Read Online Bunker Hill by Nathaniel Philbrick - Free Book Online Page B

was only a generation old. His uncle, who had adopted him when he was a boy, had amassed much of his fortune selling arms and provisions to the British army during the French and Indian War. John Hancock’s inherited wealth had provided him with a beautiful house on Beacon Hill, an ornate carriage, fashionable clothes, and a nasty case of gout, but it had not won him the sense of entitlement that the landed aristocracy in England enjoyed. As anyone in the colonies could see, fortunes could be lost even more quickly than they could be made, and as a consequence, the wealthy in America tended to be (relative to their counterparts in Britain, at least) an insecure and touchy lot.
    Much has been said in both his and our own time to malign Hancock’s intelligence and temper, but not even Samuel Adams proved as adept at responding to the mood swings of the American people. After his uncle’s death, he purposely changed the direction of the family business to include a variety of house and shipbuilding projects that came to employ, his lawyer John Adams estimated, at least one thousand Boston families. In the 1770s, as his wealthy peers throughout New England became the objects of envy, suspicion, and open ridicule, Hancock became ever more popular. He served diligently both as a selectman and as a moderator at town meetings. Whereas the idealistic fervor of Samuel Adams could rub even patriots the wrong way, Hancock had the charismatic flair required to attract a loyal popular following, and it was little wonder that Hutchinson had once tried to bring him into the loyalist fold. To the end, however, Hancock remained his own man. He declined to serve on Samuel Adams’s Boston Committee of Correspondence, and as Thomas Gage was about to discover, Hancock had a talent for the deftly delivered stab in the back.
    Cannons were fired from Admiral Montagu’s flagship, HMS
Captain
, and from the batteries in the North End and on Fort Hill to the south. Gage had brought with him both his chariot and his coach, and it’s more than likely that at least one of these vehicles was used to transport him and his retinue up Long Wharf to King Street. Here he received a standing salute from the companies of militia, artillery, and grenadiers before reaching the Town House, whose red bricks had recently been painted gray to resemble stone. Once he’d stepped from his carriage to the entrance of the Town House, he climbed the stairs to the council chamber, where he presented his commissions from the king to the upper house of the General Court. After taking the required oaths, he appeared on the balcony overlooking King Street and read a proclamation directing all militia officers to maintain their commissions until receiving further orders, which prompted three volleys from the companies on the street below. A vast crowd had assembled on the square that had formerly been the scene of the Boston Massacre and the tarring and feathering of John Malcom, and on that afternoon in May they gave their new governor three rousing cheers.
    Once he’d had a chance to be introduced to a large number of Boston’s leading citizens, Gage was again escorted by Hancock and the cadets, this time to Faneuil Hall, where he enjoyed what was described as an “elegant dinner,” even if his toast to his predecessor Governor Hutchinson elicited a prolonged hiss. At some point, Gage presented Hancock with his personal flag, featuring the Gage family coat of arms.
    Inevitably, Hancock, the young and arrogant darling of the patriot movement, ran afoul of Thomas Gage. Later in the summer, Gage accused Hancock of not paying the proper respect as he passed between the cadets’ lines at the entrance to the governor’s residence at Province House. When Gage angrily called for Hancock’s dismissal, the cadets responded by returning Gage’s flag and refusing to serve under another commander. Hancock had lost his command, but Gage had been robbed of his personal guards.