chance to punish Gloucester. Three days later, he thought his chance had come. He had captured one real West Indiaman schooner and was chasing a second, when she fled into Gloucester Harbor and ran ashore on the flats. A crowd of indignant citizens gathered near the schooner at once. They had no intention of letting Linzee carry her off. As soon as bargemen from the "Falcon" tried to board the grounded schooner, our men on shore fired upon them; three were killed and the lieutenant in command was wounded in the thigh. Linzee was very angry. He sent in his prize schooner, with a cutter, all, manned with well-armed sailors, to capture the stranded vessel.
Meantime, to make sure work of his revenge, he began to cannonade the town from the "Falcon." Several broadsides were poured into the most thickly settled part of the Harbor. With an oath, the spiteful Captain ordered his gunners to aim at the First-Parish Church. He did not know its name, but its spire rose as a tempting mark. One shot did strike it, and the ball may be seen today, pre-served as a relic of the bombardment. To add to his activities, Linzee sent a boat-load of his men to burn the town. They landed at Fort Point; but, in a few minutes, they were all taken prisoners by Gloucester men.
While these things were going on, the party which had under-taken to defend the schooner on the flats had succeeded in capturing both of the West Indiamen, the cutter and the barges ! This part of the fight cost Gloucester two lives,—one man who was killed on the spot, and one who was fatally wounded. But the bombardment, which was meant to be so deadly, had butchered only one lone hog!
The captured boats were brought on shore and hauled up back of the very meeting-house which Linzee had tried so hard to destroy, perhaps on the very spot where our high school now stands. Two years later, the boats were sold for the benefit of the Poor of the town.
MARY BROOKS.