eleven o'clock
`` Where are we going ? '' Lieutenant Edward Gould of the King 's Own put the question to Captain Lawrie . `` I suppose General Gage and the Lord , and perhaps Colonel Smith , know , but I do n't , '' the captain replied , as he stepped into a boat with his company . It was eleven o'clock when the last boat-load of troops reached Lechmere 's Point , -- not landing on solid ground , but amid the last year 's reeds and marshes . The tide was flowing into the creek and eddies , and the mud beneath the feet of the king 's troops was soft and slippery . `` May his satanic majesty take the man who ordered us into this bog , '' said a soldier whose feet suddenly went out from under him and sent him sprawling into the slimy oose . `` By holy Saint Patrick , is n't the water nice and warm ! ''