Evacuation Day

Invasion de la Ville de Québec en 1775
F.H. Wellington (PD)

Quebec, January 1776

Seamus was helping carry a wounded officer and kept looking back towards the city. It was evident that the enemy was not going to pursue Arnold's force into the teeth of the snowstorm.

"Hey!" hissed the man helping carry the wounded captain, a man Seamus didn't know.

"What is it?"

"We can put this lad down, he's dead."

The two men shuffled off the path they were following back to their bivouac. Seamus knelt down to look at the man he had been carrying. For the second time that night, Seamus looked into the glazed eyes of a corpse. The man was indeed dead.

"You two! Get a move on!" came a voice from the path.

Before Seamus could say a word, the man he was with spoke, "Cap'n's dead, Major. Probably bled out."

"Very well, Sotheby, get back to camp. It seems that General Arnold is determined to lay siege to the city."

"I thought the General was wounded? Was it minor?"

"No, wasn't minor, but the man is determined. The doctors have patched him up as well as they could, but for now the General is determined to stay in place."

The man then turned to Seamus and held his hand out, "Hiram Sotheby, from Norfolk, down in Virginia."

Seamus took the man's hand and introduced himself, "Seamus McTeague, Sergeant, from Acton in Massachusetts."

"Stay well, Sergeant. I've got to find my boys, you should find your own lot. I fear it's going to be a long winter."

Seamus nodded as the man continued down the path. He looked down at the form of the dead officer, the body already being covered by the snow. He wondered what the man's name had been.

"Should have asked," Seamus said to the storm. Then began his own trek back to camp.

The evacuation of Boston
William James Aylward (PD)

Boston, March 1776

Sergeant Andrews and Corporal Thomas Holloway were herding their men and others down to the docks. The orders had come down, both men were still in shock. General Howe had ordered the evacuation of Boston. The navy would endeavor to take away as many loyalists as they could. Those colonials remaining behind had been ordered to turn over to the Crown anything which might be of use to the rebels.

Andrews and Holloway had helped supervise that effort, much was stored in the many empty buildings around Boston, empty because their owners had fled to the besieging army outside of Boston.

"Damned waste of time, Sarge." Holloway groused as another wagon load was unceremoniously emptied onto the floor of a warehouse.

"I know, Tommy, I know. We should be burning all of this, at the very least dump it into the harbor. Leaving it here will just delay the rebels getting ahold of it."

"Critical of the General's plan are we, Sergeant?"

Andrews came to attention as his company commander walked into the vast, mostly empty, space.

"Well, Sir, I ..."

"It's alright, Sarn't. I happen to agree with you. But if we fire this lot, the rebels will think we're burning the town and may start shelling us. Then we'll probably all perish here."

The rebel army had mounted cannon on the Dorchester Heights to the south of the town. Those guns commanded the town and most of the harbor. The Royal Navy had attempted to shell those works, but to no avail. The rebel position was too close and too high to bring effective fire to bear.

Messages had been exchanged, General Howe had offered to evacuate the town, no damage would be done to civilian property as long as they were allowed to leave unmolested. The colonials had agreed.

Although a plan had been hatched to launch an attack up onto Dorchester Heights, which most of the men were willing to try, a nor'easter had blown up the very night the attack had been planned. General Howe had called the attack off entirely. Seems his memories of the slaughter at Breed's Hill were still fresh in his mind.

Now the regulars were taking to their boats again, this time to row out to the fleet and be taken away, no one knew where. Some speculated Halifax in Canada, others New York, as that city held far more loyalists than rebels.

At any rate, they were leaving Boston, perhaps never to return. Andrews had been depressed ever since the orders had come down. As they waited on the dock for their turn to board the boats, Holloway had spoken.

Whispering so that the men wouldn't hear him, Holloway whispered, "There's that lass you fancy, Allen. Just down the way."

Andrews looked, yes, it was Lizzie Arnold, looking for someone among the crowd on the pier.

"Miss Arnold!" Andrews called out.

She heard him and turned, a smile lighting her face as she rushed to him.

"Allen, I'm so glad I found you. We're leaving the city, Canada from what Mr. Hamilton says."

"Are you sailing with us?" Andrews asked, his hopes rising at the thought of her going to the same place she would go.

"Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton have papers from General Clinton, granting them passage to Canada."

"Just them?" Andrews asked playfully.

"No, silly, I'm going as well. My contract is over next month. They offered to let me stay here, but I don't know anyone but them and you and Thomas, of course."

"Sarn't Andrews! Get the men in the boats!" Captain Marston shouted from the edge of the pier.

"I must go, I will look for you in Canada." Andrews said as he turned to go, before he got far, Lizzie had wrapped her arms around him.

"And I for you."

The next day¹ the British army sailed away from Boston.

Never to return.

¹ And that day, 17 March 1776, is still celebrated as a holiday in Suffolk County, Massachusetts. Evacuation Day, we remember such things in New England.